What’s in your bag?
When I opened my purse to pull out my wallet to pay for dinner tonight, I realized that I’ve been carrying around several unnecessary items for the past few days. Although the current contents of my purse aren’t exactly typical, it seemed like a good time to contribute to the “What’s in your bag?” Flickr pool.
(I’ve also posted the photo on Flickr… with 21 notes.)
Now that I’ve dumped everything out of my purse and wallet, I’ll put most of it back in… with the exception of the pitch pipe and some extraneous papers, photos, and spoons.
What’s in my bag:
* old wallet with a carabiner in case I want to carry just my wallet and keys
* driver’s license, credit card, ATM card, library card, and employee ID card
* prayer card I picked up on Sunday
* 37 dollars
* not one, but two spoons
* 2008 planner
* several unused tissues, presumably from the last time I had a cold
* an old picture of my nephew who will turn four in a few months
* mirror
* pitch pipe (I led acappella hymns at church on Sunday; someday I’ll graduate to a tuning fork)
* pen (a freebie, of course)
* teeny tiny container of lip balm
* lipstick
* receipt and wallet-sized menu from clementine cafe, where I ate dinner tonight
* new parking sticker that I need to attach to my back window
* list of phone numbers I might need (no cell phone for me!)
* extra disposable contact lens
* three pictures of childhood birthday celebrations I took to a recent show-and-tell
* 16 cents
* jump drive
What’s in YOUR bag?
back to school
The girl and her backpack were sitting at the corner along the curb. It wasn’t even seven o’clock yet.
“Good morning!” I greeted her as I approached.
The blonde girl looked up from the book she was reading. “Good morning!”
“Your school bus must come early…”
She giggled. “I’m just excited.”
“I bet you are! Have fun!” What a delightful girl.
As I rounded the corner a couple blocks later, I passed a gaggle of five kids and four parents exchanging a few hugs as a big yellow bus pulled into view. Happy first day of school, Harrisonburg City.
catching up with my house number
A 50th wedding anniversary. Buying a house. Childhood birthdays. Driving to a family reunion in Alaska. A daughter’s wedding. Earning a degree. A two-week honeymoon in England.
After a delicious meal of haystacks and ice cream, we sat around the table this afternoon telling stories and sharing photos from these memorable celebrations in our lives. The common thread in our broader life stories is that we are all members of the Living Stones small group at our church. We meet every other week for a meal and other varied activities, and today we all told stories about celebrations.
My age caught up with my house number today, so since it was already a day of celebration for me, it wasn’t hard for me to decide what to share. I provided ice cream with peaches for dessert, passed around a few pictures of childhood birthday celebrations, and described some of the birthday traditions I enjoyed 20 years ago. Birthdays were such happy times.
Birthdays are still happy times for me — they’re a perfect excuse to invite friends over for ice cream! My party was last night, so today was a bit more low-key, but I was very glad for the chance to just relax a bit between two very busy weeks.
Some birthday highlights:
* seeing two young white-tailed deer while out for an early morning walk
* the beautiful yellow and white bouquet from Krystal & Jason
* hearing Clark’s bass voice on the last note of “Happy Birthday”
* ice cream with fresh peaches
* a super-cute card from my parents
* taking a nap, watching a movie, and playing piano
* phone conversations with both of my sisters
* the plethora of Happy Birthday posts on my Facebook wall
apostrophe abuse
This morning before work, I stopped by the Farmers’ Market and bought six ears of corn and a half bushel of peaches. Actually, according to the sign, they were PEACHE’S.
It was one of those signs that was just begging to be photographed, posted on the internet, and mocked. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my camera with me, nor was there a subtle way to snap a picture. In spite of the apostrophe abuse, the fruit was delicious. I don’t know who Peache is, but I’m glad she’s a farmer, not an English teache’r.
two minutes, two calls
Tuesday, 8:46 p.m.
The phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is Brian home?”
