Can one jaunt when really – they’re just running errands?
going by the definition, definitely NOT
jaunt n. a journey taken for pleasure
I woke up this morning feeling as if my blog is much more exciting than my real life, and that something must be done about this. I’m not asking for big thrills, but maybe just a touch of “jauntiness.”
My last errand this week was going to the Serendipity Wiggly. Most call it the Piggly Wiggly. But I call everyone’s favorite grocery store to say out loud here the Serendipity Wiggly.
Yesterday hidden the dark recesses of the near empty bakery refrigerator, I found this cake for my piano loving daughter:
It was her 17th birthday. No clue how that happened.
I remember as a new infant how she liked to watch the vertical blinds swing back and forth, her eyes so big it seemed too far for her to shut them.
Parking her bassinet in front of the window to take away her baby suntan, bent elbows, fists flung up over her head, basking, surrendering to sleep.
Now she looks like this:
I’m not at all sure how I feel.
She also flies, flings, sashays and journeys.
She studies, thinks, wonders, plans and stresses. She dances.
She spews. She laughs.
I’m jaunting tomorrow. I’ve decided it – ahead of time; because after 17 years I know it never just happens.
Don’t know where to exactly, but I’m doing it. I’m pulling my head away
(not for the first time in 17 years - never meant to imply I’m Saint Mother or Anything.)
But I’m going to jaunt. Somewhere.
From there I will look back towards my life, my family, my blog, my dog and say, yes I like the view from here.
Pull it from dark recesses and bring it home.