Rush

It's amazing the inventions you think of when you're stuck in traffic, and needing to be somewhere.

 I needed wings, but the dress is pretty magnificent...

As so often happens, a series of events begins much earlier in the day to throw off one's timing; for me it was waking at 3am.

 

Century Oak Scimitar, aka Sam, with his mistress, The Commander.

The day before had been horrible; we received news that our family horse, Sam, had to be put down from colic.  He had been with a family in Colorado while the Commander was in college, enjoying five children who lavished him with the attention my daughter no longer had the time to give.   She had selflessly allowed him to go, knowing the better life lay on trails in Colorado than standing in a stall in Mesa while she earned her degree.

Now he was gone.

Days shy of his 16th birthday, the horse she had loved for 12 years had a strangulation so bad the vet could only put him down.  While she bravely blamed no one, accepting his fate was a devastating blow to a young woman who carefully planned as many details of life as she could.  Her future surely had included her own children riding on Sam, who would certainly live to a ripe old age.

 

Their first show; they took a third place ribbon.

When she had first started riding, it was on the advice that "she needed something to control."  Strong willed did not adequately describe my child....I often reminded her that she would grow up to be president or a dictator.  "Presidents get elected," I'd remind her.  "Dictators get shot." 

Riding was offered as a solution, and horse camp grew to horse lessons to horse leasing to horse ownership....Did you know horses have chiropractors?  Yeah.  Benjamin Franklin called horses "the only hobby that eats."

So this very strong willed girl started to ride.  One day, when she was about 12, we had another argument and in exasperation I told her "I'm as angry with you as you were at Sam when he almost threw you at the last show."  I've never, ever forgotten the look as her face visibly changed.  "I'm so sorry, Mama," she said. "I didn't know I made you that mad."  From that day on, she tried.  She tried to think before acting, before dictating how life should be.  Sam helped her understand what she could control, and how to signal it...and that it was her fault if she communicated it wrong.  Sam helped parent our Abbie as much as her dad or I.

So waking at 3am after such a day of mourning wasn't unexpected, as usual I immediately began working on whatever project I had been on the day before.  I planned an early hike of Piestewa, and waited for the dawn.

 

So digging the southwest emoji I discovered🏜❤️

At 5am I decided to finish my prior day's blog...and wrapped up in writing the time flew by.  At 6am I closed my eyes for just a minute....and woke up three and a half hours later.

I was horrified.  An entire morning, wasted.  No chance for a hike now; I had a business meeting coming up soon.  Hastily I got dressed, thanking God it was with my partners I was meeting and shorts were fine.  Checking in with my daughter I was relieved she was feeling better, despite a lack of sleep.  We are both moving out of her apartment this weekend, and there's plenty of work to be done.  I left at noon, while simultaneously texting the Buckeye about my missed hike.  When he suggested I join him at 5pm I did I quick inventory of my car:  I had my ill-fitting but still doable minimus with me, I was in shorts so I could hike in what I was wearing, and I knew I needed to pick up water-so cool-no need to go back to the apartment.  

Sigh.

I could say I was compromised, but that's a cop out.  True, I wasn't thinking.  You see, it was also the 21st anniversary of the Knight's death.

Newly pregnant with The Commander...lol.  She looks just like him, but acts like his father.

Last year, the 20th anniversary hit me like a ton of bricks.  Whilst married to the King I had tried to bury my emotions every 26th of April, my first year divorced (and being the 20th year) I was overcome with a tidal wave of grief.  The Knight I adored would never have divorced me, or left me...but had, via death.  This year I was cautiously looking for such waves, bracing myself for whatever life might throw.  A hike would have given me a chance to reflect, I had missed that window by getting up at 3am.

The meeting and lunch went well, my business partner Kyle and I decided to walk around downtown Gilbert to brainstorm ideas for Ride there.  He'd not been in Dierks Bentley's Whiskey Row; he suggested we check it out and get a drink to toast my Knight.

 We both thought this looked waaaay too much like "Ride." #LYBP❤️

I ordered a Dierks Dram, basically a bourbon manhattan.

 

It was delicious.

Rarely have I had a drink so perfectly crafted as that one; the delicate balance of flavors played beautifully off each other.  I took the picture at 2:57pm, and sent it to the Buckeye.  His reply?  "Enjoy."

And I paused.

And thought...surely if I drink this now, and wait to leave at 4pm, an hour is plenty of time to get to Dreamy Draw?

