On Tuesday we experienced a beautiful day of sunshine. Buddy and I went on our two mile stroll down and then up Blueberry Hill. It really felt as if spring had sprung. And then on Wednesday we awakened to a sunrise that lasted but minutes before a snow squall swallowed it whole.
Soon the squall became something closer to a winter storm, and by one thirty in the afternoon, there were four or five inches of very wet snow on the ground. I needed to get groceries, and it was a struggle to even get the car up our steep driveway. What should have been a twenty five minute trip was forty five. By the time I pulled into the parking lot of the market, it was raining. By four p.m., the sun was shining and all that snow was beginning to melt. Crazy making day.
Thursday we awakened to more sunshine. After dropping Pete at the bus stop I pulled into the little store where I buy the newspaper. As I walked up to the door I stepped on a patch of black ice and in a flash, I was on my back.
Ouch. Nothing more serious than a bruised bum, but I’m getting a little old for this falling down stuff.
And no, I didn’t ask where I was; I just got up quick(ly).
It was a warm, wild, gusty day on Friday and Buddy and I took another two mile walk. That’s six miles this week; we are finally getting back to our pre-winter quota. By the late afternoon, the wind had picked up even more. Suddenly the air was filled with cries, and I looked out the window to see a huge flock of white birds with back tipped wings passing overhead. I yelled for Peter to come and I realized these were snow geese. Many more followed, members of a large flock that had likely been blown off their migratory path by the unrelenting wind.
So, birds may not stumble but obviously they too can get off course.
Saturday morning Peter and I arose early as he was to register for the exam at the Academy for Science and Design by 8:30 that morning. And wouldn’t you know it; my mapquest directions again failed to correlate with reality (and/or available road signs). Once I realized I had missed our turnoff and that we were lost and would be late, I began to cry. Just a little. Dear, sweet Pete, who was already stressed by the prospect of a three hour exam, was the one who stayed calm and assured me that he was certain they would let him take the test even should we be late. What a kid.
So I pulled off the highway and got some directions as to where the missed exit was. We were only ten minutes late.
Sometimes we think we’ve got everything under control only to find out that’s not the case. If we fall, we get up again. If we are lost, we somehow find our way. It’s all about survival.
life and breath: outliving lung cancer 