Back to KC. HOT. Hotter. Now a bit of a sprinkle. My hope and desire that it will turn into a nice rain is at best, a small chance. But then, everything in life is a small chance. Each turn is only a perhaps. The first glance at a true love is only that. A glance. Without those chances life would not exist. So, I hang onto this one. Trying to wrench more tears from the clouds than they possibly hold.
It has been almost painful - coming home. It always is. We are never ready to get in a rut. To do that which we know how to do. We are both bored so easily. The so called "challenge" of the new is glorious to us. A new street, a new store, a new view. The only comfort the old holds is our pack of pets. Bailey had a bit of a rough go while we were gone - I feared that she would be pissed off when we got home. I should have known that while our leaving made her sad and filled with separation anxiety, our return made her happy to be back together. She and the cats are as wonderful as I remembered them to be!
I picked up a few books on the road - what a surprise? Here is an excerpt "I can't believe that God, if He exists, would object to our mentioning His name now and then. I think people make much too much of Him. We live and we die, we have pleasure and we have pain, plenty of it, and perhaps God put us here, but I can't believe that He is so fascinated with us in our foolishness that He interferes constantly, as she thinks, stirs us about like a boy stirring an anthill with a stick. I have not yet told her my theory that in fact God is a small boy, a mischievous and possibly perverse small boy. Who else would go to the trouble of creating mosquitoes?" the Lost Diaries of Frans Halls by Michael Kernan
I would like to be doing this instead. But, now is not that day. My creative juices seem to have turned to sludge lately. Even the travel blog http://leagueof3.blogspot.com was so poorly written that I wonder where my head was when I wrote it. I do have a few pieces of rock and stone and bone that I brought back and hopefully they will mesmerize my soul enough to get me going again. My ideas seem fractured with tiny bits and pieces of a mosaic that I cannot imagine complete - yet!