I spent the last 4 days in Seattle. I will save what I did there for another post, but the point is: I miss it like crazy. In the time I lived there, I assembled a robust group of friends from so many overlapping circles and communities that I could map them out into a virtual venn diagram. Now they are 300 miles away. I will say it: Seattle, I took you for granted.
Now I find myself in a funk a lot. The winter never got to me in the SEA, but here I have to fight off the darkness tooth and nail. I have to remind myself that I am in charge of my own happiness. On a regular basis, this means afternoon yoga in my living room.
Sometimes, this means playing hooky on a sunny day.
On one gorgeous Friday I spent the morning working from home. Peter was in town, so in the afternoon we took off to hike up Spencer's Butte. At the top we found a sunny nook to sit and drink tea in. It was unseasonably warm and the grass was dry. I remind myself that I couldn't do this in Seattle.
Last Tuesday I submitted a batch of proposals to fund my Masters research, Wednesday I headed for the mountains. Lauren, Peter and I drove up to the Patterson Mountain Trailhead off Highway 58 for a little day hike. As we neared the trailhead, we encountered something we hadn't thought of: snow. While I was completely underdressed for the conditions, I did have a sled in the trunk. I dragged it up the road so I could sled back to the car rather than walk in ankle deep snow. The trail ran through enough overgrowth that the forest floor only had a dusting in most places, but the veneer of snow transformed the scene into something much more attractive than your run-of-the-mill northwest forest.
I careened back down to the car, shrieking every time I plowed into the trees. This is not a bad way to spend a Wednesday.
Then sometimes, you just have to run away for a long weekend . . .
To be continued . . .
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