It did taste amazing....

As traffic inched forward on the 51 at 4:57pm, I ruefully regretted my timing.  What was normally a 35 minute trip was now encroaching on an hour as I had hit three traffic entanglements.  I pulled in ten minutes late, and quickly changed into my shoes, casting aside the socks stuffed inside as I found they made my feet slide inside (these were actually men's minimus, that I bought when they temporarily discontinued my favorite women's style.  They had never fit right, and I'd only worn them a handful of times.) I had forgotten in my rush to buy water, and sheepishly asked the Buckeye if I could share his Camelback.

Yeah.  I write a fitness blog, and hike several times a week....

With no need to carry water, I stuffed my keys in my front pocket and my phone in my back pocket and left my always present backpack in the car.

Which meant I left my gun, my first aid kit, my cliff bars, my emergency kit, my energy mixes and, most importantly, my inhaler in the car.

Rush.

I mean, I knew I had water, right??

It had been over a month since I'd last attempted running on the Dreamy Draw trails, it was so good to be back.  Butting up to the back of Piestewa and part of the Phoenix Mountain Preserve, I was delighted to be exploring trails new to me.  The first third was relatively flat, and I joyfully threw in a few running jumps on familiar parts.  Turning east we headed between the peaks, the Buckeye pointing out my beloved summit trail, 300, and helpfully showing me where 302 converged as I hoped to hit it soon.  It was standing in a gully wash as he described a prior wipe out that I realized I had forgotten my inhaler...and mild panic set in as I climbed out of the wash and felt the Air Monster stir.  Dang it.  We had a hell of a lot more climbing to do.

So.  Let's regroup.  Because I had a drink, I had to wait to leave until 4.  Which meant I risked getting caught in traffic, which I did.  Which meant I forgot to buy water, which meant I had to depend on someone else providing it....in their Camelback, which means I'm not carrying ANY on my person, so I then decide my trusty-always equipped pack should stay in the car.

There are over a dozen empty water bottles in my car...and it never occurred to me to fill one of those. Well, until that moment, a mile out, about to hike up, knowing I have no inhaler, no pre-exercise puff off it and not even my own water in hand to soothe my lungs (before the inhaler, I gulped water instead.)

Did I mention this was a date?

😂😂😂

Let's recap:  I was late, I had the wrong equipment, left other equipment behind and wasn't prepared (water) and now I knew I had made a potentially serious health  decision as well.  Thank God it wasn't the first date...nope, in that I just pulled a flexor muscle and couldn't walk.  Truth:)

 

I keep promising him a date in a sundress, and that hasn't happened yet, either...

Thankfully, I know how to hike like a granny.

The few climbs we had, I slowed to my granny pace.  It's hard to hike like a granny when you want to keep up, knowing you have the strength and stamina but just not the ability to breathe.  It's really hard to hike like a granny when you're wanting a drink of water but you were stupid and didn't bring your own, and the water you're sharing is at the top of a climb that you must do slowly.  It's even harder when you know you look pretty dumb for being unprepared when you freaking write about being prepared and even harder still when you're anxious to impress someone.

So I decided NOT having an asthma attack would be the MOST impressive accomplishment I could pull off, put on a smile, and slowed the heck down.

If only I had done that earlier...I might actually have been prepared.  

"Slow like a granny.  Tiny steps.  Slow steps."

I whisper them to myself, hearing the crunch of lose rock under my feet.  I feel a sharp twinge from my right ankle, and sigh deeply.  There's a blister forming. I had forgotten that's why I had socks stuffed in this pair-they don't fit well being men's and I always get a blister.  Like hell I was going to admit to that.

"You know, it's never one thing that is wrong that creates accidents," the Buckeye teased as I got to the top, noting my ill equipped self and the fact I forgot water.  I countered that I didn't "forget" water, that I would not have set off without the assurance I could share his.  It was then I admitted to forgetting the inhaler; while he knows I hike like a granny I figured he might need to be aware of the other should I run into trouble as I so often had on these trails.  Of course I made light of it...it wasn't going to be a problem unless I failed to be careful.

Unless I failed to slow down.

It was a humbling lesson; I had to swallow much pride.  The blister added insult to my injury; while the hike itself was breathtaking, and the bantering conversation easy, I was cognizant of how truly wrong it could have gone.  It also showed me how much trust I already had in my hiking partner-he alone carried the essentials I usually carried.  I did successfully make it through without an asthma attack; all the weeks of training myself to "hike like a granny" actually paying off.  Ever one to be honest (even when I am at fault) I admitted to the blister in the parking lot as I changed back into my sandals.