“Brian no longer lives here.”
“Oh. OK, thank you.”
-click-
Brian and Kelly rented my house from me for three years and kept my phone number while they lived here. The caller sounded like she might be a personal friend of his who somehow hadn’t gotten the memo that they moved to Pennsylvania last summer.
Tuesday, 8:47 p.m.
The phone rings. I answer.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is Kelly home?”
“Kelly no longer lives here.”
“Oh. OK, thank you.”
“Are you the same person who just called a minute ago?”
[pause]
“I am… I’m sorry. I’m calling on behalf of the Barack Obama campaign, and I’m using two different lists, so I didn’t realize I had dialed the same number twice. Sorry about that.”
“No problem. I was just curious. Have a good night!”
“Bye!”
-click-
Wait! What kind of campaign strategy is that? Does she not want ME to vote for Obama?
deer in the headlights
Did you wake up early enough yesterday to enjoy the fog? The mornings have been unusually cool recently, and the fog made Saturday morning especially beautiful. As I was walking my typical four-mile loop, I was surprised to see a deer emerge from between two houses and walk out into the middle of the road ahead of me. Moments later, a pair of headlights became visible through the fog. I imagine that the driver was more surprised than the deer was.
On this morning’s walk, I enjoyed seeing both the silvery-white moon and the blazing orange sun, but I paid even more attention to something much more mundane: front doors. If you’ve been to my house during the past year, you know that my front door looks pretty ghetto. Yesterday I finally ordered a beautiful new storm door, and this morning I couldn’t help but notice everyone else’s storm doors as I walked past. Four miles of doors… and not one of them looked exactly like mine.
a generic face… or universal features?
“Do you have a sister?” he asked, as I pulled my credit card from my wallet.
“Nope!”
I swiped my Visa through the card reader. Wait — what had I just said?! In my distraction, I had inadvertently lied to the guy! “Well, I do… but they don’t live around here.”
He looked at me sideways, so I continued.
“Unless you’ve gone to Georgia or Ohio recently, you haven’t run into them.” He smiled and said he hadn’t. I was on my way home from a picnic that got rained out and had stopped at the grocery store for a few items. The kid bagging my groceries was a friendly teenager, and we had talked and joked a bit when he bagged my groceries last week. The store wasn’t busy tonight, so another equally likeable teenage male employee was hanging around and listening to our conversation.
“Why? Do I look like someone you know?” I asked the boy bagging my groceries.
“Yeah, you look like the sister of one of my teachers.”
With an expression of “aha!” on my face, I suddenly turned and pointed at the other boy who was standing nearby. His facial expression matched mine. We had just had a similar conversation a few weeks ago! The boys compared notes and concluded that they weren’t thinking of the same person. The bagger thought I looked like the sister of one of his high school teachers (he has actually seen this sister), and the other boy had thought I was a teacher at the local middle school. Who knows? Maybe the teachers are sisters… but they’re not MY sisters.
This happens to me all the time. All The Time. Well, not every day, but probably every few months… which seems like a lot to me! Either someone tells me I resemble someone else they know, or a total stranger thinks they actually know me.
A couple years ago I was talking about this with some college students, and I jokingly concluded that I guess I just have a generic face. J’aime, a beautiful girl from Australia, offered a more flattering description, suggesting that I have “universal features.” Sounds lovely, doesn’t it? It would sound even more lovely if it were remotely true. Then again, maybe I’m the only one who’s oblivious to the fact that the earth is swarming with beautiful women who look just like me. 
Ha!
Bye Bye Black Bear
According to The Valley Observer, a small black bear was captured this evening just a few blocks from my house.
