A year has passed since I started writing. Time is behaving like a dancing water bead that can't roll off the elephant ear fast enough. If only I could watch in slow motion. But the world won't stop so my only choice is to enjoy the ride. Not to sound cliche but I am becoming more aware of how precious and fleeting it is. And by it I mean life, love, our time on the planet. I'm also aware of how fast things change. When I started this a year ago, we were fresh off our move from Texas with a brand new lease on life, cancer free (my partner) and forty (me). We left our temporary digs and started work on our new house. We've moved more times than I can count and bought and sold every step of the way, thanks in large part to our incredible luck with real estate (may it continue knock on wood) and unpacking meant, you guessed it, more change. Changing this, changing that, transforming this, everything is a project. We picked up another project, too, a little cottage, and a part time job to boot. All of which is ongoing and subject to change, of course. A friend recently said something that struck me and has become my mantra. When filling her in on what I was up to, I commented "so this is what I'm doing now. We'll see how it long it lasts." Her response was classic: "I don't really like for things to last." A woman after my beating heart. Neither do I. I'm a champion of change. I need it. I thrive on it. I embrace it. I love it.
There's an art to it. I'm perfecting my brushstroke. Nothing lasts forever. You can put that on my tombstone.
There's an art to it. I'm perfecting my brushstroke. Nothing lasts forever. You can put that on my tombstone.
A while back I found these at ReFunked Junk in The Depot at Gibson Mill. They both pretty much say it all. However, to the one on the left, I prefer to say I start a lot of stuff.
