I would pick more daisies

At the moment I’m on a writing retreat at Ty  Newydd in Wales. It is the most beautiful day and I have been for a walk by the sea. On the way back, I spotted a dandelion clock. It made me think of my children and how they would squeal and fight over it. I walked on past. And then something made me remember this poem. And I went back to pick it. And I blew the seeds into the air like fairies. And felt better for it.

So, I thought I’d start blogging again and I thought I’d start by sharing this lovely sentiment.

If I had my life to live over,
I’d try to  make more mistakes next time.
I would relax.
I would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have been on this trip.
I know of very few things I would take seriously.
I would be crazier.
I would be less hygienic.
I would take more chances.
I would take more trips.
I would climb more mountains, swim more rivers and watch more sunsets.
I would burn more gasoline.
I would eat more ice cream and less beans.
I would have more actual troubles and less imaginary ones.
You see, I am one of those people who lives prophylactically and sensibly and sanely
hour after hour, day after day.
Oh, I’ve had my moments and if I had it to do over,
I’d have more of them.
In fact, I’d try to have nothing else.
Just moments, one after the other,
instead of living so many years ahead each day.
I have been one of those people who never goes anywhere
without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a gargle, a raincoat and a parachute.
If I had to do it over again, I would go to places
and do things and travel lighter than I have.
If I had my life to live over,
I would start bare-footed earlier in the spring
and stay that way later in the fall.
I would play hookey more.
I wouldn’t make such good grades except by accident.
I would ride on merry-go-rounds.
I’d pick more daisies.

Nadine Stair, 85, Louiseville, Kentucky