Sometimes I think I was born in the wrong time; that I was meant to be somewhere in the past – somewhere with no cars, corporate ladders to climb, or degrees that must be earned. A time when you could grow your own food and never have to leave the square mile that you were born in.
And then I think I probably wouldn’t have survived. Odds of survival are even less now, if by some chance, I traveled back in time from my cushy existence here. Hmm, something to think about.
A random (oh, how I hate that word, or rather it’s new usage – i.e. “You’re so random!”) observation that has nothing to do with time travel. My dad uses this “word” that I think is made up and I wonder where he got it from. Maybe his parents or grandparents, and I wonder where they may have gotten it. The word is “journally” and he uses it like one would use the word “usually.” For example, “You journally don’t eat green peppers, do you?”
Edit — Just discovered from my mother today that she believes he means “generally.” Of course.