Small Town Therapist on Unexpected Consequences.

 

That's Mark Twain behind us

I met up with an old friend, Anne, and we had a chance to catch up on our lives. Before I contacted her to buy some fish, I thought to myself: who knows how long our friendships with old friends will survive? Who knows how long we will survive? 

Anne and I chatted about days of yore, politics, and then of course about fish.  Anne lived in our community thirty plus years ago. At the time she was back and forth to Alaska. Hers was not an easy life. Anne became one of the few women who fished, a "fisher" in Alaska. For Anne fishing was often grueling work, she didn't love it, but did it to provide for her family. It was an unexpected job and certainly nothing she was "supposed to do" all those many years ago. But needs must and Anne did it with aplomb. I loved the salmon and still, to this day, revel in purchasing the excellent salmon she sells. 

When Anne picked me up I thought we were suppose to retrieve the 25 lbs. of frozen salmon she was selling to me right away. Not so. Anne is single and doesn't get out much,  so she wanted an adventure. I insisted she make the choice of where we'd go for our outing.  Anne chose an excellent spot: Village Books. The bookstore has three stories of  books. The bookstore also commands a lovely coffee shop on the top floor with a marvelous view of the harbor. Off we went to that wonderful, soul pleasing bookstore. Heavenly.

My husband was delayed and he decided he'd pick up the salmon, thank goodness, instead of us going miles back to get it. Now we had time to kill and seriously, what could be better than admiring, then choosing, books in a delightful bookstore. After a while, we made our selections and my husband was due to arrive, so we stepped outside to enjoy the lush, sunny fall day. That's when I realized I no longer had my sunglasses. I had patted all my pockets and came up dry. I went back inside and searched diligently each floor, retracing my steps. I even contacted the lost and found to no avail.  Sigh. My husband arrived and we soon thanked Anne for the lovely afternoon and the very fine fish and then left for the ferry to our home. 

Rodeo queen for Halloween

I've been examining that thought of unexpected consequences all week. It started by losing two pairs of sunglasses. I would like to tell you this was unusual for me but sadly it's not. Pair number one: months prior, I was waltzing down the streets of Seattle on a beautiful spring day and when I realized I was without my sunglasses. This was my favorite pair and I knew I had them with me moments before. I retraced my route--- to no such luck. Pair number two was in Village Books.

At home, several days later, I was walking down a trail near our house. Again a sparkling and sunny fall day.  Lately, I've taken to examining, photographing and identifying the hundreds of mushrooms that conveniently popped up all down the trail. This is a very pleasant, new found hobby for me. I continued on the walk on the country road, feeling ebullient. After a while as I was walking down the road, I decided to head back home. That's when I realized my sunglasses were not with me. Oh no, not again. Pair number three. So I slowly, with great intention, I scouted for the missing sunglasses, poking through the grass and the sticks and leaves near the examined mushrooms. NO joy. I came home and confessed my idiocy to my husband who kindly only smirked. 

The next day I thought, 'this is just stupid' and I went out along my previous route and this time said a little prayer that I learned when I was a young girl: "little Tony look around, what's been lost must be found." (St. Anthony, the saint of lost objects. Stop laughing.) Bent over peering intently at the ground, close to the mushrooms, this time with a stick, I felt like this is the right place! I stepped back to take an overall look and CRACK! You guessed it. I stepped on the valued, searched for sunglasses. What did I do next? I yelled--- then laughed hard. Indeed the prayer ditty worked! It's just that it did not have the desired effect. Instead, I was left with an unexpected consequence. Yes sunglasses, wearable no. Into the trash they went.

Remember  when we were little more that toddlers and you had mittens with long strings attached to the mittens? (We called them idiot mittens. Sad but true.) Well I swear that is exactly what I need. I intend to have have idiot strings on any pair of sunglasses that I own from now on.

First, deep breath, I have to purchase new sunglasses. Wish me luck.

susansmagicfeather 2024 Susan R. Grout