A diagnosis, prognosis, fate, past, future the only thing six months isn’t is the present… we’ll unless you’re six months preggers, and if you think that’s possible for me, fie on you. Once upon a time I wanted so badly to have a second child, Psam wanted so badly to have an older brother. So, no I’m not six months.
Six months ago I was re-learning I love to fish. I’d forgotten the joy of casting, the solitude of reeling in my line and casting out once again, and once again, and once again until my shoulder (and lower back if truth be known) said enough. Six months ago the summer sun was contemplating the autumnal bend and I was morphing into my annual gardening burning out. But the days were warm, the wind had died down and all was good.
Six months ago my much beloved Ducks were stretching their muscles, running their routes in daily doubles waiting for the season to begin.
Six months ago Psam and I went and got tattoos.
Six months ago I wasn’t contemplating a diet. Silly me.
It snowed today. Don’t laugh, it wasn’t much (especially not what the weather
service had forecasted) but it was snow and it kept my husband in the valley for nights on end. It will keep Burp from coming for the weekend. But it wasn’t enough to make snow angels in.
In six months I will begin watching the Siuslaw for jumping Coho and Silvers. I will be itching to cast my line, reel it in, and cast again. In six months I will be planting my tulips… maybe… depending on the condition of my petunias. In six months I will put it off until the rain starts then curse myself.
In six months I will sit watching with drooling anticipation ESPN’s game day, counting down the moments until my beloved Ducks kick off against the LSU Tigers (September 3rd to be exact) and the hunt will be on.
I now weigh several pounds less than I did six months ago. Sadly, I can remember what I weighed when I flew to England in 2002, but not what I weighed six months ago. It must have been bad. I am happy to say I am eating far less carbs, a lot more bell peppers, salads and Marrion Berry balsamic vinegar, as well as the appropriate size food portions. Where will I be in six months? Maybe a size 14 – that would be nice.
In six months maybe I will get a stargazer lily on my left foot. It could happen.
PS I know my snow pictures are pathetic, but humor me I live in Florence we don't get a lot of snow... more than Sid, but less that Lyn and Jenniphur.... geez even less than Psam.
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