Today is June 16th and in 11 days I’ll be 52. I remember when we took out our first Mortgage on this house, it was for twenty years and I would be 53 when it was paid off. Well, life happens I guess. The truth is I don’t even know how much money we owe or how long it will be before it is paid off, but I’m not sure we will live long enough to see it.
I though at that time that 53 was old. There is that word again. Old. From Aunt Dorothy I learned that “old is twenty years older than however old you are.” Last week from Susan Miller I learned that young is also twenty years younger. She sat on my patio and told me how young I was and how much potential I had in front of me. When I reminded her I was 52 she scoffed and repeated herself.
Maybe it is the focus that I’ve had on death these past 6 or seven months. Maybe it’s the current state of our finances (i.e. the change jar IS the emergency fund) Maybe it’s the rainy day and I’m just feeling sorry for myself. Maybe it’s all of the above. Maybe not.
At any rate, I’m sitting here on my vacation day trying to motivate myself to start preparing for the garage sale next weekend. It is the reason I took the day off. We are hoping for a very good sale; enough to pay for Susie’s bankruptcy Lawyer and maybe a little more. The basement is full, so there is some hope.
But this morning writing seemed more important. I’ve avoided writing for at least these past 7 months and even longer if I am honest with myself. I spill things out on paper I won’t let myself say out loud. I told myself I was too busy, but judging from the number of games in my Wild Games account and the history on my Spider Solitaire, I was busy avoiding writing. So here I am again ready to make a go of it. I will not make myself promise a daily entry, but I’d like to start putting words together again. Maybe even finish that book.
So here we go…..
Missing Amy 