Day Trip

I would start my post as usual but it seems I'm in a rut. A bit of a writer's block I guess you could say, although I am no writer considering my aspirations tend to be higher than my abilities...

Sitting in a more comfortable area probably makes me the negligent parent as my children are sleeping up in our apartment but I find it nice to be able to sit outside at the end of the day and lack of a balcony or porch or anything up on the second floor leaves me stuck. The cool concrete is hard underneath me but I've managed to find comfort leaning against the wrought iron railing.
I'm imagining a day trip somewhere. Probably a state park as far away from civilization as I could afford, which may not be far since I drive the largest land tank on the planet. Somewhere where I don't have to think, or maybe somewhere where thinking is possible. [The breeze on my skin feels amazing tonight. I close my eyes every time and feel my hair blow behind me then settle back down tickling my shoulders.] If I had endless means I would invest in backpacking equipment. Something about sleeping out in the open is exciting to me. Being sensory sensitive, it's almost an overload of feeling. I love my dad for taking the time to share camping experiences or amateur archaeology digs at old farmhouses in the newly plowed soil. He taught me to appreciate everything, especially the little things. We would "rough it", which meant tent camp in the area of the campground with pit toilets. We would only bring the necessities: sleeping bags, tent, a skillet, firewood, fishing poles, and always a can of beans. We would spend our time hiking and seeing nature at it's finest. Pure and uninhabited. The trails we would take would be the most difficult and muddiest, always with a stream or river to get into. We would fish and catch our food, clean it, and put it in that skillet we brought. If there was no catch we would each eat our can of beans which never happened since, thankfully, the fish were always biting. Ahh... those were the days... If only I could do half as good a job as my parents did I will be content. My soul aches to get away from life for a while.

The light flickering is making it difficult to concentrate. My apartment complex encircles an older looking playground complete with gravel flooring and a tall steel swingset. I like that. The older equipment challenged the child or left room for imagination at least. Swinging high enough to feel like you're flying when you jump off the swing, now that's exciting!

Rain rain go away... Time to shut the computer and get inside. Goodnight blog