Sometimes I just want to do nothing. I wake up, figure out what day it is, think about what I have to do and then breathe a sign of relief when I realize I don’t have to do a thing. I use days like today to ride around and see the Cape as if I were a tourist. Other times I shop in some little out-of-the-way place where I can find neat, unusual things as if my house has room for any more.

It is a back and forth sort of day. The sun peeks out of the clouds then hides again. It is only 63° and will be like this for the next few days. Wednesday is supposed to be summer hot. I predict a deck day.

The neighborhood was noisy this morning with the sounds of little kids so I was awakened at 8:00 which wouldn’t be too bad except I went to bed at 2. It was just one of those nights when I wasn’t tired. I watched the cooking channel.

Once in a while I get this urge to travel and I just want to go. The destination is unimportant. It is the going which I crave. It is needing to tend to my affliction, my wanderlust. My passport is always up-to-date just in case. My car is gassed. It would take all of five minutes to pack my bag: toothbrush, underwear, a couple of shirts and a clean pair of slacks would do me fine. I know I have a trip in August, but that feels like a long time away.

If I were exiled to an island and could bring whatever I needed to sustain me, I’d have books and music, expecting, of course, that the food would be provided as well as an unlimited supply of batteries (it is, after all, my daydream). A beach chair by the ocean would a wonderful place to while away my exile. Maybe I’d live in a thatched treehouse, a Tarzan sort of place where he and Jane had set up housekeeping. I’d swim by the reef, and I’d do a little a little fishing from my chair. My rod would be stuck in the sand so I’d have little to do but pull in dinner. Interesting debris would wash up on the shore, and I’d decorate my thatched house with the oddities brought by the tides.

I know that wouldn’t happen, especially the batteries, so I’ll settle for my deck, an oasis, an island, in the back of my house. Right now the sun is shining, the birds are at the feeders, and my deck looks like the perfect place to spend a little time with my book and my music.

I think my life is wonderful and I even like the feeling of wanderlust. It keeps me from ever being bored.