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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An email arrived from a store that I ordered from only a handful of times.
They were ready to ship my bike.
There was one little problem: I never ordered a bike!

My husband called our credit card company.
Sure enough, there it was…a fraudulent purchase.
Someone used my phone number, my credit card, but his California address.

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In a few weeks, my husband and I are going to a football game.
It is not just any football game.
It is a game between my husband’s alma mater and our son’s law school.
Many friends will be at this game; people I haven’t seen in over thirty years.

I am not a football fan; I cringe at any play that involves sounds of injury.
I think my reactions are entertaining to my family.
I have sat through soccer games, field hockey and lacrosse games, as well as track meets.
Football is just not for me.

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I couldn’t believe my eyes.
I was checking my rear view mirror when I noticed a strange sight.
Some people may have a dog on their lap as they drive; this man had a horse.
A puppet of a horse head was on his left hand.

It was terribly disconcerting to see.
It startled me, until I saw how much enjoyment this man was getting from the attention.
He was waving the horse head at the passing cars.
The look on people’s faces was priceless.

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She was a new teacher.
She was very young.
She had just graduated from college and this was her first teaching job.

A high school math class filled with juniors was her charge.
A higher level math class.
You would think the students would have had some modicum of wisdom.

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It was such a lovely morning.
How beautiful the morning is this time of year; crisp and clear.
I need a jacket on my walk.
That’s fine with me; I enjoy the cooler weather.

I am not a fan of fog; it is too mysterious.
It is a bit ominous when you cannot see your hand in front of you.
The morning looked like a scene out of an Agatha Christie novel.
I was waiting for the detective in the trench coat to be around the next curve in the road.

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The other night was Back To School Night for my youngest daughter.
I did the calculations: five children, twelve years of school before graduation.
I have gone to sixty Back To School Nights over the years!
You would think I would be an expert by now.
You would think!

I got there a few aggravating minutes late.
There was no parking to be found.
I walked in the building, my schedule that my daughter wrote for me in my hand.
I went to her first class, or so I thought.

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My youngest daughter was driving home last night in the rain.
It had never rained here but I saw the dark clouds in the distance.
I was praying for her safety.
She came home and told me how bad the rain was on her drive home.

Mom, I drove so slow. It was a downpour.
As soon as I got close to home, near the road with the barn on the left, the rain stopped.
It was like someone turned off a switch; a literal line of rain, then no rain.

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