Grey and rainy October day...my favorite kind. Roasting coffee in the chilly morning air, dreaming of new designs to stitch up into reality. Not a bad life.
Looking at farms waaaay up north has been exciting, enlightening, and scary. Could I leave my family, and go that far away? Could I leave my grown kids? Could I leave my sisters?
But would I love it? Have I become so old that my life long dream of going somewhere beautiful and peaceful has become unreasonable in the actual doing of the thing? Should I have acted sooner?
Or is this just the extension of decision making based on fear? Where is my sense of adventure? Where is my independent free spirit? Oh, where is my hairbrush?*
In the long run, I guess I have become content without knowing it. Who'da thunk it?
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