In answer to your question....

I got an e-mail this morning, and as I answered it, I realized I should just post the answer here. This is my entry for the day.....

Dear Susan and Larry, You cannot even imagine how I miss you guys! It's so nice to know that you are settling into your new environment....Susan, I need to know...Is there a healing taking place/has taken place? You went through quite a scary procedure there....

Hi Darling Friend
Thanks so much for your concern. I am "walking and leaping and praising God" -- taking long walks with and without Kody, running up and down stairs, hopping in and out of the Hummercita. I feel great! When I arrived here I could barely fall out of the car, and getting up the five shallow steps to our front door was a major project.

I find the atmosphere very healing down here. There's a freedom to just be human. No role or reputation to uphold, no pressure to "let my light shine," "to spread the word," -- except what I get from some of the most well-intentioned dear loving people up north. That's OK. It honors what I've done in the past.

But I recently finished a book, Leaving Church: A Memoir of Faith, by Barbara Brown Taylor. She was an Episcopal minister for twenty years, and now teaches in a college. I kept saying "yes, yes, yes" to the way she expressed what moved her to new ways of worship, praise and practice. If you go into a bookstore and browse it, look particularly at pages 172 and 173.

I just want to be still with God and with Larry for a while. Right now we "do" church in a variety of ways. Service to others is always a constant. That's just in Larry's and my DNA. He was up the other morning taking the Oaxacan rug weaver, Raul and his daughter, to the little town down the highway, where they were set to sell their rugs and do a weaving demonstration. The clutch on Raul's truck had gone out, so Larry packed four Oaxacan Indians and all their rugs in the Infinity surf van and hauled them to the early morning market. Is it any wonder I love him madly?

The praise and worship part is mostly at first light from the roof. I never tire of looking out over the estuary through the palm leaves and towards the mountains and watching the light change the colors on everything. There are so many blues to the ocean. There are so many pinks on the clouds. And how does anyone ever dare to try and paint greens? There are just too many of them! Just when I think it can't get any better, a hummingbird will swoop in to kiss the geraniums, or a line of pelicans will cut across the sky, or an egret will flash skyward. It takes my breath away. Every ripple of my being sings praise.

I love everyone at that dear little church in San Juan Capistrano. Shoot, I just love everyone. Otherwise I wouldn't be maintaining contact through the blog. But I'm SO happy to just be away for this time, get clear about to whom I'm responsible and what my priorities are. I'm grateful for a little distance at this time, but look forward to having friends -- and that means you -- down in small doses. I will lavish them with fresh fruit and affection.

Tiny Tim said it best: "God bless us everyone!"