Yesterday was one of those days. You know the kind. You wake up and make your to do list, realizing it’s slightly ambitious but confident that if you just put your mind to it, you can work your way through it and get to the really important stuff, like getting ahead on writing because you’re going to be out of town later in the week.
My list started with laundry, which I started as soon as I got out of bed. I moved on watering the flowerbeds and outdoor pots, moving the hose each time I finished a lap of my walk. As soon as that was done, I hung clothes on the line and was feeling pretty pleased with myself until the phone rang. Someone who bought a copy of A DIfferent Dream for My Child at Mom’s Memorial Day Reunion wanted to stop by and buy ten more. Who could say no to a deal like that? Quickly, I cleaned up, ate breakfast and counted out the books.
The phone rang.
The same lady was one the line, spelling out names for the inscriptions on the books. Once those were ready, I hung more clothes on the line, sent in the monthly Melaleuca order, and posted the day’s blog.
The phone rang.
This time, it was a friend from South Dakota, calling to make sure we would be at the Sky Ranch Anniversary celebration later this week. Of course we had to talk for awhile, and by the time we ended the conversation, I wondered if there would be time in the day to get ahead on the writing so I can leave for the reunion Thursday as planned.
The doorbell rang.
It was the book buyer. Once the sale was complete, I raced to the grocery store and came home to unload them.
The phone rang.
The eye doctor’s secretary called to remind me of an appointment tomorrow. I thanked her and eyed my to do list. So much to do before getting to the writing stuff.
The phone rang.
It was someone from a hotel where I’d attended a college reunion some years back. Were we interested in planning another one? I said no, hung up and went outside to take most of the clothes off the line, folded them and ate a quick lunch.
The phone rang.
A friend from church had been to the daughter’s wedding website and had an enigmatic shower gift question about their superhero kitchen theme. She wouldn’t say much about her plans, and I ended the call, very curious indeed. I took the last few clothes off the line, came back inside and started writing.
The phone rang.
Someone from Des Moines inquiring about a speaking engagement, but it didn’t work out. I went back to writing, but my mind kept wandering to the Bryant School Open House later in the day. Bryant was my kids’ elementary school, and my Camelot for so many years. It’s closing at the end of this school year, and I’m going back for one last visit before the doors are locked forever.
I didn’t really have time, not with that unfinished to do list.
But the sounds of Bryant School rang in my ears – happy voices of children playing outside, chanting multiplication facts, and singing Christmas carols, my former co-workers laughing in the teachers’ lounge, their tears when tragedies struck, their encouragement when life grew hard, and their good-byes at the end of each school year.
I didn’t really have the time to go, but I went anyway. The to do list could wait. Saying good-bye for the last time could not.
Good-bye, Camelot. Good-bye.
