A package arrived yesterday. I’ve been eagerly anticipating it’s arrival. Inside there was a book and a pair of socks. It doesn’t take much to make me happy. But this was not just any book, nor just any pair of socks.
It hits me every year – just about this same time, getting ready to turn the calendar page from July to August. I call it hitting the brick wall. August, for me, is the ultimate work week Wednesday hump day. Only instead of 2 more days in the work week, I’ve got 2 more months before I get a day off. I’m not
whining complaining (well, kinda I am) it’s just fact.
It’s about this time each summer when I’ve grown weary of the high temps because while Abi enjoys the heat, it sucks the life out of me. Give me a cool crisp fall day every time. I see people out and about wearing flip flops and shorts, they’re sporting tans and people are tossing the Frisbee in Lithia Park. It’s all very summeresque, but it’s not for me, unless of course I’m poolside in Cabo San Lucas with a margarita on the table next to me. But here in Ashland, it’s too hot for this girl! I hole up during the day; only venturing out after the intense heat of the sun has subsided. Does that make me a bat?!
My brick wall is a metaphor for I’m hot, I’m tired and I am aching to hit the road. I am surrounded by travelers passing through our B&B on a daily basis, reminding me of adventures to come. In the meantime, while I stand over a hot stove each morning, I dream of fall and all that it will bring; the crisp cool air, the glorious reds and golds of leaves changing color. My favorite cardigan sweater and thoughts of being on the open road are calling me. And then I catch a bacon grease splat in the eye and it jolts me back to reality. It’s a good reality, I can’t deny it, but I’m always thinking two steps ahead of myself.
A Book and Socks
But back to the book and the socks. In just about 6 weeks from now, we’re going to make a BIG announcement. We’ve got some major plans in the works. I’d like to spill the beans right now at this very moment, I cannot. No, no, don’t beg, everyone likes a good cliff hanger. But I can drop a couple of hints. The book. The socks.