Here I am - sitting at my desk and looking out my bedroom window - no green leaves on the trees yet, just old oak leaves still scattered about the grass. The warmth of the sun through the window feels good. Spring is here, though there are still many things that we usually identify with spring not here yet - cherry blossoms, dogwood trees in bloom. The daffodils are just starting to open up and smile. Before you know it - the bees will be buzzing about looking for their favorite flowers for nectar. I am glad the piles of snow are gone. We had a long winter - it was bitterly cold in Jan and Feb. Spring had better stick around and chase out any other chances of flurries. It's only mid April. We've had snow flurries as late as May 26, which also happens to be my birthday. I would rather see the sun and temps in the 70's on my day.
I am excited to get back into writing. It's always been a passion of mine, since I was young. And now I have made an investment in me - joined a writing club and will have a story published in just a few months. And then, the skies the limit.
I have written a few other blogs, one was based solely on the rebuilding of our house after it was burned down in 2009. Another with a similar title to this - Around Robin Hood's Barn -started as a way for me to share the stories of my childhood. But sadly, most of those stories are only written on paper, and not shared yet in this venue.
So here I am - in a new place which I am calling Just Around Robin Hood's Barn. I love that phrase. I remember as a child jumping into the car with my parents and asking, "where are we going?" and one of them would answer, "Just around Robin Hood's Barn", which really meant just out and about and nowhere special. My parents knew every back road in the county and probably other counties as well.
My dad could find the fishing streams on the first day of trout season. I would get up early in the morning with our lunches all packed for a days' worth of fishing. My dad loved to fly fish. Which meant standing in the stream with waders on - holding a long pole and moving it back and forth so that the fake fly at the end of the line would fly through the air and eventually land on top of the water, so then a fish would spot it and gobble it up for lunch. But as it was, Dad would move the pole back and forth and the fly would find it's way into a shrub or tree on the other side of the stream. At that point, he would say, "Susan, please help me untangle my line" "Sure, Dad." and thankfully, I too had waders on, and I would carefully walk through the water, trying not to slip on the algae covered rocks - and find my way to the other side and hunt for his fly. I loved to go fishing with my dad. He taught me all sorts of things about fishing. But mostly, it was a time to just sit and fish and learn to be quiet and patient. I fished with a regular rod and reel that had a line with a hook on the end. Dad taught me how to hold the worm and slide the hook right into it and then weave it back and forth so it would stay on for a long time, even after a few nibbles. I think the fish liked the worms better than the fly, because I caught several fish each time we went out.
This is why I love to write - I start down one road and before you know it, I'm on a totally different one going in another direction. So I suppose this blog will serve two purposes (intertwined too, as you can see). Sharing some stories from my life, and sharing thoughts where I am now and where I hope to be in the next few years. Although everyone is given a new day every morning to do with what they want, not everyone knows just how that will all pan out. When I was married the first time, I thought I would be married for the rest of my life - to that man. We would grow old together. But it wasn't meant to be - well, I chose not to let it happen. And so several years later, I found myself in love with another man. This one would surely be the one I would be married to for the rest of my life. Nope, God said no, not this time either. So I became a widow at the age of 52. Crazy.
So then it was like starting over. It's been almost two years since Barry died. I am surviving widowhood. I wasn't sure at the beginning because the pain in my heart was so strong - like it was ripped in two. Healing takes time - and I know it might not be healed totally til I myself get to heaven. I'm ok with that. I am thankful to have a relationship with Jesus every day - and know the daily strength comes from Him/God. I will reflect on those first two years another time. I am just glad to be back to writing and sharing - even if it's just me who reads it. May God continue to watch over me and you today and forever.
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