For the past year and a half we've been living on top of a mountain. Literally. At a rather high elevation, life takes on a hermitage quality - no desire to leave the mountain is truly present. And, it's not like it's a quick and easy thing to do anyway. Two thousand vertical feet in three miles of switchbacks makes for a stunningly beautiful
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Well. It would seem that one of the downsides of my other space is that family knows about. Don't get me wrong, it's actually completely glorious to have my anonymous little space be totally in the awareness of some of the fam - the focus is pretty family friendly, but as always there seems to be a bit of censorship that happens
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The melancholy post I began last evening (in my head) seems strangely far away now. Not quite irrelevant, just slipping back away into a box where it will remain as little more than a analog record of things in the past, yellowing and heavy with dust
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It came time to replace my boots about two years ago. I finally got around to it this week. The Gent and I were at the shoe store, drooling over all the lovely boots this season, and attracted the attention of a salesman who commented on the fact that the Gent was a far more involved shopper than most of the husbands he saw with their ladies. We
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I find myself a little baffled at where to start. And how to start, without jumping right in and sounding absolutely crazy. I guess I could tell the "who what when where" of the past year, but why not jump right into the parts that aren't so easily defined
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I've been watching the weeks pass by since I last posted, and somewhere, decided that I was waiting a full year. Random decision, meant nothing, I just kept watching and thinking "wow, it's been almost a year
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