Life Is A Movable Feast . . . And . . . Like Waiting For A Blind Date

Life Is A Movable Feast . . . And . . . Like Waiting For A Blind Date

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            One never knows, right? It’s one thing to plan. For example, today I mop the floors. Then a friend stops by and suggests, “Let’s go to Callecita for seared tuna and guava pie.” Are you going to be flexible? Or are you rigid in concrete, “I cannot go. I must mop my floors.” Really?

Only a few more days and I will cross the heat-shimmering tarmac to board the plane from Mazatlan to Dallas to Seattle to Great Falls, Montana. Originally I planned a trip for March and April, with a second visit in August and September. Surgery put the kibosh on that first trip. So I shelled out more money and changed my flights for the later dates. See, flexible, movable feast from the git-go.

            I plan. Life intervenes. Changes are details. Shortly after my plane lands in Great Falls, Karen and I will drive to Lincoln for our Class of ’63 reunion. My friend Jane had made a motel reservation for me, back in, well, back when. Then Donna asked me to stay with her. I am delighted. Donna’s home in Lincoln will be the center for our gathering. So I had Jane cancel my reservation. One small detail, indicative of changes in the wind.

                        After the reunion, I’ll dash into Havre and Harlem for quick hugs on my way to visit my daughter in Glendive. I need to be there in time for Antoinette to show her sheep at the Dawson County Fair. That’s the plan for now. The two tornados that hit their home Monday may change all the details. We may end up motel camping. Changes in the wind.

Last week we made big plans. Jessica, Dee’s older daughter, my first granddaughter, just presented us with a perfect lovable first great-granddaughter. They arrive on Amtrak about the same time I touch down in Great Falls. I’m excited. Baby barely a month old and I’ll have a chance to spoil that sweet girl absolutely rotten. That’s my job.

            Dee and I figured this was the perfect opportunity for a trip to South Dakota, a venture back-to-Jessica’s roots. We planned details like an overnight stay at a rustic hot springs hotel built during gold-mining days, a drive through the Badlands, and on into Pine Ridge to connect with some of Jess’s relatives and Dee’s friends from the years Dee  worked at Pine Ridge.

            Stay flexible. Dee got the results of her MRI and must schedule knee surgery. “Bionic” seems to run in the family. Our best laid plans are on the shelf. We may get the trip. We may have an entirely different holiday together, comparing scars. Baby Harper gets spoiled rotten, no matter what.

            I won’t stay long in Glendive; not as long as I want. Yet my stay will be longer than I had originally planned. I will head back to the Hi-Line to take care of some business and visit friends I haven’t seen in a couple years. At month’s end, I will be back in Great Falls and then on another plane to Seattle to visit my other daughter Shea, granddaughter Lexi, friends and relations in the Greater Seattle area. I might even squeeze in a voyage to Vancouver Island to see Richard and Kathy.

My plans are wiggly-squiggly. I know better than to make concrete plans. Drives some dear friends nuts. I draw up a list of possibilities. Things on my do-list tend to breed. Some drop off. Some move onto page two.

Sure as the world, when I say, today let’s do this, life will interfere. It is like waiting for a blind date. I never know who will show up. But it will be either fun or it will be “interesting”.  So what if today my blind date is a cotton-rag mop dancing me around the kitchen floor.

Sondra Ashton

HDN: Looking out my back door

July 30, 2015

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