Last night I started to touch on the whole year used to switch over on the first of march and then I wandered away to a completely different place, as I do, but I never really came back around. Consider tonight an attempt at full circle.
Last February I left the koots, unsure of how long I would be gone for, though honestly I didn’t think it would be any longer than a couple of months at most. My mum was needing me and when mum needs you, you go. That’s it. It’s not rocket surgery. After a quiet spring, eventful summer and illuminating fall (that’s a post for another day) her house sold in November. Which was a relief because the idea of her going through another winter in that place was a cause for concern. But huzzah! It sold and so I have moved on, like the littlest hobo of women I’m related to with houses that are for sale, I’m now in Vernon at my aunts’ house. (One day I’m going to learn to use commas and apostrophes because I’m so sure I have never really used them properly.)
Now my aunt’s house is in fine condition and I have no worries about the ceiling caving in, which is great. In fact, the only things I really have to do here is drive when the weather isn’t great, reach the things on the higher shelves and shovel the driveway when it snows. It does mean that I’m here and doing whatever I can to help for the duration of the winter. It’s really alright for the most part because she and my cousin (who lives here too and needs a little help now and again) are appreciative and really kind about making me feel at home. Which is great and I feel really good that I’m in a position to help but I won’t pretend I’m not anticipating the day when I leave here to move on to the next project.
Which is all about discovering what it is I really actually truly want to do with my life.
Because honestly, I have no idea what that is. I really really don’t. Which scares the bejeezus out of me on level and thrills me on another. Because that leaves it wide open. I have some ideas though and fortunately am in a perfect place to puzzle and ponder over how it might look. So there it is, march first, the beginning of the year of sorts. At least for me, to a certain extent. It will be a deliciously selfish undertaking, methinks.
Happy new year.