Petworth Neighborhood – Washington, DC February 21, 2020 6:26 PM
The last time I was able to visit my family in Washington DC was this past February. Four days with my daughter, son-in-law and grandson. A dinner out with my son. Memories made.
It was right before the pandemic exploded onto the scene here in the United States.
Little did I know on this beautiful moonlit night that I wouldn’t be able to see my kids again for many months to come.
A few months ago, in that sliver of time between the pandemic’s summer lull and the current surge, I took care of a few neglected health care appointments. I had not been to these two facilities in at least a year.
What a difference a year…and a pandemic…can make.
The waiting areas were stark and impersonal. I totally understand why, but it was still a shock to see the rooms stripped bare of anything welcoming. No magazines. No brochures. Just warning signs everywhere.
Even though I did appreciate the vases of fake flowers attempting to add a sense of normalcy, I couldn’t shake the surreal vibe in the air.
However, I did avoid the time-out chair in the corner. It felt too much like we were all being punished. A tad bit too creepy for me.
Wouldn’t you like to expose your newer readers to some of your earlier posts that they might never have seen? Or remind your long term followers of posts that they might not remember? Each Friday I will publish a post I wrote on this exact date in a previous year. How about you? Why don’t you reach back into your own archives and highlight a post that you wrote on this very date in a previous year?
~~~
The following post was published on November 20, 2018 – as an entry for V.J.’s Weekly Challenge. I know this sounds cliché, but two years feels like a lifetime ago.
********
Deviation
This post is inspired by V.J.’s Weekly Challenge #24: Deviation
Which way?
Deciding. A constant struggle. When drilled to Never stray. Never deviate. Playing the part Paralyzed.
That knot in my gut For years Warning me Within the haze To take a different path. Safety Just an imposter.
Which way?
To face the fear Finally. Finding the courage And strength To discover that Old realities Were in fact A fragile fantasy.
Choosing A new search for why. Predictably Becoming the bull’s eye For anger. For arrows of shame. Exiled.
Finally Just Grateful. The cloud lifting While there’s still time.
While walking along the sidewalk at Hampton Beach a few months ago, I noticed the sun (always the sun) highlighting a perhaps often overlooked narrow strip of a garden. Including a seemingly oversized leaf in the midst of a lovely flower display.
It needed a sign:
It’s not just about the sand and the surf people! Please look down here!
The only way to show proper respect for these beauties of nature was to fill the frame, sun and all.
Inspired by V.J.’s Weekly Challenge #120: Frivolous
~~~
Another Tourist Trap! my father would inevitably snarl as we approached a Country Store…my favorite destination for souvenirs as a child. My sisters, brother and I would be poised and ready to jump from the family station wagon as it pulled into a dusty parking lot. The result of a small side trip off the main road. We were all excited. He was not.
Keep in mind my family only went on a few – maybe 3 – “family vacations” when I was growing up. My mother always pushed for more, but my father was not interested in the minutia of planning and disruption of routine. To be fair, it couldn’t have been easy with 3 or 4 kids to pack up, transport and stay overnight in a new place. One time my paternal grandmother traveled with us, which severely dampened my mother’s usual enthusiasm.
But I loved a Country Store. There was one in particular in Vermont that we stopped at on the way to Expo 67 in Montreal. Penny candy. Those little wax bottles filled with colored chemicals that tasted like liquid candy. Straws filled with colored sugar. Barley rock candy on a stick. Candy buttons on strips of paper…(do you detect a theme here?). I think this was a Big Deal mostly because we weren’t allowed much candy at home. So it was okay to fill one of those small brown paper sacks with sweet treats “just this once.” A sugar high ensued for the rest of the trip. Tourist trap indeed…a kid’s little slice of heaven.
I didn’t usually have more than a few dollars to spend, but I always inspected all the shelves and displays…not just the candy bins. The “Gem Stones” or “Seashell Collections” glued to cardboard. Lucky Rabbit Foot key chains. The supposed pelt of a small animal (which I now hope was not really…real).
Nothing in those stores was essential. It was all unnecessary…and yes, frivolous, and would eventually rest in a drawer or sit on a shelf in my room. Never serving any useful purpose in the long run…at least that’s what my increasingly practical self concluded.
