I spent a good part of today taking my first stab at painting a room.
Not my first stab ever - just my first stab since coming home.
All the rooms in the house with the exception of the den need painting and I'm starting with the living room.
After far too much debate LC and I decided on a color called "picnic basket" of all things.
It looks like a cross between a green and a brown so I guess picnic basket is a more-or-less, kind of, sort of, moderately adequate description of the color.
But I have to wonder who thinks up the names for these colors, what educational and professional background one needs to become a paint-color-namer, and how do I get that job?
For the past few days I have planned on walking the Perimeter Trail up near the University of the South tomorrow.
But I have now torn up the living room, the walls are painted but the white trim still needs to be done before I can put everything back together and make the room livable again.
And so the Perimeter Trail will have to wait until early next week.............
Yesterday was still a cool, windy and overcast day and as I ran on the trails, running my loop which still feels long but not as overwhelmingly long as it did only a week ago, I could feel myself finally falling into a familiar rhythm.
There were long stretches when running on the trails felt comfortable and natural. When the trail and I were comfortable friends with each other and when I knew with 100% certainty that I could still become some kind of decent runner again.
There were shorter stretches when running was uncomfortable and tedious and far too tiring.
When the trail was seemingly all uphill and never ending.
And when the internal conversation playing out in my head to the same beat as my foot steps tried to persuade me that I was too old for this kind of thing.
A couple of scenes taken on the trail................
After running I drove to a beach area directly across the road from the trails, climbed out of the truck and relished the quiet and in being alone.
Since leaving Juneau I have become more anti-social.
Enjoying short experiences with and around other people, but only short experiences.
I still find interactions stressful and unsettling, always needing time alone in the past but needing it more now.
On this day I walked on the empty beach, listened to the sound of silence in the trees, looked out over slightly choppy water and a sky that was valiantly but mostly unsuccessfully trying to clear.
Thinking about the whirlwind these past two years have been.
Thinking about living in three states over the course of one year.
Trying valiantly but mostly unsuccessfully to reconcile everything that happened during a time when I gave everything I had to a job.
Such a waste of time and energy.
I told LC today that this house feels like a safe and secure place and that is a very very good thing.
It's ours and because James and my Mountain Boy are in it, it is a good place.
A good place at the house, and a good place at the base standing watching over the grey and cold lake and the increasingly colorful trees..............
I do not know why everyone deserts the lakes and forests and beaches when the weather finally turns into Fall, but I am glad that they do.
I selfishly want the place to myself, and selfishly hate to share it.................
Need Some Time For Yourself
Time heals and soothes the soul and skin
Time speaks back when you talk to her.
No matter how close you may be to that person
Need some space for yourself to recharge and be refill
Time all alone, complete isolation
No intruder, No disturbances
To feel alone with time
To think alone with the freedom of time
You ought to know when, where and how?
Some privacy alone is worth more than gold
Whatsoever you are looking for
Time alone, you shall find the answer
During the Summer months this beach is packed.
Filled with screaming and laughing young children playing in the sand and in the water.
Watched over by lifeguards and watchful parents.
Hot dogs on grills, lawn chairs set up in the shade underneath the trees, picnic tables covered with red and white checkered plastic tablecloths that are held down in the corners by packages of buns and bottles of mustard and ketchup and still more plates of watermelon.
All gone for the season.
There is activity and noise and excitement throughout the Summer which is all so much fun.
And then there is the quiet of this time of year and the many months still to come.
I am pleased to be here at this time.............
I finally heard from my youngest boy the other day.
He is working at a ski resort 90 minutes north and west of Winnipeg Manitoba.
He works and now lives in the mountains.
He gets almost no cell phone reception but called me from on top of a mountain where he was able to get a signal.
He is cutting trees and wood chipping and building fences in anticipation of the upcoming season.
He, my boy with the free spirit, loves where he is and what he is doing.
He sounds happy with himself and his life, and although I still worry that he will stay out of this country too long and have difficulty getting back in, whenever I think of him and the way he sounded on the phone I can't help but smile...................