A bear?! I live DOWNTOWN, folks…
dear God, please send me a pony
We’ve probably all read those cute children’s prayers that go something like this:
Dear God, my brother told me about being born but it doesn’t sound right. They’re just kidding, aren’t they? -Marsha
Dear God, did you mean for the giraffe to look like that or was it an accident? -Norma
Dear God, we read Thomas Edison made light. But in Sunday school they said You did it. So I bet he stoled your idea. Sincerely, Donna
And of course there’s always one about a pony:
Dear God, please send me a pony. I never asked for anything before, You can look it up. -Bruce
I’ve never understood this, but ponies seem to be one of the classic things that children supposedly ask for. Apparently, neither God nor Santa came through on one child’s request, so the kid’s mom headed to Freecycle. Actually, the woman didn’t say it was for her kids. Maybe she’s just a grown-up kid who has never lost hope.
Freecycle is a web-based network of people who exchange items that might otherwise be thrown away or dropped off at a thrift store. Last week someone posted a message to our local group with the subject “Wanted: Large Pony.” No dinky ponies, please.
The message began: “I know it is a long shot, but there are tons of unused ponies that are hanging out in fields eating up money.” Unused ponies? What exactly do most people “use” ponies for? Since there are “tons” of these creatures hanging around, I hope this woman has an opportunity to figure that out. Meanwhile, I’m having fun picturing massive herds of enormous ponies standing in a field, munching on Ben Franklins…
what I’ve been wanting to tell you about food
A friend of mine (who will soon be a friend-with-a-blog!) emailed me the other day and said that she’s sort of sad that NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) is over, because she enjoyed reading my blog. Oops. I didn’t intend to cease ALL blogging as soon as July ended… it’s just that I haven’t been able to think of anything to write about except food! After posting about food for 31 days in a row, I thought I should post about something else, but I’ve developed a habit, I guess.
On Friday I wanted to tell you that I have no idea how much I spend on food each month, so I’ve decided to start keeping track. During the month of August, I’m going to make a list of every food item I buy, where and when I bought it, and the price. I’m mostly interested in observing my food purchasing habits for now, and then later I’ll see whether I ought to make changes.
On Friday I wanted to tell you that I am finally a proud owner of the Simply in Season cookbook. I’ve tried one recipe already, and I’m eager to try some more.
On Friday I wanted to tell you that the flavor of the week at Kline’s Dairy Bar on Wolfe Street is caramel & pralines. Does anyone know if this is a new addition to their flavor lineup? I had never had it there before, but it was as delicious as you could imagine.
On Saturday I wanted to tell you about the beautiful little light purple eggplant I bought from my friend Radell’s stand at the Harrisonburg Farmers’ Market. I still think cooked eggplant looks absolutely terrible, which is exactly why I hadn’t eaten eggplant in many, many years.
On Saturday I wanted to tell you about the delicious pork I enjoyed at our church campout. The pork roast is an annual tradition, as is the auctioning off of the leftover pork after the talent show. Half of a pork tenderloin is now in my freezer. The word “loin” always reminds me of a family friend who had a combination of physical, emotional, and mental challenges in life. Wayne once referred to a certain grocery store as “Food Loin,” so our family occasionally calls it that just for kicks.
On Sunday I wanted to tell you how bummed I was that I’ve given up eating chocolate for two weeks. I think all but two desserts at the church picnic featured chocolate, and when I went to find a non-chocolate dessert, my friend Mary was standing next to one of the tables telling everyone that Joan’s chocolate dessert was amazing.
On Monday I wanted to tell you that the fourth annual Eat Local Challenge has been announced. Participants will commit to eating only locally grown foods for the entire month of October, which will be a bit more challenging than it would be in, say, August. Some people declare exceptions for things like coffee, and as a non-coffee drinker, I think that’s ludicrous.
Finally, today I simply wanted to tell you about the weird mutant onion I discovered as I was chopping some veggies this evening. It had a second layer of brownish-orange skin underneath the two outermost white layers of onion. Very strange.
Meanwhile, my mouth is watering just thinking about the delicious fresh blueberries, peaches, cucumbers, and tomatoes I ate today. I love summer.
