For some reason, this housesit has not been easy. Just to look at outward appearances, there is nothing to complain about. The folks were super nice and their house is TRICK. Meaning, I have myself my own little spa working vacation here...steam room in the am, hot tub in the eve, walking to town, view of the Flatirons right out the kitchen window. And just a couple little yappers and a cantankerous cat to contend with.
Granted the cat peed on my suitcase within the first 48 hours, but I've done enough sits to know that that kind of thing just comes with the territory. I've never known a cat that wasn’t full of his or her own unique brand of mischievousness. Maybe that is why...despite the urination, the cat scratches and the waking up in the middle of the night unable to breathe ( why do they always love to sleep on your face at night?)... I inevitably wind up falling in love with them and am a little heart broken when I have to leave.
No, something else is itching at me today. Maybe it was the bromide in the hot tub effecting my brain. It happens. Or maybe I was just lonely. Now I know why I intuitively felt called to name my site (and inadvertently myself) The Gentle Traveler.
The name fits. I must be gentle with myself as I traverse the globe alone, landing in this town and that, helping with random people’s fur babies and never really having my own (even though I would love my own). I have to be gentle with myself when I think, "Someday I will settle down," and the thought smarts like a wasp sting on my heart. Maybe someday I will find the right situation that will “stick.”
In the meantime, I guess wading through the occasional muddy soup of loneliness comes with the territory. Traveling gently means being gentle with myself most of all, when my emotions and my energy just don’t make any sense what so ever.
I think tomorrow I will give snowy Boulder another try.