A warm shower this morning, a dry blanket, and I feel better. But I also feel like a wimp. I had to come home, when I might have been able to wait out the rain for a few more days. I will be thinking about this. I don't want to quit. I want to go on. I will be going back with much less clothing, bedding and cooking gear. The eleven foot raft will have much less room. I will need to make changes in my cooking style, more aluminum foil, more fish, and lots of fruits. No cans, a pot for boilings, peanut butter, vitamins. No underwear bottoms, because I will be peeing while afloat.
Still, I need people. I talk with them, hug and share with them. Can you arrange this, dear? I know the journey is the right thing to do. A test of courage, a trial by fire, perhaps? I know this is right, but I have nothing to prove. You are with me no matter what. You will bless me with joy always, even when I starve and freeze, if my bed is afloat.
I will not know the reason until this journey ends, continues, ends. I will continue. I will end it later. I will think about this more.
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