I was getting ready to have two friends over for brunch.
I got up and decided not to walk that morning.
I had cooking and baking to do, which I thoroughly enjoy.
I was still in my pajamas, knowing that I would dress after I finished everything.

I was listening to a podcast as I worked.
I looked at the clock and saw that I had forty-five minutes before my friends arrived.
Satisfaction.
Much was accomplished by not going on my walk.

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The mother of my daughter-in-love came to visit.
She was driving from the South up to New England.
She was stopping along the way to visit with family.
She wanted to stop at our home as well.

I was so delighted that she wanted to visit.
You must stay over, I texted back.
The invitation was welcome because of all the driving she was doing.
The invitation was sincere, since a long conversation over a cup of tea was long overdue.

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My husband and I were getting ready to go out to dinner.
We would be with others at the table.
I chose to wear a new pair of black ankle pants.
They were hanging in my closet but I had never worn them before.

I picked a shirt, shoes, and purse to complete the outfit.
I was ready a few minutes after I said I would be downstairs.
I felt rushed that night.
My husband wasn’t rushing me; it was something inside me that felt rushed.

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I was sitting in the periodontist’s office.
I was simply there for a checkup.
I came to the appointment on time but the doctor was running late.
I was placed in a blue room, in a dentist chair.

I sat there and wondered why so many dentist offices are painted blue.
It is said that the color blue is calm and tranquil.
The color blue is said to bring down blood pressure.
A soft blue is soothing, relaxing, and serene.

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I went to a conference over the weekend.
It was a creativity conference recognizing the importance of collaboration and community.
The conference itself was called The Inklings Conference.
The Inklings were a group of writers who gathered at the University of Oxford.

The group consisted of writers, C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, and Owen Barfield to name a few.
The men met for almost twenty years.
They shared their writing and discussed their works in progress.
Feedback and encouragement were the order of the day.

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I was a few rows behind her.
She was in her mother’s arms as we were all singing at church.
I would guess that she was about five years old.
Her mother lifted her so she could see a bit better.

If truth be told, her mother lifted her because there will come a time when she will be too big.
There will come a time when this will be in the rear view mirror.
But for now, it was special to them.
It was a sweet thing to witness from my perspective.

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I saw her struggling with the shopping carts.
She was desperately trying to pull one cart free from the others.
The cart was not budging.
The carts were all stuck together.

I was walking towards the carts, ready to get one of my own.
Whoever put these together, put them together good, she said as she pulled.
I saw a lone cart that someone had left near the entrance.
I went over towards it as the woman was still pulling and tugging.

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The text came before lunch.
I stood in the kitchen laughing.
I’m sure my husband heard me from his office.
It was so innocent.

My daughter had been talking to my granddaughter, who is almost three and a half years old.
Since she is in preschool two mornings a week, conversations happen as she gets ready.
This day, for whatever reason, they were talking about Mexico.
Maybe Mexico was in a book they read and it became a topic of conversation.

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I always love one-on-one time with my children.
In fact, for any special occasion, the gift of time is precious to me.
Since we had so many family birthdays, my oldest daughter and I delayed our celebration.
It was actually better because we both looked forward to it with eagerness.

My daughter asked me to pick the restaurant.
We agreed on the date that was best for both of us.
The evening finally came.
I plan to look cute, she texted, but then she always does.

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This was a day of purposeful errands.
Three different stores.
Three different returns.
Why don’t you just get a label and send them back? My husband suggested.

Because that’s harder, I answered him.
He really didn’t understand.
He doesn’t realize that I just might find something to replace what I was returning.
He doesn’t realize that going out and having time to myself in the car is quite nice.

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