Slowing down.  Dragging out something with a purpose.  Yes, it can be done faster.  

But does it have to be?

My daughter's greatest regret with the death of her beloved horse was no more time to look forward to.  In retrospect, being widowed at 24, I too have placed a premium on time.  Rushing time.

Because this moment may not come again if they're gone.

I rush decisions, I rush business, I rush through work, I rush through play because it all may end too soon.  I have to get it in now before they disappear forever...just like my Knight did, those 21 years ago.  I see for the first time today how I push to rush in everything out of fear of losing...a habit of the widowed heart.

 

Newly widowed, having escaped to my Arizona.

I used to think I lacked patience; that's not true.  What I lacked was wisdom to understand timing, wisdom to focus on the here and now, wisdom to make better decisions instead of snap decisions.  I can be patient far past the cows coming home...I have a 17 year marriage to prove it...but I greatly lacked wisdom when it came to decisions and rushing.  Always rushing.  Always trying to fit more in....to make one more memory...because they might be gone soon.

My heart breaks for the young widow I was, who developed such a habit out of the fear of loss....only to have multiple losses because of it.

I lose the very air I breathe if I rush.

I've also lost so many relationships in all areas of my life in the past because I rush.

Last night, Kyle and I celebrated one year of friendship and being business partners by taking in the Black Moods at Wasted Grain.  I hadn't been there since last fall, and walking through the courtyard I heard the music coming from the dance club above.  I smiled at the memory of being there with the Grand Boobah, and of dancing with him that night-so obviously attracted to each other, but before that first electric kiss.  I remember thinking at the moment what a wonderful feeling it was, to be so attracted and yet not yet having touched...and wanting to prolong it.  

Not that I did😜🤔😎

But what if I had?

My rushing to the hike could have ended badly-the Buckeye was right-I had committed several mistakes that together could have spelled disaster.  In the end, all was well, and he has years worth of fodder to tease me with should he chose.  Had I showed up prepared? I would have made a better impression, for sure.  As is,  I learned a lesson so valuable, I wouldn't want to change it.

Rush.  It's what's been wrong for 21 years.  

Pride and Joy

There is a joy that bubbles up within you until it overflows.

 I had that:)

Just a few days ago I sat right there and called the hike. I was nauseous and weak-I thought it was solely not eating.  Now, I can pretty safely say it was the heat in combination with my forgetfulness.

My prior two hikes I did at 95°...and one I bailed on, the other took much longer to complete.  Neither time I felt hot, and both times I had plenty of water,  but both were overwhelming hard.  

The King told me it's because my body can do two out of three or four things well.  In both cases, I was asking a bit too much. 

Or so he says.

Apparently, the first time I asked it to a) exert without food b) deal with heat c) exert in general.  So nausea resulted, and I had to call it.  Now having completed Cholla, it was 100% the right call.  My Piestewa hike the next night?

 Grimly heading down knowing I was going to run out of light.

Well, it was 95° when I started, but I was in the shade most of the time, had eaten and was well hydrated.  Apparently, this time asking my body to a) digest food while exerting b) deal with the heat and c) exert slowed down everything- and I ended up having two significant asthma attacks.

 It was still a worthwhile hike:)

As I'm learning that heat, while not really seeming to be a factor (I don't feel like it's hot at 95°), it obviously is, so after a day's rest I decided to reattempt Cholla.  I started at 7:30am, at a chilly 66°.

 This guy started the hike with me.

Immediately I noticed a difference-this hike was not hard.  I had plenty of energy (despite not eating breakfast-hahahahahaha) and while I had to go granny slow, breathing was not an issue.  I had plenty of water, but didn't feel the need to suck it down. As it grew warmer (rather quickly, I might add) I had no issues-just pure joy.

Rarely have I been so happy.  The night before I had an unexpected message...a blast from the past, if you will.  For the first time, I had resolution in a relationship...and had shut a door and walked away.  Closure, they call it.  More like empowerment!  Not only was my heart happy, but I was quickly falling in love with Cholla.

 

 

I had to go straight up the huge rock formation😜😎

The last 1/4 mile of pure scramble to the top thrilled me-and as I looked up to the summit I could clearly see the area that BASE jumpers used.  The Buckeye used to BASE jump Camelback, and had told me several tales that I cringed at...but looking at it from the saddle?

