But sometimes I do feel like I am writing in my diary, talking to all of you. I guess that's a part of blogging, isnt' it? Talking to everyone, and no one in particular. Hoping that someone is reading what you write, yet sometimes, hoping that no one is.
Ah, the dilemma.
Sometimes feeling so good about who you are, other times not liking yourself much at all.
Do you have those quandaries? It can't be just me.
In retrospect, I think the part I love most about vacation is that all the 'stuff' that is normally coming at me on a day to day basis, is not present. No input. And when there is no input, there is very little stress, reminding me of something I just saw.
I must share with you a video that I just watched, found it over at lifeinthe secondhalf.
Thanks, Nancy, for posting this.
It is riveting, and thought provoking. It was 56 minutes long, and I didn't want it to end.
If you get a chance, take a look, and tell me what you think.
I know I have to work on my stress level. Some days that is easier than on other days.
I do know that my walks with Roy are balm to my soul.
I was so out of shape with my walking, that it took a while to get up to speed, but now three miles feels like nothing, and with four, I am just breaking a sweat.
And there are times, like now this minute, when I crave the experience.........I can't wait to get out there. It doesn't even matter that I know all our routes by heart, and so does he. I savor the simplicity of it, putting one foot in front of the other, just like Roy. We are like a well oiled machine, as soon as the door closes behind us.
I worry about winter. I know how nasty it can be, the streets will be icy, the sidewalks unplowed, and the salt on the pavement is hard on a dog's feet. And I hate the cold. I wonder if I put on some dark glasses, and bought a cane, if I would get away with walking in the mall with him????
I had little booties for Ed, which he would NOT tolerate me putting on him. He actually growled at me.
Not sure about Roy......It's worth a try, I guess.
In my other life, I buy a house in Maine, an old country farm house with the barn connected.
I love that.
The only neighbor is the church next door, and the view from the front windows is one of the bay.
The barn is huge, and with a big window overlooking the water, it will be awesome space to weave in.
Sure it needs some paint, but in my other life, no paint is not a problem, in fact it is kind of sweet, and vintage.
The road isn't a busy one, so I won't mind it.
Looks like I might be stacking some wood, by the looks of those chimneys.
I'm sure the house is old and lovely.
With lots of character.
I'll be sure to have a rocking chair, in the sun.
When the tide is in, I will put my kayak in right across the road.
I won't ever burn, in fact, I'll be as brown as a berry. I won't need sunscreen.
When I want, I will drive down to Castine, for dinner at Stella's.
In my new life, I won't care much about mowing the lawn. Wild is good.
And if I don't feel like weaving, I can always go pick up shells and rocks, that I will save in old canning jars.
Ah, yes, everything will flow, in my other life.