This sounds hopelessly shallow, but sometimes fashion is the best medicine for me. A cure for worried sleepless nights and difficult days.
It’s the first day of school today. And I’m feeling all the familiar September feelings. With a bit of nostalgia thrown in.
Hubby and I are back in the old ‘hood this week. Downeast. Staying with my mum for a few days. Fishing and reading and visiting. Drinking too much tea and talking, talking, talking. That was my entry for this post …
I’m feeling restless these days. Physically and mentally. Restless, anxious, unquiet. And I wonder if my new sandals can help with that.
According to Ernest Hemingway, “in order to write about life, first you must live it.” So writing about life means making time to just live.
I have never enjoyed lying in the sun tanning. I only burned. Plus these days tanning is risky. But, I still like the look of a bit of tan.
Hubby and I went camping recently. It was not our best trip. But it was an eye-opening trip, one that triggered changing perspectives for us.
I’m hoping that if all goes well in the next few weeks, we will see the beginning of the end of pandemic life as we have come to know it.
Turning sixty-five last week felt like crossing the Rubicon. And entering the country of old age. But maybe I’m overthinking again.
I’m reading about trash this week, my friends. What is trash and what is treasure in this big old wasteful world of ours.
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