As Winter slowly rolls into Spring-do I have to remind you it snowed here last week?- I find myself hurrying about like a caged animal. All I want to do is go out and walk. Hills, paths, roads, patrols, routes and old railway lines beware, I will wear you out! I feel like a big snuggley bear that has spent much too long wrapped up warm in a cave. I am done with hibernating, I want to get out and DO things.
The husband, how might I say this politely, is not like me…not at all, what-so-ever. He is much too fond of comfort. Now I agree with him to a point, and we do have our fair share of expeditions, but I inherited the walking gene and there is nothing I can do but pray our children will do the same. The husband, bless his heart, quite rightly asserts that walking should only be done ‘to’ and ‘from’ places. These places can be sights, scenes, gardens or venues, but certainly not “Oh, what do you think is down this path?”
We sat and the husband watched bikers go by...he would have rather been there with them!
It looked a bit like Spring for a little while at least!
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