Before the days of ATM machines and debit cards, people went to the bank.
You knew the bank tellers and they knew you.
If you were a regular customer, cashing a check was relatively easy.

Friday afternoons were especially busy in the bank since many people were paid that day.
Before the days of direct deposit, people stood in line to get their check cashed.
Some money was deposited into your savings account; the rest was given to you in cash.

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It was the perfect place to play.
At the end of our street, a massive tree trunk lay across the road.
It did not fall there on its own; it was purposefully placed there.
The builder wanted to close off the road to traffic.

Our street would eventually connect to another neighborhood.
That neighborhood was in the final phases of building.
Until it was completed, the tree trunk remained.
For us mothers it was perfect, a cul-de-sac on one end, a tree trunk on the other.

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When my youngest daughter was in kindergarten she came home with many stories.
Stories about whom she played with, pictures she drew, and what they had for a snack.
I heard about the toy kitchen and what wonderful recipe was concocted that day.
I listened to stories about friends.

Whether you were morning or afternoon kindergarten, there were no buses at lunchtime.
You were picked up at 11:30 or brought to school at 12:30.
There was an orderly line in front of the school as you dropped your child right at the door.

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Driving on the roads this winter is like being inside an arcade game.
Dodge a pothole here.
Point!
Dodge a pothole there.
Score!

I feel as if I’m driving on an obstacle course.
I must be ready at a moment’s notice to swerve.
It seems as if the potholes are multiplying each day.
There is always a new one next to the one you already knew about.

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We have a little car that is used by the newest driver.
It is the car that gets driven locally, back and forth to high school.
It is economical, practical, and a favorite of whoever drives it.

This past weekend we got a recall notice for that car.

We have an appointment with the dealer so that they can repair the problem.
It is disconcerting to realize that we were driving around with a potential problem.
A potential problem that could cause serious injury.
And we never knew.

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I saw a video for an ad campaign.
It was an anti-smoking ad campaign.
It was extremely clever and so very powerful.

The video showed adults smoking in various places and situations.
A young boy and a young girl walked up to the people individually.
The boy and girl had a cigarette in their hand.

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My son and I went out to exchange a pair of shoes.
I am always amazed at the elaborate methods the stores put in place for returns.
Metal poles make an organized queue and remind me of museum ropes.

People have interesting reasons for their returns.
Size, style, or simply not liking the item.
Some bring their item back in the original bag, others use whatever is handy.

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Loading the dishwasher is an everyday occurrence.
Emptying the dishwasher is part of my morning routine.
Everyone has his or her own system.
No two people load the dishwasher in the same way.

Some people put the utensils faced down in the utensil basket.
Others have the forks, knives, and spoons pointing up to make sure they get clean.
Some people would never dream of putting pots and pans in the dishwasher.
Others put everything in there, except the proverbial kitchen sink.

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My husband had to go on an overnight business trip when we got back from our weekend.
Married all these years, I am used to the times he has to be away.
I sleep well and nothing seems to startle me.
Until last night.

It was about 3:00 in the morning.
A noise woke me up.
I jumped out of bed and opened the bedroom door.
The hallway was fine, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

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Do you ever watch the way fall leaves swirl in the wind?
They are part of an autumn dance.
They seem to move to an silent symphony.
Beautiful crescendos and diminuendos.

The leaves, often find their way into my garage at the end of their autumn dance.
The leaves in my garage find their way into my house.
They are crunched and ground beneath feet of various sizes.
Particles of fall color adhere to soles of shoes and pepper the path from garage to kitchen.

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