Pressing Pause

We arrive in Huaraz intending to stay a day, just long enough for a visit to a bike shop. Three days later we’re still here. Four days, five. It’s not a place we want to stay, but we can’t go. We’re trapped by weary, dirty, worn out intestines, taking turns on the sofa. This isn’t the first time and we can’t see an end in sight. Visits to the doctor produce the same results: a prescription for antibiotics and a prescription for probiotics. This is a short term solution with long term consequences. Good health is the most important thing. Without it, nothing else is possible. 

We look at the map and we look at our options. We talk. And then talk some more.  All this time we have been chasing summer, forgetting that we really enjoy all the seasons, missing fall colors, winter snow and seasonal eating. 

My mother sends an email. Her tomatoes are just starting to come in. Every year she has at least 30 plants. She’s putting by broccoli, green beans and cauliflower. The allure of fall in New England is strong. Wanting to fill our bodies with fresh food and clean water, we decide to go help. 


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