I’ve been wandering through the archives of my old blog, Collage of Life, revisiting stories written during our years overseas. One in particular caught my attention, written on a rainy afternoon in Ho Chi Minh City, when Mr. H and I were dreaming about where we might settle after our expat years.
There was a trip to Maine, a chance friendship through blogging, and a drive down a dirt road in New Hampshire to an old farmhouse and barn. That farmhouse was Tahilla Farm. I had no idea at the time that I was looking at our future home.
I’ve been thinking about how to bring some of these older stories into my writing today. Perhaps as chapters, connecting the life we imagined with the one that unfolded. So many stories tucked away, waiting to be revisited. I think it’s time to bring a few of them home.
