I’m awake. The cat has been sitting on my chest for several minutes now, grooming himself. You wouldn’t think of cat’s paws as anything but soft, but something hard is jabbing me in the ribs. Do cats have elbows? Sharp pointy elbows?
I shift pillows and comforter from the edge of the bed and summon my dog with a pat on the mattress. Sometimes he comes, sometimes he sits in the doorway of the bedroom and scratches himself, his back foot thumping a frantic beat on the hardwood floors.
When he deigns to join me, I lift my face so his sloppy greeting licks my chin and not my face. Then -usually – he turns his back on me and plops down, waiting for his back rub, or his “booty scritch” as I call it.
His luxurious coat is so soft, I bury my face in it and work my hand up the length of his spine and back down. He leans into the pressure, and turns his eskie smile on me. A pat on his bum, and a final smooch from him ends the ritual, and he hops to the floor.
Less nimble, I roll to the edge of the bed, sit up, place my feet on the cold floor,
and climb out of my comfort zone.
Bloganuary daily prompt: Write about the last time you left your comfort zone.
Bloganuary Prompt for January 2: What is a road trip you would like to take?
I’m not much of a traveler. I find plenty of adventure right in my own back yard. Literally. Now, my definition of adventure may not match yours. Like the epitome of boredom: watching grass grow, or watching paint dry… I happen to enjoy both of those pastimes.
So when it comes to dreaming of road trips, I’ll stick to the one I took last October and will retrace next month, Washington State to Colorado.
My trusty buddy Chules and I left home on a Wednesday, two days later than planned due to an utterly random case of vertigo (me, not Chules). We dropped down from Vancouver, WA into Oregon and headed east along the Columbia River.
glimpse of the Columbia River east of Hood River, Oregon
There would have been a lot of cool stuff to see along the way. The Columbia River Gorge is always scenic, The Bonneville Dam is – well – there. The historic town of Pendleton, OR is home to one of the Pendleton Woolen Mills, and offers tours of the mill as well as outlet shopping for their way cool blankets and clothing. If I were planning to sight see, I would probably continue east from Pendleton and fit in a stay at Joseph, OR to revisit the multiple bronze sculptures around town and to tour the bronze foundry.
But, alas, we were destination focused, so we turned southeastward from Pendleton, and made it to Nampa, Idaho before I had to stop for the night. (My vision only allows for daytime driving.)
worrisome skies in Utah
The next day, we traversed Idaho, briefly dropped into Utah and then headed east into Wyoming, where we spent our second night in Rawlins, WY.
Rawlins, Wyoming
If I were going to dally in Utah, I might have visited the Great Salt Lake, and headed east from there to the Dinosaur National Monument near Vernal, UT. That would have then led me through some national forests and over the Rocky Mountains before arriving at my daughter’s home in Centennial, Colorado.
Snowy mountains in Colorado that we passed through on our return trip
Instead, we took a more northern route across Wyoming to Cheyenne, WY and then down through Denver, CO to Centennial. The best thing about the trip was arriving in Centennial and getting to visit my six month old granddaughter.
And while I was there, I was able to watch grass grow while I weeded out part of their lawn. And I was able to watch lots and lots of paint dry as we repainted their living areas.
It’s January, and so begins the #Bloganuary Challenge from WordPress, where participants are given a daily prompt for blogging inspiration. Today’s prompt: What advice would you give to your teenage self? So here goes.
Dear Teenage Me:
Look at you! So young, I hardly recognize you – er, me. I know, you think it’s odd that an old fart like me is addressing you. You work so hard to stay invisible, and yet I see you. It’s not easy for me, either. I tend to avoid people, especially teenagers. You kids are very intimidating at that age. And, well, I try to stay invisible, too. Still.
You have a long row ahead of you (that’s a good thing so keep going), so here are some pointers to get you through a bit easier than I had it.
When you get your wisdom teeth pulled in your twenties, do NOT use tequila as a pain killer. The side effects are not worth it. You will wake up wishing you could get more teeth pulled just to take your mind off the hangover.
Nurture your artistic self. You don’t have to excel at art or music or writing or photography or stained glass or anything else in order to validate your interest and participation. If it feeds your soul, it’s worth doing.
Don’t dance like nobody’s watching. Dance like you don’t give a flying leap whether they’re watching or not. That will come in handy when your second grader pulls you out on the floor during the school music program to dance the macarena with her.
You’ll be a better parent than you think you can be. Listen to your kids. They’ll let you know how you’re doing. But maybe don’t let your children write their own absentee excuse notes for school. When you actually write one yourself, the school will think it’s fake because the signatures don’t match.
Don’t despair. When you think you’ve hit rock bottom, there’s only one way to go: up.
Well, that’s about the extent of my garnered wisdom. Check back in another twenty years, and I can advise you on how to get through your midlife crises. By then, however, you’ll realize that you don’t need other people’s voices in your head, you just need to trust your own.
What Rhymes with Stanza? 