From Written in Stone © 2006 A. Jones Mapping Skills When I get home from Atlanta I have to grocery shop. It’s been so long since I cooked I can’t remember what I eat. When I get home from Maryland I work out every day do the laundry cut my hair juice carrots light candles crack a bottle of red and do not leave the house. When I get home from Florida the season has changed and leaps, gift-wrapped, into my arms. I swear I’ll never leave the Fall behind again even knowing that, by and by, the promise will break like the ice in Spring. The road is tedious and hard under its shiny veneer. It gives us stories of amazing grace and keeps the applause in its place.