outside, inside

Things have changed around here. With one person less in the house. The house seems bigger. A glimpse into what empty nest looks like, and yet not quite. Sarah has almost 3 years of high school to go. Which brings me back to choices, and my dream. To proceed would mean missing out on those 3 years, of forfeiting daily 4 o clock chats & tea, growing and learning and sharing.
Philip took a bus the other day. He texted from across the street. "Can you see me?"
I looked out and he waved. So simple, taking a bus.I haven't done that in the longest while. Or read a novel. Or watched TV, in bed. "How to be simple?", he asked."do less, have less, want less, work less, live more", I replied. "and move to the mountains?" he asked , and I could imagine the gleam in his eye.I thought about it , then asked, "Will it have a view of the ocean?" Not so simple...
Outside my house I have this view, blue green sea right up to the horizon. Driving home is the best, even driving out the gate , if you're not preoccupied, you look up and gasp...

I didn't make any more Christmas cards. I lost my rhythm, things came up, work piled...
I was supposed to be at a women's conference at church today. Friday 9am. Check. I closed the shop, started to clear my desk yesterday, then I discovered that it was on Saturday! Well, ok, I now find myself with a free day. Odd. Nice. A whole empty page with no appointments or commitments. =) So I happily worked at my desk, no phone nearby and when I finally went to get my phone Caroline had left a message that she was in town and could we meet on Friday for lunch, tea...
Ok.
So today is filled up. Desk. Caroline. Pick Sarah. Send for Guitar lesson. Pei Pei. Exercise...bla bla etc.
Tomorrow, shop closed, Women's Conference, Weekend... away for a week...and on and on, inside outside, where am I going?
Two questions play in my head.
1.Could I do the 'no appointments on my moleskine page' thing? Everyday?
2.Who would I be if I didn't work?

The shop is closed today. At 8.30 I was warring with myself. "Should I go there anyway? Maybe some people didn't get my message or go to the website..." I resisted. So here I am, writing random observations, watching my thoughts , like those red ,lit moving messages at the airport... never ending, repeating, then changing,then repeating.