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Today was one of those days where as soon as I rolled out of bed I knew I had to be “movement”.  It started with a lil acupuncture, the uncomfortable kind, and then one mini road trip to St. Petersburg.  Now mind you, for years I’ve forced myself to think I’m a “live on a whim” kind-o-gal.  Where planning is as as useful as underwear made of toothpicks. No.

So you can imagine how someone whom actually enjoys planning, especially with food, handled such a day.  My slow as hell faux Droid GPS was constantly rerouting, I throw my arms up and park it.  After which I realize I have zero coinage and must either risk being ticketed or pay by phone, which took another balls sweating hour.

Such is the moment!  A reward is in order.  This equals a walk through North Straub Park, one soy latte and waste of carbs Brioche.  Congratulations to me!  It was such a beautiful day I barely have room to complain, honestly.  I packed it up and began the drive home but not before another stop.

If and when I ever read a sign that says “Pick Your Own Flowers” I raise a brow and feel a sudden blanket of calm come over me.  Who wouldn’t want to pick their own flowers…with their own bucket…and shears?  I paid no mind to the bottle of Jim Beam tucked away in the most obvious spot of the certified farmland golf cart, all I wanted was some Zen time with the flowers.

Isn’t this life?  When sudden expectations send us into an inner tailspin; all the running in the world seems to lead us where the flowers grow…even if on the side of the road.

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