"If we had to move, where would you want to go?"

My husband and I sometimes play this game. "A cheap place somewhere in the desert - but not for too long, it gets too hot!" I sometimes say. "Let's get a camper and explore Montana," is another idea. Also: "We could move to Berlin. But that got expensive too." My favorite: "A cabin at the ocean, the WILD ocean, cliffs, wind and the smell of salt and Abenteuer." 

But this morning, this perfect Sunday morning, I did not answer. I looked down at the pancakes the husband just made, at the fresh juice I squeezed a few minutes ago from back yard oranges and slices of avocado from our neighbors tree, the BEST avocado tree ever.

"Let's not move. At least not before the Olympic Games in 2018", I said. "This is PERFECT."

I did move that day. But only for a stroll around the neighborhood which only confirmed: I am not moving. Not now. Not any time soon. Fingers crossed.

Happy me:

Neighborhood stroll Pop Up Poetry:

Farmers' Market:

New shops coming:

Blumen am Wegesrand:

Random stuff:

Coming full circle: Oranges from the tree go fabulous with Campari.

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