I went for a 4 mile walk yesterday and it was glorious. Feeling the need to clear the cobwebs from my head, I felt wonderful as I bounced along listening to Celtic music. The spring in my step was undeniable and, in fact, I had to try really hard not to dance as I walked by all our Amish neighbors houses. The same buggy with the gray-bearded gentleman passed me on three occasions as he made various stops along our shared route. I wondered if I should pick up the pace. Maybe if I had been dancing, I could have maintained my lead.
The afore mentioned cobwebs were more like the tangled, sticky web that Frodo got tangled in as he made his way through Shelob's lair, but the brisk, chilly wind as I walked blew the knotted strands to nothing. Worked better than a sword. My thoughts were varied as I walked but this is what happens when those cobwebs dissipate:
~Two trucks passed by, and two drivers honked. I waved, but had no idea who I was waving to. We tell our kids not to talk to strangers, and yet I wave. Do as I say and not as I do. Maybe they were honking so I would quit texting as I walked, which I discovered is difficult to do and not look stupid. Let's just say that I am glad I was wearing boots. And that horse manure is better than any other kind of animal manure to step in.
~I am thankful that the little mean orange fluff dog stayed on his porch. I always wonder what I would actually do if the fluff ball would try to attack. How do you reasonably say, "But I had to kick him away" when it is a fluff ball for crying out loud. A mean fluff ball whose name is probably "Fang".
~I am thinking about jeans and I wonder if what I am wearing constitutes "mom jeans". The kind that makes your butt look flat, shapeless and mom-like. And why does this bother me? I am a mom. I have given birth five times. I think I have earned the right to wear the mom jeans. But yet, I don't want to. I want to wear the "I am forty-two and fabulous" jeans. And wear them with pride.
~Do the Amish wonder why I am walking? Do they wonder if I have a purpose, like going to the store or delivering a package? Why do I feel like they think I need a purpose? And why do I care exactly? And isn't just walking for enjoyment a purpose? I think it is, so why am I contemplating pulling a little red wagon behind me the next time I go?
~Drinking water is quite a good thing to do when walking, but I have discovered that doing so only results in the need to use the bathroom. NOW! And when I am walking, I don't have too many options, but there is this patch of woods that has seen more of me than most people. At least I hope no one has ever seen me in the woods. Ever. And if you have, please DO NOT tell me. Feign innocence.
And now I am back at home, my legs are doing that weird twitchy thing that happens after exercising, my ears are freezing, but I feel good.
No more cobwebs. (And why is it every time I go to write cobwebs, I spell cowbells?)
Love,
Dianne
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