In my old age, I seem to have developed a resistance to change. (I guess it's really true what they say about becoming like your spouse over the years.) Before leaving for Hearst and the trailer each summer, I think of many reasons to resist going. I whine and complain. I stare longingly at my Clematis, knowing it will flower in my absence. I think fondly of all the fun, home activities I'll miss: Knit group. Hiking the Bruce Trail. Swimming at the harbour here in town.
Once there, I'm fine. It's the transition I don't like. Now that I'm home, I suffer the same resistance in reverse. I know - there's no pleasing me. I think Fred has said that a time or two. But today, I'm melancholy about the summer being over - MY summer being over. It started when I downloaded a summer's worth of photos to the computer.
Take a look. From hair cuts to Root Beer floats to friends and knitting, it was a great summer.
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1 comment:
It's nice to look back! I'm not sure where all of "your" places are, but they sound lovely!
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