Feel Like a Scaredy Cat

I kinda feel like a scaredy cat.

Three weeks from today I’ll be on a plane to Paris. Me. Simple Midwesterner. Former bed and breakfast owner, linofilm typist and hosiery salesperson. Mother of two, grandmother of three, blogger, crafter, and writer.

Not only am I a bit weary of air travel, but eight hours over land AND sea kinda gets to me. As does not speaking the language, having no sense of direction, having a weird food reaction, the Eiffel Tower being closed because of protesters …

The list is endless.

Of course, I’m not going to let that all stop me. Adventure is the name of the game. Adventure, along with common sense. 

Of course, my husband says this will be nothing new. That I get sick every time we go somewhere new. Am I that predictable?

I am hoping that this time around I am whimsical, scattered, amazed, otherworldly, and grounded. All at the same time.

I try to make every place I land one of mystery and entertainment. This includes campgrounds, neighborhood restaurants, friends’ houses, and walking in my own woods. Rome should be a breeze.

I truly believe we should strive to make every day out-of-the-ordinary.

I know most days we are doing a thousand things that are not high on our out-of-the-ordinary list. But there are in-between times like riding as a passenger in the car or drinking morning coffee or walking the dog that can offer worlds of enchantment, too. Free time where we can think and plan just about anything we want. Including vacations.

Use them. As often as you can.

Now I just have to keep that magic in mind when I climb up the final stairs of the Eiffel Tower — huff and puff, y’all.

Maybe I can find a “magic” pair of wings around somewhere to help me out.