Good intentions. They are lovely things, but they don’t actually do anything. I have piles of them: things that I want to do, hope to do, plan to do. One…
They are lovely things, but they don’t actually do anything.
I have piles of them: things that I want to do, hope to do, plan to do. One of them was this blog. I had intended to start it with the beginning of my road trip to Houston after Hurricane Harvey. I was armed with 6500 pounds of pet supplies in a U-Haul trailer and the well-formed intent to begin my blog with the story of this trip. And now, a week later, I have delivered those supplies and many others. I have unhooked the trailer, returned it to U-Haul and packed up my car for the drive home. I have pictures, video and important stories to share, but as of this morning, those good intentions are still staring at me from the passenger seat, drumming their fingers on my laptop, waiting for me to write.
Part of the problem was mind-numbing exhaustion from both the trip and the work. Part of it was simply fear of committing to a concept, fear of failure, fear of whatever, or just fear. So here I sit in a lovely hotel room in San Antonio, Texas, still two days from home, with my pup, Fig, sound asleep by my side, and I am going to start this blog.
I’m not going to tackle the stories of the trip today. To be honest, I am still processing much of what I experienced. That will come another day.
Today, I’m just going be happy that my blog is started. And I’m going to share a photo of Fig enjoying the “Heavenly Dog Bed” that was brought to the room when we checked in this evening. He acted as though he had never experienced anything so magical. For a little guy who has been an absolute trooper through a fire alarm, seizures, two thousand miles of driving, and all of our other experiences this week with zero complaints, it was a little luxury that was very, very well deserved.