Footloose

At a certain period of my life, I was a known peripateticcosmopolitan brother of the road, nomad, itinerant, and just plain unsettled. I was told by several willowy slender beauties that my inconstancy of abode was a significant issue in forming and maintaining relationships. Nevertheless, the itchiness of my foot continued until I settled into life as an undergraduate.

Like most renunciates, I fell back into old habits when needed.
But I tended to stay put. It’s hard to gad about for thousands of miles by the thumb when you have art and carving supplies, books, and more clothes than will fit in a pack – The clustering of possessions impedes rapid travel.
The cat, too, preferred to have his blanket and toys unpacked and placed in a favorite location. You did not delay the GreyMenace’s pleasure too long unless you were willing to donate your O negative blood. He had a temper.

So the skein of my life grew too complicated for road adventures. And I developed other interests.

But, with one exception – (my beloved wife!) I did not find myself swamped by the presence of willowy slender beauties. Sigh.

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