Snow Day Musings
My thoughts are drifting like the flakes falling from the sky.
On a snowy East Coast day here in beautiful Bucks County, PA, I am in pj’s and cozy turtle neck. A fuzzy blue blanket is covering my lap, and my mid-back length hair is cascading down my shoulders. It feels like a blanket I have wrapped around me as well. The last time it was that long, I was in college, back in the late 70s-early 80s.
The me that I was, was a wide-eyed indulger of adventure, uncertain what awaited me in the decades that followed. Now, old enough to be the grandmother of that version of myself, I gaze back from this vantage point and think that either she was naive or on to something that I would be well served to remember.
She was nearly fearless about taking physical risks, including an Outward Bound Course in 1981 that had me camping, cross country skiing and freezing my tush and other assorted body parts in New England. I was 22 at the time and will never be that young and crazy again.
These days, I find myself needing to be cautious about how I move. Some mornings, I wake up creaky and stiff. When I play with my two-year-old grandson, and we are situated on the floor, it takes a bit for me to stand up as he grabs my hand and directs me where he wants me to go. Usually…
