Olivia smells like fresh baked bread and good soil freshly tilled.
I would come home from a hard day in the woods, our son waiting for me on the porch. I would put down my gear and carry him in as he told me about all the things he did and learned that day. Olivia would be waiting, wrinkles on her care worn face. She would know how much I hurt after working all day, but wouldn't think of take john from my arms. She would go into the kitchen pour me a mug of cold beer as I sat down. John would finish telling me of his day and run off to play, and Olivia and I would sit close, taking comfort in the presence of each other. As the sun sets over the mountains we would eat a simple supper mostly game and what we grew in the gardens and fields. Idly chatting about nothing in particular but what the world sees fit to show us. After we put John to bed we would go out on the porch and as Olivia smoked I would play my fiddle.
Wow, that made me feel peaceful and relaxed for the first time in a while. Work has me wound up and ground down, but even thinking about other worlds fills me with a taste of happiness.
I really wish I could show you how beautiful Oregon is Olivia. I wish I could make you happy and give you the same kind of peace thinking about you makes me feel.