Inspiring.

I wanted to jump off Camelback, too.

Probably not the best idea, eh? This is likely the last appearance of the Colonel's Hat on my head...it's too hot to hike in black!  That and baseball hats really don't suit me.

Nor do colonels, for that matter.

Anywise!!  The top of Camelback--and I'm happy.  Overjoyed.  Ready to conquer the world...

 Summit!

My trip down I chatted on my Bluetooth with My Tudor, a long time friend dating back to high school and college.  It was fun sharing the adventure; he's back in Michigan and has a debilitating back injury that makes hikes like this but a dream.  Funny how the hike flew by despite a difficult descent in places...

 Me.  Supremely happy.

Piestewa is my pride.  Cholla is my joy.

I love hiking.  It's the only thing keeping me sane right now, as I wait for the house to sell.  This time it has to-there's no other out unless the King suddenly comes up with enough to buy me out.  The waiting game is horrifying...I've done long waits for real estate to sell before...and the stress of it not selling and my immediate lodging needs has weighed heavily on me the last few days.  Originally, I planned to travel; job interviews now precluded that.  As I wait for a new life to begin in the valley, I am challenged to do what I can, while being patient with what I cannot do.

It's tempting to put in a picture right here of people I am being remarkably patient with because I believe them when they say it is worth it.....!!!😜🤔😎

 Instead, I give you this.  Piestewa Peak.

Early on Monday, I fought traffic to hit the peak before 7am.  I decided to use my poles; my arms are flabby and I wondered if it would help my lungs.

Oh sugar.

I had my best time up-56 minutes-a full 15 minutes faster than my best time.  One asthma attack right near the top (and totally my fault as I raced a bit wanting to have my best time.  See?  Even I fall prey to that nonsense.)  Pride.  I had no improper pride, sitting on that peak.  Rather, the satisfaction that despite much I had no control over, I had this.

 Wretched sports bra, happy hiker.

Driving down to Phoenix the night before, I was a mess.  The stresses are building, despite my reminders that financially I'm really stable.  While Ride pays the bills, it won't qualify me for a mortgage (there's a pesky rule about showing an income for two years off a business before it counts.). So I need a W-2 position, and the search is wearying.  Add in the house, the children, Ride, business partners and especially being homeless...yeah.  That last bit is a bitter pill.  I own a home I pay for monthly, but I need to be here.  I don't want to rent long term, due to the house being for sale...but it's hard.  Very hard.  I want to put down roots in my new city, develop new friendships and new routines.  Without having a home base, it's nearly impossible.

Except for here:

 

View of Piestewa from Camelback Summit.

And here:

 View northeast of Piestewa.

On my pride & joy I get to release stress, connect with God and feel better about life.  This is a short period of time.  The house will sell.  I will have my own place here.  I'll have my books back.  I will be able to establish roots.

While rootless, it's challenging.  We need routine, and without a home base, I've been floundering.  The endless wait for a sale over 18 months has come to a head....you see, I may be divorced, but until that house sells I'm still joined to the King.  I've been very patient, and very kind.  It's really, really hard right now to keep being those things, when you feel tossed and thrown by circumstances....and then I hike, and it's all ok.

These are roots I'm putting down.

I'm learning these trails; the rocks, the turns, the steps. The time of day, the heat and the light.  The tools to make it better, and my ability to handle it.  

 I have a hard time handling left behind orange peels, however.

My mountains.  My hikes.  My adventures.

 

I have a new adventure planned for next week.  I'm told it will change my life😎

It's gonna be ok.

Hiking Like a Granny

Oh, it's hard to hike like a Granny.

 It's not hard to sit down and look goofy.  That's kinda easy.

Meandering.  My new fitness theory, that may prove pivotal as I've had early successes with it.

Until the last two days, that is.

 My first, and very successful meander, 12 days ago.

On the first meander, I hit Piestewa early.  6:41am according to Strava, that evil addicting app with only the 20% in mind.  My theory was I could go slow..."slow like a granny"...and manage my asthma.  Indeed, I achieved the summit without using the inhaler, and found the hike to be rather addicting.  It was my third time to the summit, and I knew I had found my Phoenix Thumb Butte.  Already I was recognizing sections of trail, and with three friends who do it on a regular basis, I knew it was a great outlet for a strenuous hike.

That and it's rocks. Allllllll rocks.

