Letters from Home

I took an evening walk recently, and the neighborhood is a very different place at this hour. (Ha! Just look at the size of our friends’ yard decoration!) I spend 9 months of the year trying to stay warm, and I call that one of my negative adult traits. When I was a child, I was willing to risk a cold face and hands to be outside. I need to be more like that. I have determined to bundle up and take my winter walks whatever time of day I can.

I love walking in the summer, but there is something about the stillness of the surroundings in a winter walk that really calms the soul.

My mind is at odds with itself, with a portion wanting to reflect on the year and to write, and the other portion focused on my TO DO lists. My writing energy has gone to several church talks during the past month. Since I love public speaking, I realize that this time devoted to writing church talks is a gift.

Someone asked me yesterday if I had ever considered writing a book, because she would like a copy of that book. (So nice, right?) “Only every day,” I thought. I said something dodgy and moved on.

The responsible side of my brain wins, again and again.