Oh, the aches and pains in my body. I need a vacation. Lots and lots of bending, stretching, and over-use of my muscles this summer, not enough down-time, too little sleep and the general stress on all my systems of heavy metal chelation for the past six months . . . add all this together and I'm a wreck.
We made a trip to the Big City yesterday which always leaves me feeling beat-up on the day after. It's a minimum of 5 hours in the car/truck on one's butt getting there and back for starters. Then the stress of making the umpteen stops for an appointment or two and lots of in and out of the various stores in the city (let alone the mental duress and punishment of so many on-the-spot purchasing decisions!), never enough time to get to everything on the list, trying to avoid thinking of ALL THE MONEY one is spending, navigating in more traffic than we're used to . . . well, you get the idea. It's a rough life.
When we return home and unload from one of these infrequent but necessary metropolitan forays, I just have to wonder where we'll stash all the loot we brought back with us. I sure don't remember noticing any empty cupboards or shelves or drawers or even carrying out or using up so much stuff over the last weeks/months since we last went to the city. But, get put away it all does and it's no time at all before another list is started for our next supply trip down the road.
There are times when I wish we weren't so many miles away from shopping convenience . . . but more times when I'm so thankful that we are as far removed from "civilization" as we are. We definitely pay a price for living in the remote area we do but the benefits (at least to my mind) outweigh any disadvantages.
So, how come, since we're living out in the sticks, away from the hustle and bustle of the populated rat race, why isn't my life simpler, slower, less complicated, full of days leisurely spent in my lovely quilt studio, lying in the hammock with a good book, soaking up some sun while lazily paddling a canoe or sitting on the shore contemplating the birds overhead? Well, the aforementioned hammock has yet to be set up this season . . . and I'm too tired to come up with a plausible reason why all the other things aren't happening. But it's helped just to grump and groan and complain for a while. I know I don't really have anything to bellyache about. I'm better now. Thanks.