Imagine the Possibilities

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Story Challenge. Thanks to the co-authors of              Two Writing Teachers for creating this  supportive community.

A few slicers have used this format, so I thought I would give it a try. I jotted down numbers from 0 (instead of 1) to 10, then began brainstorming things that would fit. For some numbers I had lots of ideas, others were more challenging, so much so that I had to get a little creative as you will see.  And just to mix things up a bit, I started at ten and went backwards.

10        Number of books currently in my TBR pile. So many books, so little time.

9          +30 equals the number of years we have lived in our current house. So much for a                     starter home. It has changed a lot over the years – an added garage, an additional                    space that started as a patio, then became a screened porch, then became a sun                      room. And lots and lots of wallpaper and paint.

8          Number of cross-stitched pictures hanging on the wall. Years ago I loved to cross-                 stitch. Many are of Amish scenes with colorful quilts and boys in bright colored                       shirts. I also used to cross-stitch designs on my kids’ clothes – rainbows, musical                   instruments, animals, balloons.

7          Number of cars I have owned – a bright yellow Ford Pinto, a brown and tan sedan, a               blue Subaru Outback , a white Chrysler mini-van, my blue-green Nissan Altima with             my first ever sun roof (sigh), my first Honda CRV (red), and my second Honda CRV                 (Mountain Mist). Looking at the list you can tell where the kids started, and one                     thing is not like the others – a brown and tan sedan? Very 70’s.

6          Number of nieces I have. (I also have two nephews).

5          Number of months until Allan and I celebrate our 40^th anniversary with a trip to                     London and Ireland.

4          Number of people in my immediate family. This is also the number of people that                 were in my family growing up (I have one sister).

3          Number of full years I have been retired.

2          Number of children I have – the human kind, not the one with fur.

1          Number of times I’ve been married. I married my best friend, what could be better                 than that?

0          Number of times I have skydived. Enough said. While some of these numbers may                 change with the years, this one never will.

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Story Challenge. Thanks to the co-authors of              Two Writing Teachers for creating this  supportive community.

On the trail yesterday I spied a lone doe. I watched as she bent gracefully to sip from the small stream, then nibble a few chunks of grass emerging through the thawing earth. She lifted her head and observed her surroundings, sniffed the air to discover who was near. When she spotted me, we looked at each other for quite a while. Curious. Fascinated.

Sometimes Allan and I walk Cyrus on the trail together. It’s nice when we point out different things that we notice, things the other might have missed. We converse in quiet tones about our plans for the day, or the week, or who we think might make it to the final four. But we have different paces and places where we like to stop, so one of us is either slowing down or catching up it seems. Sometimes I like to walk alone, to get lost in my thoughts and not have to think about carrying on a conversation. I do a lot of thinking on the trail, and listening -to the sounds of nature or perhaps my most recent download from Overdrive.

Before long I spied the other deer, a group of about five on the other side of a small ridge. One spotted me and quickly came over to the one who was alone, as if to say, “Come on, it’s time to go. Time to play. There might be danger here.” The doe and I exchanged one final look, and then the group scampered up the hill and out of sight.

I think that doe and I have something in common. Sometimes it’s good to be alone.

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Story Challenge. Thanks to the co-authors of              Two Writing Teachers for creating this  supportive community.

I run my fingers over the scratches on the door frame that tell of Piper’s displeasure at being left in the bedroom.

           No worries. We can fix that up with a little paint. This molding has been repainted many times.

          Look, you can see the teal paint under the scratches. Reminds me of when I was a teenager.

And suddenly I’m remembering all the transformations the room has been through in the thirty-nine years we have lived in this house.  Allan and I spent months scraping off the faded flowered wallpaper left by the previous owners, expectant parents preparing a nursery. I scoured wall paper books until I found the perfect Noah’s Ark print for the one large wall without a window. A beautiful shade of sunflower yellow glowed on the rest of the walls as we started a family with Brian, and then Ann.

The nursery, later officially named Ann’s room, got a make-over for her fifth birthday. The walls became a ballerina pink to match the white canopy bed with the flowered bedspread. Curtains made from sheets coordinated with the bedspread danced in the breeze – a perfect little-girl room.

But little girls grow up. As a teenager, Ann wanted her room to be teal and black. Yes, it was the late nineties. But black walls? Really?  We worked on a plan and together she and I spent a hot summer afternoon sponge painting that one large wall without a window. Splotches of teal and black and mauve screamed at us. We made the remaining walls an off-white, and the trim a bold teal. It wasn’t as bad as it sounds, although I do recall Brian commenting that it looked like someone just threw up on that wall.

When Ann left for college we repainted the walls a neutral cream (mostly to hide the sponge splotches on the one large wall without a window) but left the teal trim. Then, after she moved to California, the room became an official guest room of soft yellow and oyster ivory. …

I run my fingers over the scratches on the door frame that tell of Piper’s displeasure at being left in the bedroom.

        No worries. Just one more coat of paint and another memory for this room.

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Story Challenge. Thanks to the co-authors of              Two Writing Teachers for creating this  supportive community.

One night last week I was driving home from having dinner with some friends. Since I had traveled this road hundreds of times before, I was more or less on auto pilot. All of a sudden I gasped! There was someone in front of me waving two large red cones. Luckily, I saw him in time to stop…but just barely. I could see that nearby there was a car that had driven off the road into a telephone pole, and they were getting ready to tow it out. There was no ambulance or other people standing about, so the accident had probably occurred several hours previously. In a few minutes I was waved through, but I couldn’t help but think what might have happened. My head was filled with the conversations of the evening, the laughter and shared good company. I was not in the moment, and it could have been disastrous.

It is not OK to go through life on auto pilot. It is not OK to check your email in the middle of a conversation with a friend. It is not OK to be thinking about the laundry at home, or the grocery shopping that needs to get done, or the wonderful dinner you just had when someone is asking for your help. It is not OK to ever be anywhere but in the moment.

I thought about that incident all weekend. It reminded me of how precious time is and how we must choose wisely how to spend it. There may not be another chance.