Day 350. Welcome Sight

Are you away from home a lot? Do you do a lot of traveling? There have been times, on and off during my life, when I did travel very often. Mostly on business, although I have taken my fair share of holidays.

I’ve taken short trips, gone and back the same day. I’ve taken trips lasting from a few days up to a couple of weeks. And I’ve taken longer trips of a month, or more. And it’s always the same. I’m excited to go. Filled with anticipation. Looking forward to being away. Meeting new people, exploring new places. Even if it’s just a business trip, I’m taking.

Then, when I’m there, at first I want it to never end. I fall in love with wherever I am. I dread each passing day. Because each one brings me closer to having to leave. And then suddenly, within the last day or two, something changes. I find myself looking forward to getting back. To my friends, to my cats, to my routine, to my regular haunts, to my home.

Does the same thing happen to you?

It always surprises me. Because just days before I was wishing I could stay away forever.

Day 260. Good Morning

Read, in last Sunday’s New York Times Magazine, about the troubles over at the Today Show.  Falling ratings, anchor problems, the very messy ouster of Ann Curry, etcetera etcetera etcetera.  Embarrassing as it is, I must confess I was only vaguely aware of it.

And only because it was mentioned on a show I was watching.  Maybe Bill Maher.  Honestly, I don’t remember.  I wasn’t really paying attention, because horror of all horrors, I don’t watch breakfast television.  Or whatever it’s called.

Morning TV??

Beats me.

I know a lot of folks who can’t start their day without it.  Not me.  Although I don’t know why.  I’m up early

Day 154. Must Haves

Forgive me.  There seems to be a recurring theme here.  Hope you’re okay with it.  Just seems to be a lot to say on the subject.  When I first talked about cutting back on spending last Friday, I had no idea I’d still be talking about a variation of the same topic four days later.  But here I am.

Yesterday the idea evolved from buying less, to living with less.  In less space.  With fewer possessions.  Even traveling lighter.  But it’s Morristown Memos, a fellow blogger, who’s the inspiration behind today’s post.  The comment she left, in response to a statement I’d made, was very honest.  I said I was ready to get rid of all but a few ‘possessions’ and go off somewhere and live a simple life.

I’m paraphrasing here, but she essentially said figuring out where to go is a challenge, because giving up some creature comforts she is used to, isn’t really an option.

Day 4. Flower Power

It’s a dull day here, today.  Grey and overcast, with a threat of thunderstorms.  I woke up to the sound of rain rat-tat-tatting against my windows; and it’s been on again, off again ever since.  God knows we need some rain.  We’ve had an exceptionally hot, humid and dry summer, in Toronto.  But still, it’s dingy out there.

Which has, for some inexplicable reason, made me think of flowers.  Probably because the sight of even a single bloom can brighten any day; and any mood.  No matter how dark.  I love all flowers.  From the simplest daisies to masses of brightly-coloured bougainvillea, trailing willy-nilly over fences and walls.  From tulips that droop gently over the side of a vase, to window boxes crammed full of cascading geraniums and petunias.  Unassuming garden variety posies.  More exotic varieties, like orchids and calla lilies.  I even like buttercups.

Sometimes all it takes to make me happy are a couple of sunflowers, cheering me on.  Sometimes I crave something much more over the top — like  dozens of the palest of blush-coloured roses, informally ‘plopped’ into an old cut glass bowl my grandmother gave me.  And sometimes I want to play, mixing all kinds of different flowers together, in colours that range from fuchsia to scarlet to burgundy to almost black — shoving the whole bunch of them into a shocking, deep turquoise pottery pitcher.  It all depends on my mood.

But all this talk about flowers has sparked a memory, of a glorious month-long trip I took to India a few years ago.  Talk about flowers!

I could write dozens of stories about that trip (and perhaps I will), but this time I’m confining myself to an experience I had on our last day there.  We were in the