Puttering [ something old folks did back when I was a kid ] about in the back yard on a chilly spring day with the fire pit blazing and music playing while preparing my tomato plot for planting, I realize how lucky I am to be able to spend my time this way!
Paced slowly around a campfire trying to figure out which way the wind is blowing ? [ Hack, cough, tears ] ; )
I have always thought that I was pretty good about just being me. Often, when folks approach and remark on how much I have changed since they had seen me last , I feel a bit of shock. Then again, I kind of figure that they must have missed Act II, Scene 2 . (or they never came back after intermission ) I do hate being typecast anyway.
Been right on with the snappy comeback; 20 minutes later ! ? [Thanks Katherine ! ]
Opened your mouth to speak and found there was no room around your foot for the sound to escape ?
I f I cannot see it love is difficult to find
If I cannot hear it the music cannot be mine
If I cannot smell it the aroma cannot remind
If I cannot taste it no spices can define
If I cannot feel it there is simply nothing there.
While it’s true that life is a journey
And we should enjoy it cause we spend so much time on the train
It seems to me that the journey is easier to enjoy
when we have a destination in mind.
Even if we never reach it before the end of the line.