One of my favorite art venues in town recently exhibited a stellar show with some of the best fiber art I’ve seen in a long time. I found out last Friday that it was closing the next morning.
“Really??” I wrote to the friend who gave me the news. “I haven’t even been to see it yet!”
She promptly replied, “I have keys. Let’s go.”
And so I walked out the door, leaving the children to the care of the grandparents, ignoring school lessons, repressing thoughts of what I should make for dinner, and denying half-finished loads of laundry. It was a reckless, spontaneous kind of day.
And then, did I go home?
I invited my friend to join me for a cuppa in our favorite bougeois-chic coffee house. But we got side-tracked on the way because we saw this:
And if you see something like that, how can you not do a u-turn to go find a place to take photos of the three Boeing jet bodies lined up on the railroad tracks three blocks from your house? So, of course, we did.
I eventually made it back home (after sipping tea by the fire and having the last of the day-old baked goods bestowed upon us by the coffee-shop owner). The laundry got finished the next day, I made scrambled eggs and toast for dinner, everything worked out fine.
Thanks, F, for joining me in my afternoon of reckless abandonment! You bring out the best in me!