A Leg Up
I have this picture in my mind of a movement that happens without fanfare or gimmicky calls for attention. Where people simply do what needs to be done…
I have this picture in my mind of a movement that happens without fanfare or gimmicky calls for attention. Where people simply do what needs to be done…
I admit it, I’m a ranter. Ask anyone who knows me well. Conversations consist of a great deal of hand waving, facial contortions and vocal gymnastics…
I am reading The Gift of Years: Growing Older Gracefully by Joan Chittister, a book about “becoming” after retirement. Much of what I’ve read so far is about the freedom that comes from being outside the corporate world, where image matters so much. But I’m still in that world…
I’ve come to rely on my GPS to get me around. It’s a safer way to navigate than the paper maps I used to use — looking down at the map, up at the road, down at the map — all the while losing my place amongst the list of turns.
As much as I love to walk my dogs or ride my bike at the park and on trails, one thing that bothers me (okay, truth, it downright annoys me) is that some people don’t seem to appreciate the privilege of having a touch of nature amongst the housing and business developments.
The great thing about traveling is having the chance to be in an unfamiliar environment where you see and experience things you don’t normally see at home and interact with different people. So one would think that the good thing about coming home would be the familiarity and the comfort and convenience found there. Which is why I was surprised to find that when I came home, things actually looked different to me.