How Bluebonnets and Boats Taught Me to Stop and Smell the “Roses”
So I’m driving home…no answer when I call Karl.
Silence, however, is never golden.
As I’m gazing at the beautiful greens of the spring foliage contrasted with the eye-piercing blue of the bluebonnets, my phone rings.
The tone says it all. I should hang up and feign poor service. Or maybe a complete lie, “I hit a buzzard.”
But no, I wince and lovingly say, “Everything okay?”
“My boat’s stuck!!” Near rage.
Now, I’m not home and he’s really loyal, so this is not a metaphor for something kinky. I am, however, truly fearful of going any deeper into this conversation, and totally wishing I’d remained in my reverie and not even attempted the first call. After all, I’m rarely completely alone these days and now that I look back on today, I could have even indulged in an outdoor lunch alone…what was I thinking? He’s a grown man. He was handling the issue.
I say (very dutifully I may add), “I’m a bit confused (honestly I just want to gaze at the wildflowers), are you okay?”
I won’t go further. Suffice it to say, the new dock bumpers seem to be holding the new boat like a wedge.
I stifle a “bwahaha” as I visualize this dilemma, and refuse to say, “Measure twice cut…” You know the rest.
My epiphany: I must become wiser. I must never call when the bluebonnets are in full bloom. I should go eat alone and never call home when surrounded by wildflowers.