- free to go or travel about; not confined by responsibilities.
Sometimes it’s 18 degrees but you have to walk the dog anyway after a long night of waiting tables. Sometimes you try to rush it and jog a bit and fall on the ice. But then sometimes you see ten bright shooting stars within ten minutes. You run back inside, pour some wine, warm up the car, say to Pal, “Would you like to…” and he’s already up and prancing to the Kia. He doesn’t know the plan, he doesn’t have his own beverage, he doesn’t care; his answer is yes.
I love this about him. He’s footloose and fancy-free. We drive to a nearby dark parking lot, blast the heat, and watch the sky in awe. No idea seems too quirky, and I’ve flirted with the line a bit.
Want to hike up this hill full of sagebrush to decorate the tiny pine tree on the tippity-top and have a snack and then undecorate it before hiking back down?
Want to pop some Jiffy Pop and drive sixty miles north to see what the sunset looks like over the Sawtooth Mountains?
Want to pull over on the side of the road when we see a bright yellow aspen grove and go sit amongst them and talk to ourselves about how lucky we are to have this one wild, precious, beautiful life?
He smiles like an oaf and plays along. He makes my life so much sweeter. A bit harder, too. But without him, I’d be in my warm bed sleeping instead of seeing the sky light up with wish after wish.
One thought on “footloose.”
LOVE LOVE LOVE!