just being bonnie


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When Dave left on his fishing journey last Sunday, I created a small list of what I was going to do while he’s gone. Not a long list or any big projects but just a list that I could read off when asked what I did during this free time. Just enough that I wouldn’t feel guilty about not doing much.

The list included reading something. While I’m enjoying the freedom I feel with my e-books where I can pull them out whenever I find myself in a place by myself (on my Air and iPhone) and read just a few inspiring pages, I also have a library with lots of printed books I haven’t read. I was looking for one with at least a slim connection to the trip Dave was taking. Hemingway, The Short Stories. I like the idea of ‘short’, because I can stop after any one of them. I don’t have to finish the whole book. Of course he is the classic author fisherman. I also like his style and characters … not sure why I haven’t read much of his work.

I’m through the first three stories and the main character has died in each. It could be depressing but I’m actually hoping for more. Not sure what to think about this yet.

I tripped today. I remember doing this in almost the exact same way last summer. The toe of my Mephisto sandal caught on a raised section of sidewalk. In both cases I was distracted. It’s not that I have to watch every step, but my entire attention was elsewhere so even my peripheral vision was blind. Last year someone I know caught my attention and this time I was texting while I walked. I don’t remember having tripped like this before last year but I expect I have at some time. First it’s embarrassing (I saw no one that saw me this time) and it made me feel clumsy (since it’s the second time in a year should I feel like I’m losing my reflexes?).

My iPhone has added complexity and distraction to the calmness I generally feel. Texting while walking. When it happened I used all my strength to try to catch myself in the slow-motion steps forward but there was no way to stop the downward momentum of my shoulders. I saw a slim edge of grass and set my intention toward it, my iPhone dropped out of my hand, and my left ankle bone and right palm touched the pavement when I landed. Looking up I saw my iPhone was face down on the concrete at the end of the earbud cord. At Erica’s house she pulled out some antiseptic and bandaids to patch up my ankle bone. Several times during the day I checked the face of my iPhone … I still cannot detect a scratch.

My take-away: I don’t need to get a sleeve for my iPhone! Complexity has lead to simplicity. It’s so beautiful when it’s left naked.

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