Paths

After slipping and falling twice — once in mud, once on ice — I proclaimed decided that it was time to install a less treacherous path to the coop.

And here it is:

"walkway"

It’s just some BigBox-brand paving stones and a few bags of drainage gravel, but it’s going to make all the difference in the world — especially to our poultry-sitters, who tend to the flocks when we’re out of town and thus do not deserve mild concussions and the like.

I’m also struck by the symbolism of wanting a safe, unambiguous path forward: right now, my life feels very much in flux. Not in a bad way, but in an I-don’t-know-what-to-expect way.

In a few days, I’ll be traveling to Chicago and wrapping up my committee work. I suspect it’ll be nice to “retire,” pass the torch, and reclaim for myself a significant amount of time, energy, and sanity; at the same time, I’ve devoted FOUR YEARS to this very worthy cause and…I suppose I’m feeling a bit at loose ends.

Where did the time go? Also, how exactly did I end up in charge of this traveling circus? On the one hand, I’ll miss everyone and our passionate debates about books, be they credit to OR crime against humanity. On the other hand, I’ll no longer have to read beach house novels about female friendship and that is no small thing.

Meanwhile, I’m applying to a graduate program — part-time, but still. That’s a thing that may or may not happen; I’ll find out in March. Either way, what does that mean for my job? My career? My future? I’ve also been selected for SCBWI-Carolina’s mentor program (which I applied for without really expecting anything to happen, although I’m pleased that it did), so I’ll be doing more fiction writing/revising in the next few months.

Plus, as previously mentioned, we’re doing the solar conversion on the house, an undertaking with a lot of moving parts.

All in all, there’s a lot going on.

Everything seems like it’s changing, or might change, and that —  if or when it does — it will be faster and more demanding than I can handle.

I guess I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the possibilities — profoundly grateful that there ARE possibilities, but also anxious in case I make the wrong choice…or make the right choice and totally mess up. Or whatever.

I am fretful at the best of times, so no matter what happens I am going to worry, even though I know there’s nothing to do but let life unfold as it will.

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