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Hard work is an art. My dad works odd hours at various parts of the house he answers calls. Translating for people around the world needing to communicate about everything from hospital visits to car accidents. My brother-in-law works runs a physically demanding small business to then work in the night to build a home for his wife, son and parents. 

I admire hard workers. I wish I could say I am one. Sometimes I can be but I am always questioning and at times looking for a way out. If something is too hard or I cannot focus. I move on. What if I stuck with the one thing that mattered? To stand by someone you love or to embrace the discomfort of the dream. 

It is in these awkward spaces that we find it. The thing we have been wanting. A challenge, a success, that something that truly counts. Then why do we run and hide? Like a cat away from water. Some cats love the water and tap a paw with curious amusement. I hope that I can strengthen resilience to stand far.  

Funny poster from the B&O railroad station.   
  We visited about 2-years ago.

Of course my little nephew LOVED it.  
  To be a part of ones own history. 
 
   

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