Archives for posts with tag: wandering woman

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Putting things in perspective becomes the agenda for today’s meeting with Steve. I’m not usually a paranoid person, but since facing the fact that I need a place to go I’ve felt a dense fog hovering as it obscures the unknowns in my life. With time to think, and with the help of an objective listener with whom to share my thoughts, that fog is beginning to clear so I can view my possibilities at a safer distance.

Click here to read more:  I Monsters on the bus

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I find each day unique and unplanned as I concentrate on finding new living quarters. I wonder what ever happened to the nitty-gritty routine of the past when I rushed out the door in the morning, tackled rush hour traffic, yearned for the workday to end, and spent the evening recuperating. Granted, such a habitual life lacked excitement and adventure, yet there was security in knowing what to expect and freedom in not trying to make frequent logical decisions. Now, even a specific plan for when or what to eat, I feel discombobulated.

Click here to read more:  2 Gone are the days of wine and roses

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I sometimes reflect on how I know I am doing the right thing. I then ask myself, how does this choice make you feel? I rely on both my stomach and my heart to direct me. If I feel an ache, a rumbling, or the sensation of a knot in the pit of my stomach, it’s telling me that I am not on the right track. If I feel light-hearted, energized and joyful, the choice is a good one. In other words, you know you are doing the right thing by the joy it will bring. That’s how the heart is guided.

Click here to read more:  3 JOY settles in my soul

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Now the real work begins as I plunge into preparing to move to the Ridge a mere three days from today. I continue sorting, shredding, storing and packing and am constantly confronted with making decisions.. I often find myself being whisked down memory lane and swept into the past as I come across items of sentimental value.

Click here to read more:  4 Pruning tree of life

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A left turn is necessary upon entering Lancaster’s historic public square; three rambling country roads come afterwards that gradually narrow, the last one having no center line. Traveling slows down considerably. I loosen up and take pleasure in the leisurely pace coupled with open vistas. In fact, on Kelly Ridge Road, drivers should be prepared to stop at any given moment for a number of probable causes: cows crossing; dogs gearing up to race with the car; lumps of hay on the road; or another vehicle approaching (both drivers will have to scoot over a bit to squeeze by each other, but that’s how people get to know their neighbors out here). I like the pace, the intimacy and the quietness of this part of the world.

Click here to read more:  Autumn_on_Ridge_1_cherries_apples_pears_2ndrev_2.24.13

Click here to see Chapter pictures: https://pag213.wordpress.com/pats-pics/

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Mornings are next to miraculous here on the Ridge. My body has become adjusted and responsive to dawn’s early light and invitation to stillness. Whereas I used to pull the sheet up over my eyes when sunlight filtered in—wanting to sleep just a little bit longer—my body memory now knows that daylight means joy.

Click here to read more: 2_beneath_sun_and_moon

Click here to see Chapter pictures: https://pag213.wordpress.com/pats-pics/

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One of the highlights of pulling onto Kelly Ridge is seeing the mule standing guard at the first red barn on the left. I once stopped, rolled down the window and called to him. I was pleasantly surprised to see him trot over to the fence. I cajoled with him from the car for a little bit—buttering him up with sweet talk, telling him how pretty he is—and he kept coming closer, giving me the eye. I imagine that others stop by to say hello, too, and maybe bring him an apple.

Click here to read more: 3_its_all_gone

Click here to see Chapter pictures: https://pag213.wordpress.com/pats-pics/