When I went outside with Charlie boy this morning it was already hot as blazes. My plants were already drooping in the heat so I got the hose out and watered them.
Taking the trash down to the corner around 8 a.m. was like walking through a row of humid tents.
It will be a hot one and the next few days are supposed to be even hotter.
I woke up this morning remembering a dream I sometimes have. It is one where I have my whole life before me. I don’t yet know what I want to be when I grow up, which, in the dream, I have not yet done.
In the dream I am nervous about choosing a vocation, afraid once I get splat in the middle of it I won’t like it at all.
Then I wake up and time has caught up with me. I don’t have my whole life laying like a tapestry on the floor in front of me. Much of my life is now behind me.
But what makes me happy is the fact that I love what I do. Maybe I stumbled a lot along the way, turning this way and that, uncertain.
But blogging is like a hand in glove for me. I sit down with my cup of coffee after the morning chores with the pets have been carried out. Sometimes I have an inkling about what I want to write. Oftentimes I’ve no idea.
I just let my thoughts and my fingers join together in song and the melody begins to play. And that is what you read.
Photography being part of the mix is just an added benefit, for I so love to train the lens on an object and try to capture its essence. I want you to see what I see.
I decorate and redecorate my apartment and patio, and take you along with me for the ride.
And when I run out of ideas for that I often start in on my blog design. Which, of course, is my second home.
And which I often like to fiddle with just like I do the furniture or a vignette. Shape it to fit my mood.
You never know what you’re going to see or read when you come to visit me.
I hope that’s okay.
I don’t know myself until it’s written and the photos have been inserted on the page.
So maybe I went years, decades, without knowing exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up.
Early on the teachers saw how much I liked writing stories and, like training an orchid to grow this way or that, they worked with me and encouraged me.
It didn’t take a lot of encouragement. It was, actually, all I knew how to do.
With the rest of my education I stumbled and didn’t make very good grades.
I barely made it to the finish line and graduated high school with Kendra, six months old by then, sitting in the audience on my great-aunt’s lap, who’s long gone now.
Walking up to get my diploma was scary and I wanted the floor to open up and let me fall in.
I don’t like people looking at me. I suffer under attention. I would rather be the stalk a flower grows on than the flower itself, which preens in the sunlight.
That I made it through college is kind of a miracle, for my attention span wasn’t conducive to learning by listening to professors talk and theorize.
In my head I was always far away, mentally working on my tapestry and looking back at the path I had taken.
And sometimes wishing I’d taken another road altogether.
Wishing that I’d actually mapped out my life instead of bumbling and lurching my way through it.
And so here I am, all grown up with daughters in their forties. They have chosen their path and I chose mine. Sort of.
This blogging thing began as something fun to do and blossomed into a way to pay the bills, for which I’m extremely thankful.
All that nervousness about choosing a career was for naught. Thought it took me many years to find my way.
I’m sitting in my favorite chair with Charlie asleep by my legs, doing what I do every day at this time.
Writing down words I hope you’ll want to read. Having taken morning photos I hope you’ll want to see.
My tapestry has been added to again and again, a bit here and a bit there. It is not yet complete.
It spreads before me with all the decisions I’ve made and those I cannot change.
You can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube.
But, I realize as I sit here today, there’s not a whole lot I would want to change. Though I would not have said that a decade ago.
I am all of the years and decades and moments tied up into a bundle and it is who I am.