It’s “Hey Rene J” Today!

The song on the car radio as I pulled into the garage last night was Tom Petty’s, “Learning to Fly.” The song on the radio as I got in the car this morning for my road trip was Tom Petty’s, “Learning to Fly.” Okay. Nice little coincidence.

I enjoyed today’s road trip with my Sirius radio, switching stations frequently to catch up on tunes. The best part was listening to the Goo Goo Dolls share their playlist, which coincided with many of my own favorites. Perhaps I could hang out with them one day? We like the same music?

As I pull into my mom’s garage, the song the Goo Goos share from their library of music love is Tom Petty’s, “Learning to Fly.” It’s great when someone puts into words what you are feeling, and then takes it a step further with music. And when the cosmos pounds it into your head with a steady beat, it’s phantasmagoric.

I’m anxious to see what pops up when next I “Escape.”

Do you like these ribs better than the ones we normally prepare? How about this asparagus? Was it better grilled this way or the way we do it on the stove? Did you like the biscuits? What kind of homemade jam would you like on them?

These questions were absolutely perplexing me at dinner this evening. My dear husband had prepared a wonderful banquet, my son provided cheerful banter. I was slightly exhausted from a nine-hour day of true delight. (And I really mean that – not being snarky on this one! I love it when it’s this busy and fun!) However, I was exhausted. All I could really think of was my one travel habit.

“Always take the apple the hotel offers at the front desk.”

There are some days when every intersection will provide you with a red light, or every traffic light will turn red upon approach. The line you choose at the grocery will be the longest, and will have a price check ahead of you. Your printer will not respond, and the four assignments you need it to spit out will be in the queue, biding their time, promising to print a week later when the wind blows, or a new phase of the moon begins.

And then, as you are learning an entirely new system of payment for which you missed the training meeting, a cute little second-grader will just stand there smiling at you, waiting for you to get it right. She doesn’t mind that you have to cancel the transaction a few times before you actually think you might understand what the heck you are doing. She listens to you read the directions and search for the proper keys. She can wait for that red light to turn! She takes the price check in stride!

“It takes a long time to become young.” Picasso

There is a cool book at Scholastic called “The Word Collector,” about a young boy named Jerome. He is fascinated with words and collects them, writing them on slips of paper. So I talked to the kids about different kinds of collections today. Then I started thinking about my collections of yore.

Tea sets were a happening one years ago, along with teapots. Stamps – since the age of ten – and still going! Dictionaries. I love the old ones that weigh ten pounds and have great names. “Webster’s Imperial English Dictionary.” Who uses “imperial” in everyday speech anymore? Such a cool word. Santas – something my sister thought we needed to collect. Globes – I like the ones where the background is black. Pumpkins – seems to be an accidental collection right now – yet I am drawn to them, especially the ones which are different colors.

Collections are amusing if you enjoy them, and a nuisance if they become an obsession, which in turn can become a burden to your offspring. Therefore, I am endeavoring to collect only words, which take up a small amount of space on a paper, and experiences, which use the spaces surrounding me. (And maybe a cool pumpkin or dictionary if I find one.)

I kept opening the refrigerator, hoping the dill pickles looked more appealing each time. That’s about all that is left in there after the men in the family packed up their gear and the refrigerator and went camping for the weekend. They did leave me yogurt, so I opted for yogurt, if that’s even possible to opt for something when you really have no choice? I next went to prepare for the day.

I kept walking into the closet trying to choose something befitting the fickle fall weather upon us. I’m not sure which space saw more of me – the inside of the refrigerator or the closet? I just couldn’t make a decision, even with the latest weather forecast in my sphere of critical thinking.

The only clear decision I made was that I had to go the grocery store. Not a wise move on game day, which immediately dawned on me as I entered our fine grocery. I had a list, but I kept seeing what others were putting in their carts and I got sidetracked yet again.

The good news? We are going to have dinner tonight.

It takes a specially engineered name badge to assist in the warrior work of a Scholastic Book Fairs employee. That, and a boatload of patience when wrangling first graders! Today I got to suit up and head out to share my love of reading with young ones.

Every now and then I forget how little those kids are, but my back and knees remember. I find myself crawling on the floor helping children write the titles of books they like. I’m bending over to hear the quiet ones. Standing on the concrete floors starts to weary my legs. My memory is tested as I replace the misplaced books from our twenty minutes of glory with each class. At the end of the day, I stumble to the car and look forward to dinner and a sofa. And what do I think?

Thank you, teachers, past and present!

Which do you remember? I remember my tenth, because it was the first time I got to invite a friend to a party. My sister got to invite a friend, also. This tradition of sharing everything was inaugurated early on. When it was my birthday, my sister got the same gift. When it was hers three months later, I got the same gift! So having a party just for me obviously entailed a friend for her. And….I still felt special.

Where is this leading? Today is my Mom’s birthday, and I remember the day we celebrated her turning 30. I can place myself in my aunt and uncles’ home. I remember where I was in the kitchen singing, “Happy Birthday to you!” (By the oven.) I was happy that day. My mom was special. She was old. I was her daughter so that made me special, obviously! Almost fifty years later I have that vivid memory.

Thanks, Mom!

In an attempt to keep up our 15,000 steps-a-day program, we leashed the dog and walked down the driveway for a stroll. We made it twenty feet when the neighbor’s dogs ran into the street.

We really didn’t need two extra canines tagging along, so we walked back up the driveway and returned them, adding a full 257 steps to our tally. However, (remember, there usually is one!) we had a chance to reacquaint ourselves with the neighbors and now have a dinner date with them.

Following our taxing walk, I prepared to attend my Biblical School class after missing the first three of the year. To thank my friends who audiotaped the sessions, I gave them a prayer card from one of the 40-some churches visited in Rome. This particular card featured an eight-foot wooden crucifix which did not burn when the first church did. The crucifix is taken from the church and venerated at St. Peter’s Basilica during a Jubilee year. Guess what tonight’s lesson entailed? Jesus fulfilling the Old Testament Jubilee.

I think I was supposed to bring that prayer card 5,567 miles just to give it to my friends tonight. And we were supposed to walk 257 steps just to get together with our neighbors. Excellent outcomes.

You know you’ve missed some great news when the headlines are “Bear sought foreign help” and “Tabasco sales to be banned for those under 21”. What happened? Did we start terrorizing wildlife and did our Tabasco become too hot to handle?

Obviously, I’m a little bleary-eyed as I try to find the right voltage converter to adapt to life back in the quiet and spaciousness of Colorado. I’m not sure what I missed while away, other than family and friends, of course. And the dog. Of course.

I did not miss the squirrels, who are once again taunting me. (We have now attributed hail damage to them trying to chew their way into our house!) I really didn’t miss my closet. I managed to live with a sparseness that was refreshing. I did not miss hearing the national news. I didn’t miss driving, which I really enjoy. I didn’t even miss playing the piano at church – but rather relished the break from commitments.

What did I miss? My pillow! Who knew? That’s never mattered before. Apparently I missed a great party, to which my sticky floors will attest. That’s about it. It truly is the people and the time spent with them that matter the most. And a pillow.

Electrical conversion is just a matter of finding the right adaptor – or voltage converter for the new system you are navigating. I was thinking that we all go through that “adaptor thing” when we meet new people, finding the right way to communicate and understand each other. It’s really quite simple when you ask for help, laugh at your mistakes, and smile.

What a copacetic ending to a brilliant adventure.