 Ha!  This looks like a trail.  So deceiving.

 This is far more accurate.  Like 85% is like this.

So, I meandered, people passed me like crazy, and I made it to the top with no asthmatic episodes.  I felt great, and got down in 33minutes-a nice time.

Then I did the Butte.

 Delighted!!!

It's paved, and only .8 miles vs Piestewa's double black diamond 1.2 miles.  It took 30 minutes and I never ran out of breath, didn't need to suck water and I achieved a fitness goal set two years ago-to hike it without stopping.  I even ran down the other side-my first mile EVER in MY LIFE without stopping.  And at altitude, too!!

I was so happy-and thought surely I had cracked a code.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

 My new venture, Cholla Trail up Camelback.

So I decide to do the "easy" side of Camelback.  You know, so Piestewa doesn't realize I'm in love with it.  Gotta keep competing mountains off-balance that way.

Yeah.

 See?  Easy.

 A wee intimidating.

 Sooooo me.  What I love.

I meandered.  I didn't lose my breath.  I enjoyed the view.

 And I called it only 1/3rd to the top.

It was 2pm, and I hadn't eaten anything.  The nausea turned to weakness, which in turn became dizziness.

Dang it.

I hated calling it due to stupidity.  I was so enjoying my meandering, and had no breathlessness or tiredness.  But fainting due to not eating was NOT going to happen.

Reluctantly, I headed down...and struggled.  A hard lesson was learned, and I did question if the heat added to it.  It was 94°, and even though I didn't feel hot and was well hydrated, normally not eating would not effect me so badly.

Yeah.  #learning

I woke up with night shakes, and given the fact it was a day I'd rather forget but couldn't, I wasn't surprised my body was desperate to get rid of stress.  The day was busy-I had a lot of work to accomplish if I was to leave on my epic adventure-and so I headed for Piestewa late.  I got there at 5:25pm, and recall thinking I should look up when last light was.  I figured an hour up, a half hour down and 15 minutes enjoying the summit.  Gave myself 2 hours.

 Which was clearly NOT enough time.

The hike was hard.  Like pull out the inhaler twice hard.  I moved slow like a granny and a hundred people zipped by me...yet still I struggled.  The temp was 95°, and although I had eaten I wasn't feeling to swift.  Though daunted, I continued the climb...even talking some tourists into continuing to the top.

 Because this.

This is the spot dreams are made of, up on the summit of Piestewa Peak.  I sat there and ruminated on the day,  a few tears escaping.  Today had been like so many other anniversaries- I bought myself a piece of jewelry he cared nothing about, and I went on an adventure he missed out on (often when we hiked, we separated.  On our tenth anniversary we each did solo Canyon hikes.)

Today though, I remembered the good and examined the past, promising not to repeat the bad.  I told myself I'd marry again someday at that spot.

Whether I do or not is irrelevant.  It made me feel better to make the goal.

 Sunset at the summit.

The trip down was difficult-in the twilight I was unsure if my footing.  It's hard to hike like a granny-sooo many people pass you it's discouraging.  I only had 16% phone battery, and wanted to save my light.  I finished at 7:42pm, 20 minutes later than anticipated and needing the flashlight the last five minutes.

 I'm not smiling much lately, am I?

The hike, while utterly exhausting, was worth it.  The views were amazing, and I continued my new love affair with the Peak.

 

The middle of Phoenix.  Love this town.

Looking in the mirror-I am fat.  There is 20-25lbs extra that I am carrying every time I hike.  I broke my rules and bought more jeans today, knowing I need them for the trip.  Cardio seems impossible with my lungs, but my legs?

My legs are getting very strong.

Walking up the parking lot, I could feel the coiled power.  They weren't tired or fatigued.  That's good because the epic adventure will require their full cooperation!!

 

#learning

I will do this.  I will figure it out.  I will get fit-and I will do it in a way that works best for me.  Tonight I realized that while I may not be in the 20% who exercise, I'm at the top of the 80% who don't...because I persistently do.

Again and again.

I will get this.  And hopefully one day?  I'll hike up that mountain in a white dress.  Because why ever not?  It certainly propelled me to the top today, didn't it?

Exactly as dreams should do.

Weddings

Today is the 19th anniversary of having married the King of Athletics of the Central Highlands.

 In my Trash the Dress session, wearing my wedding dress, 13 years after said wedding day.  It captures a look only a few people would understand.

