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Beth Caldwell - The View From Here

To contact Beth, email her at caldwellandcompany@gmail.com

Memories worth their weight in stone

I am experiencing the letdown that comes with the end of a really great holiday.

I liken my quick descent back to reality to the loud gurgle and sucking swirl of water that I always stare at after finishing a sinkload of dirty dishes.

“Uh-huh, there goes my ‘Cloud 9’ out with the dishwater.”

All of life’s tasks I conveniently forgot about while in Wales now loom in the air around me akin to a cat litter box desperate in need of emptying.

The anatomy of my whole life

I wake up at 6 a.m. every morning, pour a cup of coffee, sit in my favourite chair, write in my diary, and read a daily reflection from “The Book of Awakening” by Mark Nepo.

Until now, I’ve lived a very safe existence—one that’s calculated and organized so that I turn as many of the knobs on the horizontal and vertical as possible.

It’s the control freak in me. I’ve prided myself on being a subtle commander, but in the end a control junkie in my little world all the same.

Thank you for change.

‘Wale’ of a story in the making

I was born with a great imagination, and as I was flying over the North Atlantic one week ago on my way to Britain, I thought my mind’s eye had a pretty good idea what this trip would be like.

Suffice to say, I had no clue. This experience has been more than anything I possibly could have dreamed for myself.

I don’t even know where to begin. My editor would say to start with the most important thing, but even that advice is difficult just now because there are so many stories trying to jump through my fingertips to the keyboard.

Flying high on wings of my own

Let me begin by recanting my sad story about my home septic woes from last week.

It wasn’t a miserable Monday after all. It turned out that all I had to do was replace a dirty filter.

Thanks to “Good Man Joe,” I am free to flush!!

Meanwhile, so here I am on a much merrier Monday (May 7) and on my way to the land of the Welsh. I can hardly believe I am in this story!

Another hurdle in bag before take-off

Leave it to me to make a mountain out of a molehill.

I may be free of guilt trips and voyages to “regret-ville,” but I certainly haven’t conquered my anxiety when it comes to stepping outside my comfort zone and away from my neck of the woods.

I had best find a way to rest my apprehension. My trip to Wales is but 14 days away and there’ll be no turning back once I’m in an aircraft 35,000 feet over the North Atlantic.

But like I said, leave it to me to make a mountain out of a molehill.

I like life to be simple, not messy

I woke up in the wee hours of Monday morning to the clicking sound of my dog’s toenails in failed stealth when he tried sneaking into my bedroom to catch a floor nap before dawn.

“Cash” knows better, but who am I kidding.

This is the same dog that kisses the bottom side of every skunk that pays a visit to my neck of the woods each spring. No amount of skunk squirt ever will be enough to teach that dog a lesson in boundaries.