I apparently hit snooze twice this morning because by the time I was awake enough to realize the time, it was 5:20. I felt like I could sleep for another 3 to 4 hours without any problem but alas, that isn't an option for me at this point in my life. Sleeping through what I now see is a beautiful morning would have been a waste anyway, but the temptation was still there.
The weather this past weekend was absolutely amazing and a true taste of the hot summer days ahead. As much as I might complain about sweating and burning in the sun (even with SPF 45 sunblock on) I much prefer those "problems" over shoveling and driving in snow and freezing during the winter. Heat can be dealt with by turning on the air conditioner and/or fans, drinking tons of water, staying in the shade and wearing as little clothing as possible. After a full day out in the sun and light breezes, I feel wonderfully tired and I smell like fresh air and sunshine. I could have spent the nice weather weed whacking, pulling the grass out of my potential flower garden, trimming my front bushes or other outdoor chores, but instead I chose to take a break and a breather by traveling to the bigger hills of southern New York State. It was a great drive full of sights I forgot existed in this state, open roads with little traffic and minimal construction, and a destination that was both familiar and yet still new to me. I met new people, I walked new streets, I took in new sights and all of that to me is a coveted gift. It felt so good to talk, laugh, share my thoughts and experiences with others and listen to their's. As isolated as I am where I live, I miss that real human interaction that I believe we all need. As I never truly know when such interaction will happen again, and I strive to not take anything for granted, I made the most of every moment and tried to memorize it all. I always hope that I leave behind a good impression and enjoyable memories of me when I leave a person and a place so that every now and then the people I've met say "remember that girl..." as I cross their minds in one of life's endless stories.
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AuthorMy words are like my brush strokes, I'm never quite sure where they'll flow to and when they'll stop. Categories
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