We’ve reached the end of this summer’s sojourn and are heading home again. Ah home! Where my sewing machine, my desk, my bed, and my close by, full-service bathroom are waiting for me. It will be SO good to use them again.
When I retired, I thought I would love traveling all over with my husband for weeks on end, seeing new things and new places. Things have turned out differently than I imagined. I find myself wanting to be at home instead of wandering. The grass may be greener on the other side, but it may turn out to be artificial turf. People tell me I’m living the dream. I say it depends on whose dream it is. I don’t think it’s mine.
I like traveling, but not for long stretches of time. And not continuously. The longing to return to my comfort zone gets stronger as the weeks of traveling get longer. I have only so much adventurous spirit inside me and after it’s used up, my fun meter is pegged.
I may have a small streak of hermit in me. I love alone-time and getting to do and think whatever I want to without interruptions or having to pause to tend to someone else. This feeling may have less to do with being an actual hermit and more to do with living in such close quarters with someone else for long periods of time. I need my space. When the other someone goes somewhere without me, it’s a relief to have the motorhome to myself.
I’ve also discovered I’m a whiner and complainer. Or maybe I’m just voicing my feelings about my current situation. I guess it all depends on your perspective: hearer or complainer. I hope you pardon my moanings about my situation. In all honesty, my present suffering is pretty superficial and I should do like my dad used to tell me when I didn’t like the way things were, suck it up and be tough.
I haven’t done as much writing as I’d hoped during this sojourn, but I still made progress. I read nine books in six weeks (not counting books of the Bible) which may be a new record for me.
I’ve had some really good times. I sat by numerous campfires and looked at countless stars. I enjoyed God’s creation, creatures great and small, and marveled at the beauty of them. Sweetest of all, I’ve seen friends and family and been on the receiving end of hugs and good wishes. I never get tired of that part of traveling.
Wholesome Stories about small-town people searching for what they lost