I miss my childhood imagination. It was so real- I could practically live anywhere I wanted and be whoever I wanted while I was playing.

I had lots of imaginary friends (with three brothers and no sisters, you need at least a few), each one of them with their own unique background. I remember one was in a wheelchair- though I don't remember the reason why now.

We lived next door to an orchard- the perfect play area for me. Trees to climb- grass taller than I was to run through. It was perfect for my imagination, since I hardly had to imagine anything with all the beauty.

I find myself lately wishing I could use that imagination to escape for just a little while. Just to imagine being in Africa- or in a cottage of my own having tea- relaxing.

Thank goodness for long relaxing baths that take me far enough away from reality to keep my sanity.

9 weeks is too soon. I wish life had a pause button. So we could prepare adequately.


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