Life should be celebrated, and the only way to make that happen is to...(alert, profoundness ahead)
credit: unknown with permission
I know a few great stories of recent life re-inventions, but best to let people tell there own tales of that sort. Mine is the one where I know what really happened next.
The Island Woman cart, which kept me pretty happily occupied for quite a few years - and why shouldn't it? I got to sell cool stuff, make fun stuff, hang out on a corner reading, talking to friends, meeting, for the most part, interesting people - was both easy and hard to give up.
Easy because it was no longer a viable way for me to earn a living, one way and another, postage and handling included (luckily, Hannah won't have that issue, all of her beautiful work is made by her and other local artisans). I won't miss telling 873 people how to get to _________ . I won't miss certain kinds of people implying it is somehow my fault that it is: raining/too hot/too buggy, or that there is no milk/no water/no veggie guy/no dry cleaners (really)/no gas, that too loud are roosters crowing/parranda music/music in general/their air conditioners (really).Ok, I am still giving the occasional directions, and I don't mind that. Key word, occasional.
Hard because I miss seeing a lot of people I had come to enjoy on a daily or at the very least, weekly basis. Sometimes for chatting, a lot of times just waving, but it kept me smiling. I miss meeting the travelers who stopped along the way and the ones who come back every year. I'll miss seeing what socks Betz is wearing...yes, the good people, that's a big hard part I'll miss. And the firemen...and and and. 97.7% of the cart experience? I was blessed.
I'm not sure exactly what I've re-invented myself to be. What do you call some sort of hybrid baker/farmer/hot sauce maker along with being the shaky left hand to a good friend who manages houses and keeps me busy? All I know is that, thanks to people, local and part time alike, it's working and while I may be a mite more tired than sitting in a chair got me, I'm tired in body and not in mind. My mind and heart are singing, most of the time (unless the rye flour doesn't get here). And there is nothing, NOTHING better than that. I'll never be rolling in
Which brings me to... That little tip jar over on the side? I've set it up blindly, so I don't know who tips. But for those that have, I'm shocked and slightly overwhelmed each time I'm notified. That new computer I have to get? It's helping, so I can keep on doing this. As Shakespeare wrote, "I can no other answer make but thanks and thanks and ever thanks."
Thankfulness. I'm full of it (hush). That I like as well as love my children (and grands). That I have incredible friends, true friends, both here and around the world. Friends that teach me, let me be myself, admonish me, love me. I can go into the New Year knowing if I break every resolution I attempt, they will laugh but not meanly. If I fall, they'll help me up, and then laugh. But not meanly. And I've got people who will buy my bread! Holy wow! The eggs are coming the eggs are coming.
There was the loss of friends in 2011 that were and are hard. Really hard. It doesn't make me stronger, sorry. But it does encourage me to try to live as vibrantly as they did, and that helps push me along. As it should. Because they were the kinds of friends who'd kick my ass (their phrase, not mine, of course not!) if I didn't. I'd deeply appreciate it if everyone I love would just stay on the planet this year. Deal? Deal.
Happy, hopeful, work towards making dreams come true full New Year. I'm so thankful for all of you.
I woke up and here I am.