Right now, today, I'm not happy with the King.  I'm not unhappy either, in reality, I'm completely indifferent.  I don't hate him, I don't like him.  I don't want to get back together, and I don't want to spend time with him.  We do have a house that is for sale that I am anxious to sell...as I miss being me.  In my own home, with my sentimental treasures that were packed away 18 months ago.

Ohhhhhh I miss my books.

 

Only part of my library.  The pure comfort in just looking at this photo-how I miss my library!!

It's been 18 months since the divorce and staging the house to sell...and the house has not yet sold.  My clothes are out, a few paintings are out...but I'm in Mesa, and I miss my home.  My things.  Silly, isn't it?

 

And I'm aching to reread a few favorites that are packed!!

So it's technically the anniversary of my wedding, but I'm not supposed to reminisce.

Yeah, right.

 

It's perfectly acceptable to remember this day, and this guy, and the wonderful memories associated with it because he died.

 

But wearing this dress and marrying that guy?

Not acceptable.

And interestingly enough, I never in 17 years of marriage (during which I was on Facebook for eight of them) did I ever upload a wedding photo of the King and I.

Isn't that telling?

Our wedding day was wonderful-I had a terrible head cold but I was so happy.  We married in the morning, and had an evening flight to Arizona - and we were upgraded to first class when they found out it was our wedding day.  In fact, the car rental place upgraded us, as did the Ritz Carlton in Phoenix.  

Huh.  Our first night of marriage was in Arizona, as was our last.  Interesting.

I was happy because I was no longer widowed.  Marriage to the King?  Sigh.

It was difficult.  Even when we were engaged.

 

He gives these things to Guippy...but never did to me.  It's a common comment that if he had treated me like he does his dog we'd still be married.

For 17 years I tried, and then I just gave up.

I still feel guilty.  I gave up on him.  I admit-I couldn't take it any longer.  For 17 years I poured into a Christian marriage...and nothing changed.  I was told to change.

And I have.

After I left.

 

This girl:)

As I prepare to embark on an epic journey of crazed solo camping and road trips through places I've not seen (oh yes, prepare for the over blogging to come) I realize he was right:  I did need to change.

But so did he.

Relationships that work accept the changes in each other...help each other through them.  There is gentle guidance, not harsh demands.

 He never told me this until after the divorce...and I couldn't believe him then as I no longer loved him.

Today, I look back on a day that was wonderful-the day a widow was a bride.

 In a filthy fuselage and soooo delighted.  Next time I marry, it'll be in Piestewa Peak in a pretty short white dress and minimus...or so goes the daydream that gets me through rotten hikes, terrible first dates and lonely nights.

On that day, more than anything-I had hope.

Hope for a new beginning, and the end of the sadness that had plagued me for two years.

Hope that Abbie would have a true daddy, and for more children.

Hope for happiness...and a love to last my lifetime.

Three out of six really isn't that bad....

 The Virgin Bride, 21 and naive.

 The Saucy Divorcee, 45 and needing to scratch the adventure itch.

I remember waking up at 22-23 years old, thinking how lucky I was to have such a life with the Knight.  His illness and death I did my best to handle...just like I'm trying now to handle unexpected singlehood.  The difference this time?

Last time, I saw marriage as the antidote to my sorrows.  This time?  

Remembering my wedding day, I see the signs of impending hardship.  I see the stubborn streak that kept me trying for so long.  But most of all I see a young widow, desperately seeking love.

It's not bad recalling a wedding day after a divorce.

Not when it shows you what to avoid the next time.  Not when I reveals the truth.  Not when it helps you see that now, more than ever, you have to be happy to just be me.

 I had to bail on Camelback yesterday...so today I'm heading to Piestewa.

 It's not though, sooooo....

Next week, on the 21st anniversary of the Knight's death, I'm taking off on an adventure.

Just me.

I have no 9-5 job (just Ride, and I can do that anywhere), no boyfriend and the kids are finishing th school year with their dad.  It's time I make sure I am healthy body, soul and mind....

So the next time I stand across from someone?  At a wedding up on a Peak? (Teehee!!! It's a pipe dream but it's MY pipe dream!!)  I'll be doing it for only one reason-to join my life's adventure with him.  Not for my happiness, or to end being a divorcee.  Not to just be married, or have someone in my life.  But to explore the life and changes together, however they may occur.

Next time? It's for keeps.

 Right here.  Those who sow in tears shall reap in joyful singing. Ps. 126:5