The Busy Season/The Musing Mind

Fall nears and life gets busy. I'm off to lead a workshop in northern Michigan on Sunday, back on Thursday, and then off again to Atlanta on Sunday. I love presenting (the actor in me needs a fix), I love meeting new people and seeing new places, but I also dread leaving. I just miss the rhythm of home. The walks the daily bike ride to the office. Bill. Pepper. Pat. Everybody. The birds. Our Chase County birds, I mean, of course.

I'll be 45 years old tomorrow. Quite old. Not many signs of it really. The joint that connects my right big toe to my right foot gets sore if my shoes get wet. But that's about it. Still, even if I live to the 100 years that the palm reader promised me, I'm almost half way there. And certainly people can see that when they look at me. All the yoga in the world won't hide that I have a few years under my belt.

The point to this musing? Not sure.

Happy birthday to me. I hope that someone bakes a cake!

I miss my girlfriends back home in Chicago. Last year at this time they were vying for the opportunity to bake (or buy) a cake. There are many things that I can trust about Bill. But I just can't count on him for this one.

So, I've told him that I must have something to put a candle in. And I think he can handle that. If he doesn't, I'll ask again. Any good coach will tell you, "Don't complain; make requests."

Right.