Good day! I’ve missed you at this place but loved going off to your places when you were home, visiting, learning, and engaging. And for those that are my readers without blogs, I appreciate your readership and you’ve been in my prayers and thoughts during this time.
I wasn’t planning on taking an official break from blogging, and to this day can only say my summer absence was more due to an unrest within me that ironically paralleled with a call to be still, then an intentional break from writing.
How can I land a solid word, a concrete thought onto a piece of writing when the rock beneath me is uneven and slippery? And when I try, the words either do not land or blur in the dew, or drip down into the river.
A season to be still. But, oh, I struggle finding this new balance, wanting to run forward thinking I could navigate this myself.
There was a day a few weeks ago I was in the Foothills of Alberta, navigating through the town of Okotoks, and toward a place called Turner Valley. An impromptu drive I hadn’t wagered on, I was not prepared with my camera, so settled using my Iphone to capture a few scenes.
Prompted by a sign on the highway announcing ‘Show Home OPEN,’ I eagerly turned right onto an inclining road embraced by emerald grass fields, and then bending into a cul de sac encircled by about 15 homes. I love show homes and home stores. It’s where I tend to refresh when the white walls of my office leave my gasping for inspiration, like a thirsty hiker needing quenching.
I found a parking space around the marigold, junipers, and petunia filled island in the center. But wondered, why are there so many vehicles, on this mid-week evening? Many cars and trucks, no older than a year, lined the curbs.
Three nice people greeted me, the entrance of the show home looking like all regular show home entrances; through the garage, walls spotted with maps of interior designs, and a desk on the concrete floor. Do I not need to take my shoes off? I inquired, seeing the mat empty. No, no, they said almost in union. You can keep your shoes on.
I wondered at that as my experience has always been shoes off, but I obeyed and entered into the chatter.
Yes the chatter.
People, many people, male and female, all over 40 I’d say, dressed in collared shirts, summer skirts, loafers and sandals, greeted me with smiles, sometimes a lifting of their white wine filled glasses, or with eyes and a nod as they nibbled on cheese, crackers, and other such appetizers.
It wasn’t quite what I expected from following the sign to the show home.
I navigated through the people, smiling my hellos, into the kitchen where a woman in a white blouse, and black pants and cap, lifted a pan of seared shrimp from the built-in oven and placed it on the marble topped island. Glimpsing outside patio doors, I saw two women engaged in what seemed to be a deep conversation, standing close on interlinking patio bricks dotted with terracotta pots of ivy.
I rounded the corner and took a glance into the master bedroom noticing the en-suite bathroom looks like it’s being used, usually a no-no in a showroom.
Okay, this is definitely off! I think. So back in the kitchen, smell of savory shrimp licking my nose, I interrupt two gentlemen that appear to be friendly. Is this the opening of the show home? I ask.
Ah no, replies the older one of the two. Didn’t you hear? Glen’s moving back to Oklahoma! This is his going away party.
I raise my eyebrows, my mouth moving from a close lipped smile into an Oh. Oh, wow, I didn’t know! Well wishes for Glen!
A few moments later, in my car, I laugh. I laugh so hard I have to grope in the glove box for kleenex to wipe my tears.
I just crashed a going away party. Now, that is a first, an adventure I had not taken thus yet! And I remember when first hearing the news of Glen, how I hesitated before leaving, wondering if I should mingle a bit and have a taste of that scrumptious smelling shrimp.
But I did decide to leave, resolving that it really isn’t my party to be at.
And I wonder, in life how often do a linger where I am not to? When all the signs seem right, so I take a step into that hobby, that study, or that business idea. But in that first step something seems off, when I can’t take my shoes off so to speak, but I still take that next step and end up into the party. And then realize after wandering around a bit, that it isn’t my party to be at. Yet I still hold on to what I think I know. I linger. I feed on what is there although it isn’t food meant for me.
I hit the highway, back on the road, glad I did not stay longer at that party not meant for me, seeing now I still have hours before sunset to explore a rainbow of new adventures.
What summer adventures have you had? Have you ever lingered at a ‘party’ too long?