Except for one item discovered during a “day trip” which included a trip to a Country Store. A denim shirt. This was 1967 and denim shirts were extremely Cool (or as the term was back then: tough). I didn’t need a shirt. I couldn’t justify it in my mind as I could with the candy…I never get candy at home...because I did have enough clothes. And it was a men’s shirt. But boy did I want it with all my teenage soul. I hadn’t wanted something like this in a long time.
I don’t remember how much it cost, but even though I had my own money from babysitting I had to justify it. It was (sort of) a Vacation! One-day trips were out of the ordinary after all. And so were purchases at a Country Store. And it was clothing (even as a kid, I was sensible). My mother was most likely not thrilled I was acquiring a non-feminine men’s shirt. But it was my money (a life lesson right there).
I wore that denim shirt constantly. All the way through college. It eventually became threadbare in places…and what does one do in the ’70s with holes in one’s clothes? Patches!
Later, after I was married with a family and a house, it became my “work shirt” during home painting and staining projects. It faded with each washing. Eventually…and sadly…the fabric started to shred in my hands after being laundered.
I had to stop wearing it. But I still have it.
My frivolous purchase survives to this day…retired and safely tucked in a drawer. Perhaps to remind me that it’s okay to splurge and only with time will the value become clear.
Even if it’s from a Tourist Trap.
Most of my other fervent purchases would collect dust and be saved for decades…until the purge of downsizing began.
But not this shirt. It’s a keeper.
I did need it after all.
And it’s no wonder that the moment I first heard Mary Chapin Carpenter sing this song many years ago, I fell in love with it.
On May 21, 2020 she performed “This Shirt” as part of her “Songs From Home” series she has been posting on Instagram during the pandemic.
During this series, her sweet dog wanders through the kitchen during her singing and can be heard off camera sometimes as well.
Wouldn’t you like to expose your newer readers to some of your earlier posts that they might never have seen? Or remind your long term followers of posts that they might not remember? Each Friday I will publish a post I wrote on this exact date in a previous year. How about you? Why don’t you reach back into your own archives and highlight a post that you wrote on this very date in a previous year?
~~~
The following post was published on November 13, 2018.
For several months in 2018 I entered the weekly 99 word flash fiction challenge hosted by Charlie Mills at Carrot Ranch Literary Community. At the time I was trying my writing hand at flash fiction.
I had never considered myself a fiction writer (my real life stories had always been stranger than fiction anyway), but I thought it would be fun to try it out. And it was.
I will admit, though, that this flash fiction post was more inspired by real life than my other flash fiction entries were…
********
Flash Fiction Challenge – Mashed Potatoes and a Superpower
Flash Fiction Challenge: November 8, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that pairs mashed potatoes with a superpower. It can be in any circumstance, funny or poignant. Go where the prompt leads.
My contribution:
Mash Master
More garlic! He shouts. I’ll do it. Masher in one hand. Stick of butter in the other. And cream. Garlic and cream.
Twenty years old. Slouching. Half awake. Scruffy beard. Stained sweatshirt. Waving them aside. He scoops up twelve cloves. Minced and done. Their eyes water from the steam. Whirr of the beaters. Minutes pass. Taste! He commands. They obey. The garlic bite smoothed out by the creamy russets. Salt!
The pot of potatoes transformed. They watch awestruck. His eyes brighten. He stands up straighter. Grinning. It’s magical. You’ve done it again, they cheer.
Lens-Artists Challenge #122: The Sun will come out Tomorrow
…with everything that is happening in the world, it’s a good time to remember that, although everything seems gray, tomorrow the sun will rise again and it will illuminate everything.
~~~
I am putting this post together on a cloudy, gloomy morning – so searching the archives for hopeful signs brought by the sun is a welcome positive distraction.
At the end of an afternoon visit to a nearby apple orchard this fall, I happened to glance across the road where a field of corn was planted. A sunshine spotlight!
Hampton Falls, New Hampshire
A ray of sunshine often surprises me during a walk in the woods…showcasing what lies within…
I was awake early enough one November morning in 2016 to catch this sunrise…
Hampton Beach, NH
A sunset to remember in November 2018…
Exeter, NH
The sun…from morning till night…always a welcome sight to see.
~~~
Instead of an inspirational quote, I will close with an inspirational song.