How easily today fades into yesterday. I planned to blog last night but the last minute events of Friday ran away with me. Today I fly to Belgium. Yesterday I did things I love with people I love and crammed packing and erranding between.
The love part was reciting “Twas the Night Before Christmas” to five classes yesterday morning and listening to my friends Liv and Braden sing their hearts out in concert last night. Wide-eyed 5-year-olds gazed up at me as I jollied my way through the poem. Their mouths as little o’s transformed into glee as I said “Twas” a second time … really fast. My record yesterday was one minute and one second. Oh, what a good boy am I!
My friends form the duo “Tragedy Ann” and they blend beautifully – as singers, as instrumentalists, and most impressively as human beings. Their love for each other shone from the stage. And songs such as the haunting “Regulars” shine a light on us human beings, this time the stories of ordinary folks who frequent a bar that is home.
Morning and evening were deliciously slow. Still, the nasty little voice would sometimes intervene. “Why did you say “Twas” to so many classes today? You’ve got a big deadline tomorrow. And what’s with the concert? You should be focused on the task at hand.” Silly voice. People are infinitely more lovely than schedules. Don’t worry, frantic one, I’ll get the job done. I’ll fly from Toronto tomorrow (today) at 6:00 pm.
Other parts of my day were a blur of doingness. A stop at Best Buy to pick up an electrical outlet adapter for Europe and Africa. Hmm. Do I also need it to be a voltage converter? I didn’t know and neither did the well-meaning salesman. I bought a combo unit.
The kitchen counter was covered with stuff. Most crucial was all the health info. Make sure I take the vaccination card so Senegalese officials know that I’m protected from yellow fever. And oh, where did I put the bottle of insect repellent – the type with super-DEET? Clothes for very cold and clothes for very hot …
Wait a minute … I forgot to fill the nyjer feeder. The new seed that I bought is still in the trunk. C’mon, go go go! Scissors to open the bag. Feeder all dry now in the sink after a good washing. Remember your physio appointment in London at 2:30.
Feeders filled, birds soon to be happy, I set off for London, just a little late for comfort. Seven minutes to the freeway and now I can rev it up. 110 kph, not many cars … I’m golden. I greeted the clinic receptionist with three minutes to spare. Ahh …
Slow through the session of exercises and muscle stimulation. That’s better. But my re-entry into Scarlet got me going again. “Once you’re home again in Belmont, you’ll have at least two hours of organizing time before you have to drive back to London for the concert. No sweat.”
And then the moment of the day: At a stoplight, there’s a woman knocking on the passenger window. She’s holding something. I roll down the window. “These scissors were on your trunk.” Oh my. “Thank you so much.” As we started up on the green, I waved to my new friend in the rearview mirror.
Now you tell me … How exactly am I still in possession of my dear scissors? Is there some benign force that’s wishing me well as I head off into the world? I say “yes”. And that voice simply says “Be with people.”