I’m on the move today, headed for Australia to meet my son, Sam, who has been battling complications from knee surgery for two months now.
Yesterday Alan and I were running around San José doing errands. In a taxi we had a chatty little conversation with the driver.
“So, where do you live?” he asked.
“In Puerto Viejo… Limón.”
“Paraíso,” he said.
“Well, paradise with drugs,” I replied with a smile.
“Ah, well,” he said, “no paradise is perfect.”
Or, as my dear father always says, "Have you ever thought what a wonderful world this would be... without people?"
(An old boyfriend once asked me if my father knew Mark Twain personally.)
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