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One Cobble at a Time

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Sandra Tayler's Journal

responsible woman

A cobble by itself is just a small stone, but when many of them lay together they create a path . My life is made up of many discrete parts. I have to find ways to fit them all into place so that I can continue to journey where I desire to go. This journal records some of the cobbles that create my path.

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responsible woman

The house feels large after the coziness of a condo. The six of us can scatter one to a room and we’d still have rooms empty. The condo forced us into togetherness–four kids to one bedroom with a single room for cooking eating and relaxing. Over the long haul that small space would create all sorts of stress and friction, but for a vacation it was perfect. In the last moments before we locked the condo and left, I looked around the spaces where we’d spent four days. Partly I was looking for stray items, but I was also committing the place to memory. I was sad to leave, which is probably a sign that we’d found a good vacationing place. It is one we’ll be glad to return to next year. We’re trying a several-year-long experiment of returning to the same vacation location. This was year two. The familiarity of the location reduced several vacation stressors. We’ll see if repeat visits create a comforting vacation fabric or if we’ll need to change destinations in order to attain the same stepping-out-of-regular-life quality which is essential for vacationing.

Perhaps the house feeling large has to do with the quantity of responsibilities contained inside as much as the spaces. Cooking in the condo felt a bit like playing house. I got to open cupboards and discover resources. It was a bit like a scavenger hunt. I need to make scrambled eggs and pancakes, what available tools can I turn to that purpose? Here at home my eyes are always snagging on things to do. Every room has associated tasks. On Monday our regular lives will return in full force. I view that approach with neither dread nor anticipation. For now I am content to coast on the last edges of vacationing.

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