Haven’t written much lately. And I don’t know why! Life is good. Went to Italy in March and broke my wrist on the way down Mt Vesuvius. I hadn’t even walked all the way up! Ah, I knew that volcano would get me.
It was a wonderful and amazing trip (pardon the pun) in spite of that unwanted event.
I loved Italy and the coffee they served and the way that they served it. And I have stories about the joys of traveling with my husband, and my daughter and her husband (who guided us with great care and patience), and the wonderful people we met and finding and visiting my grandparents home village.
So why don’t I write about all that in detail?
Meanwhile, I am getting ready to retire in January and I am thrilled and slightly terrified by the whole thing. I will miss the people and the structure of work and the details of my job and being necessary to the whole mission. I will also be elated to not have to attend to all those details and not being necessary to the whole shebang. I will miss the very things I do not currently wish to do. It’s such a mixed bag of emotions and expectations.
The very things I love are sometimes the very things I do not love.
What can happen?