itchy feet

Sooner or later my feet begin to itch and I want to be on my way. I’ve been thinking about Callanish on the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides. These standing stones predate Stonehenge by about 800 years. (How do they know?). How does one get there? Do I Google it? Perhaps I have been born a pilgrim. I have also been thinking of Saint Cuthbert’s Walk from Melrose to Lindesfarne. But it seems that the first day is 18 miles long and I’ll bet it isn’t flat. So I’ll really need to get into shape. Closer to here I was thinking of going south to Ohio and see the Snake Mounds. But in this climate most things are not open during the winter months and the summers are too short and too crowded. Next week I am headed for a week at the family cottage on a lake – a day and a half trip, to spend several days with sisters and grandchildren. There isn’t room for us all, so it should be interesting. And in September a friend and I are planning a trip through Northern Ontario to see some of the sights while we are still up here. My feet are itchy. One of the good things about this tragic break-up that I’m working my way through, is that it frees me to follow my nose. Now it’s only the job that holds me down.