Sunday, July 12, 2009

Taken it slow

The usual Sunday ride after Sunday morning was full of bicycles and babies.

Since I start this ride later than my normal 8:30 a.m., it is warmer. A summer July day with couples airing out their babies, ladies walking their pups, and lots of bikes. This might be catching on. At a turn I notice a young lady with her grey haired dad, taking it slow.

It is Sunday, so there is no rush.

And “taken it slow” is the theme for today.

The usual sights with some changes. The tree in front of my old house has been cut down and ground to dust at the bus stop. Little more stops than expected with more stoplights and a few phone calls.

Perhaps it’s the summer air or the strange week, but my pace was slower.

Past the house of the Florida girl who’s mother called me this week? Past the “Patterson Express” corner store across from the Laundromat where I traded a Farfisa organ for a Fender ’66 Strat. Then going through red lights, which I normally wait for pausing to catch a breath and a drink of water.

But today, like every other day is different. A new experience presents itself to each of us who wake up in the morning.

My brother and I talked about “to-do” list at lunch today. We both picked up the habit somewhere along the way. Like our good manners and etiquette, we learned something right during our youth.

So my “to-do” list has 8 items. There are so many to-dos, I decided to take little steps and accomplish 8 things at a time. Scratch each off and when that list is done, start a new list.

So gather up the yarn, bagged projects started but never finished. Fill boxes of needles and hooks and plastic and wooden and metal things that mean something to yarn people but have no idea what they are.

Feed the puppy that continues to look for her mommy and clean the fallen bottles of medicine and animal products on the dusty floor.

That’s the “to-do” list today, then home to “How I Won The War” on PBS. I’ve wanted to watch this for some time so there is a message here.

Switchblade in my pocket for some reason and Dot on the phone, I say goodnight to another day and hope the rain comes.

But it’s just another day in just another life.

1 comment:

Art said...

One of your best