LC and I have stayed close to home recently.
Both of us needing to be alone.
Finally, after two and a half days of being home-bound LC, Jamie and I ventured out for a short drive.
The temperature gauge outside my kitchen window happily and surprisingly read 50 degrees, so we were both surprised at how cool it actually felt outside.
When the wind blows (which it does frequently in the winter) it feels much colder than it really is.
Grabbing an extra sweater I rushed out the door to catch up with my guy and my dog, who were already waiting for me in the truck.
The last time we walked on the back side of Buffalo Bill Dam was during the summer of 2011.
Actually LC and James walked and talked with fishermen along the shore while I kayaked in the warmth and sunshine.
A blog post I entered after that very wonderful, sunny, kayaking day:
The richness of life found in adventure.
Did I really write that? Did that phrase mean something to me in that moment, as I was reliving my paddling experience in a blog post? I guess it must have, but I don't remember it and can no longer relate to it.
I laughed the other day.
It was the first time I have laughed in 39 weeks and it was brief and felt foreign.
I was watching some gear-head car show on TV the other day.
Usually I don't find such shows interesting, but this show is about three 20-something fun loving young guys, who get paid to travel all over the country doing outrageous things that usually tear up their vehicles-of-the-week.
On this particular episode they took three street vehicles (a town car, a mustang, and one of those little smart cars that would fit in the bed of my truck) off roading in the back country of Utah.
On a particularly steep and rocky and rutted out incline, the town car navigated the climb with ease. The low profile mustang got dinged up a bit but also made the climb. The smart car made two tries up the hill before smashing the underside against large rocks and coming to an abrupt and permanent halt.
Two of the young guys looked down at the pitiful sight of a tiny and bright yellow car at a standstill half way up the hill, and wedged between boulders and loose dirt.
One young guy looked down at the car and exclaimed "It looks like it's crying".
And I laughed.
At three likable young guys who easily made fun of each other as they tried to clean up the messes they regularly created during their vehicle-tearing-up adventures............
So much for my bright ideas.
With the wind gusting at the house I should have clued into the fact that in the wide open space of the reservoir the wind would be very strong.
I finally clued in immediately after climbing out of the truck.
We had planned on walking the dirt walkway that extends a long way into the reservoir.
In the winter (when water levels are lower) the walkway extends even further, and I was curious to learn just how far we could get at this time of year.
We got only a quarter of a mile before stopping briefly at this structure and then reluctantly turning back.
The wind was so strong we could barely walk, and battling the wind got really old really fast.
A walk for another day...............
They say when you are missing someone that they are probably feeling the same, but I don't think it's possible for you to miss me as much as I'm missing you right now..............Edna St. Vincent Millay
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