There is a new form of recreation out there that doesn’t involve disrobing. I realized I’ve been doing it all my life, but never knew it had a catchy name. I love to be outside. There. I said it. Ain’t nothin wrong with that. Of course, now that I watched a news story about it I must take it more seriously. No more just going out in the morning and sitting on top of the rickety, old metal swing set. (How I never got tetanus from that thing….). Now when I go out I have to ‘listen’ with my eyes. And smell with my ears or whatever. Take it seriously. So seriously. I am a walker. I’ve put in the miles over the years, and credit those gazillion steps with keeping my sanity (ish). I wasn’t bathing exactly, but my psyche got cleansed in an odd way. Now since everyone this year discovered the parks, I’ve rerouted to neighborhoods, and have enjoyed a different kind of scenery. And critique. No more peaceful walks. Full on judgement zone. You need shutters. Landscaping. A nicer dog. Not good. But pretty fun actually. Maybe not quite the bath I need, but clears the trash out of my head and makes room for new trash. (I have lofty goals.). I like being one with nature. I just wish I liked vegetables. Or gardening. Think that would up my game a bit. I need to be a little more Walden, but not the one from Two and a Half Men that ruined that show. (What a great show that was when Charlie Sheen was on it. Still watch it wayyy toooo much). Which is why I need outside. And bathing. As Thoreau wrote, “Only that day dawns to which we are awake”. Now I have no clue what that means, but I feel very earthy having used it. And refreshed. Did I mention I have lofty goals?