My journey began months ago when I was so weary of my life, and what it had become that I decided to book a trip by myself, a long trip.  I ended up joining a bicycle touring group, a way to have an adventure but be a bit controlled and feel like I was slowing down and really able to see all that was around me, I could smell the fresh air, the ocean, the sounds that surrounded me were not of cars and radios but of nature.  The day I discovered the cottage it was gray and overcast, the road was overgrown and narrow I was tired and slowed down to get away from the group when I saw the sign “B&B, rooms available” and instead of continuing on my journey as I had been doing for 8 days now, I stopped and decided to take a room, I had my bags, I needed nothing else.  No more traveling, time to sit still for awhile.  At the time, I had no idea why I was stopping, but the desire to stop was so strong that I could not ignore it, as I walked my bike up the driveway I started to look around, it was then that I noticed the gardens, they were overgrown and needed attention, the house was OLD, wow, what was I thinking? When I knocked on the old door an old woman answered, a crone I think she would be called, she was stooped over, wrapped in a lace shawl the color of slate, and I knew I was in the right place, in the window, next to the door was a sign that said for sale, this was my calling, this was what brought me here to the door.  This is where I belonged.