My Uncle Norman and I met with a great deal of regularity as I prepared to leave home for this trip. I shared with him that one of my fears was that I would somehow miss what I was supposed to accomplish; that my success depended on decisions I felt ill-prepared to make. My uncle comes from teaching stock, and at one time I was his apprentice. He will instruct when given the chance and has every love for me. After hearing my fear he leaned forward and said “You are about to sit down at a table where on one hand you will have a great steak dinner. On the other hand there will be a great spread of lobster. You can’t eat both, but either way you are going to leave the table full.”
I am not a picky eater as a rule. Although fast food is off my to-eat list, in someone’s home or at a restaurant I generally am satisfied with whatever is provided. On more than one occasion I have left it to the waiter to decide what my meal will consist of, I ask them what they like and that is what I order. Yesterday I tried this same tact with the man behind the desk at my hotel. “Is there any other place up the coast you recommend?” I asked.
“You can take the bus to Split,” the man replied. “There are boats to take to the islands and its very nice there.”
“Does the bus go from here to Split?” I asked.
“There is a bus every hour or so.” The man told me. So I walked to the bus station and bought a ticket for Split. I had no idea how beautiful wide the serenity of this place was holding for me.
albaniacalling 
I was at the Ram today and thought of you. You almost always asked the waitresses their what they liked to eat and would order that. I think it’s awesome that that is how you are choosing to travel!
I miss you. Thank you for thinking of me. We’ll have to go to the Ram after I get home. Seven months without a hug or a hamburger is a long time.