I got an email from someone who had an idea for a trip to a place I visited 18 years ago. The first thing that I did this morning, therefore, was open Ocean to the pages of that trip of mine. I had traveled with Ed, in December of 2006, so Ocean was not quite three years old and I'd been with Ed just a little over one year. I spent the rest of the morning thinking about all of it -- the journey, the blog, traveling with or without Ed.
(Chores, thinking...)
(Breakfast, asking Ed if he remembered any of the details. Not surprisingly, he did not. That's okay, neither did I.)
It shocked me how much, over the years, I have changed the narrative, the elements of a trip, the nature and strength of the safety net I build into my travels. It's understandable of course. Ed has stopped going places with me and whereas encountering obstacles and having mishaps may have been fun with him by my side, the perspective shifts when you're a woman going at it alone. Then, too, there was Covid and the idea that you could get sick somewhere else. And of course there's the age. I was just a touch over 50 then. I'm into my 70s now. There were also the mechanics of travel: blogging then was so hard because I rarely had access to even dial-up internet. Our ramblings had to accommodate the daily search for a place from which I could quickly write and post.
I wondered this morning if I should take back some of the elements of the past. Whether I should take more risks and favor new rather than repeat destinations. (To my credit, of my next 4 planned trips, 3 will have plenty of new stuff in them and the only one running on repeat and recycle will be one I'm doing for Snowdrop.) Or, maybe I should let time and age and inclination (and gender and Covid risks and all the rest) run their course. There's nothing wrong with doing things with greater gentility over time. It's just a bit of an eyeopener to reflect on the fact that even though I think I've stayed the same over all these years, really, I have changed not a small amount.
In the afternoon, Snowdrop comes here for the afternoon.
We read together. Really, that's all we do. Absolutely riveting book! When I pause to get a sip of tea, she sneak reads at the ending. I tell her to keep it to herself. We'll she if she can do that!
Evening brought with it a beautiful winter sky. Pink, orange -- the works. I admired it from the couch. Inside, where I stayed, with Ed, our bowls of chili, loving the quiet beauty of the moment.
