I think it’s reasonably safe to say, on this, the 31st day of December of the global Annus Horribilis, that very little this year has gone according to plan. I was certainly not immune to the disruptions, but as we close in on the end of the year, I am proud to say that I managed to meet one goal: I read 50 books this year. You can view the summary of my year here on Goodreads.
That was the last time I checked in with y’all. I’m not sure how I managed to let a whole season pass without so much as a “hey, I’m still alive” post. But then, it’s not like I’ve never done that before…
Fall was very busy for me with freelance copywriting, which was generally a good thing. I did manage to blog a little more over at Story Junction, so maybe I used all of my blogging abilities there instead of here.
August has been mostly taken up by frantic final preparations for our big summer road trip and then the actual two-week road trip. We borrowed my in-laws’ pickup and camper and set out to have a few fun days in Idaho before dropping my daughter off in Montana for her freshman year of college. After the big move-in day and orientation, we took the two youngest and headed down to Yellowstone National Park for a quick couple of days of exploration and then headed home.
There’s a lot of this sort of thing in Montana. I kind of love it.
(Side note: If you are one of the folks who left a comment on a recent post and never saw it approved, let me just apologize for the languishing. I barely touched my computer for two weeks.)
I’ve mentioned this before. I actually think I’m okay with the number. I’m not sure I’m okay with all the myriad aches and pains that are suddenly showing up.
Milestone birthdays, though, tend to put one in a contemplative frame of mind. Couple the approaching milestone with my two oldest children moving away, and my head is bound to start down some paths that I’m going to need to process and share.
And so it is that I come to this blog–a topic that I’ve been noodling over for… maybe a couple of years, to be candid. I’ve been afraid to post about this–afraid of judgment and questions and disagreement.
I think I’m not going to fear that.
So if you’ll all forgive me, I’m just going to get kind of real and very open and maybe a little Jesus-y… And it’s quite likely that I will mightily offend some people. And I think I’m okay with that.
This was the first time any of us had tent camped in a year–basically since the same weekend last July. My two daughters and I went yurt camping in March, but yurt camping is pretty plush when you’re used to sleeping on the ground in a tent. So really, this was our first REAL Honest-to-Goodness Camping Trip in about a year.
There was a time when on at least one weekend every month (usually two weekends), one of the adults in this house was gone camping with a group of scouts.
It only took me about two months to take it out of the box.
Keep in mind–this is a gift I said I wanted at some point in 2018. And my husband remembered that and bought it for me. My friends who had one said it was great for getting food on the table fast on busy days. It seemed like a way to get rid of some of the extra cookware in the kitchen–I wouldn’t need my rice cooker and CrockPot anymore, and maybe I could even ditch the red Dutch oven that I love so much.
Or not too fast. I guess it depends on one’s perspective.
A few weeks ago, I was coming home from the grocery store after dark. I was waiting at a busy intersection and saw something kind of fall out from under a car crossing the intersection in front of me. The thing tumbled around, righted itself, shook its head, and got hit from another direction. Amazingly, it only got dragged a bit, tumbled from under the second car, and ran into the bushes. When I saw its long hairless tail, I realized it was a possum. Somehow that dang thing survived a crazy busy intersection and two cars driving over it–at least long enough to dash into the bushes.