My walk-in closet is spacious enough to tuck and hide objects under and behind my hanging clothes. Tall enough to toss suitcases, bags of puppets, boxes for mailings, and pillows, more pillows than any two people need! It also has room for a chair, a laundry basket, and wrapping paper neatly held in a tall, clean trash plastic bucket.
On Friday I bent down on all fours to crawl around and look for a doggie toy that seemed to be missing. That's when I observed the laundry basket. Curious about its contents I picked out a pair of jeans, a long sleeve shirt, a turtleneck winter top, a pair of pajamas, quite a few underparts, and a few towels.
There's nothing impressive about that observation except for the fact that I wash dirty clothes on Monday. This week I washed sheets. The End.
Whatever distraction came my way I did not wash clothes. So, what!
My observation delivered this deduction. A full week and a half had passed without me washing dirty clothes and I still didn't have enough dirty clothes to merit washing. What was wrong with this picture? In the summer I often wash my clothes at least twice a week and sometimes shower twice a day rather than twice a week, as I do in the winter.
Off my hands and knees by now, I sat down in the painted wooden chair to ponder this grand insightful moment. Ha. The fact is that I must be wearing the same warm clothes day after day in the winter. When I am not out walking, visiting neighbors, playing golf, digging in my garden, or eating lunch with friends I don't dirty my clothes, and besides jeans are always softer the longer I wear them. Apparently, I don't work up a sweat in the winter. I no longer wear my gym clothes or my yoga clothes. I live in pajamas by night and a pair of jeans with warm tops by day.Life is really quite simple in the winter.
I may learn to love and respect winter for its rather mundane lifestyle.
My second major observation came this morning while visiting the public library. I set my bag of papers and books, billfold, cell phone, lipstick, pencils and pens, and empty vitamin bottles (to be replaced on my next errand to the health food store) on the table. Instantly the bag fell open and scattered the contents. To my embarrassment the pill bottles raced for the front door, my papers slid in different directions, my books did flips in the air, a piece of candy rolled under a book cart, loose change disappeared and pencils and pens scattered to the wind.
In a jiffy I found myself crawling on the tile floor frantically picking up the nearby books, billfold, papers, but the rolling pill bottles and items presented a new problem. Do I keep crawling across the floor or get up ladylike and walk over casually to pick them up?
As I began to pull my knees in so I could gather myself and stand, I glanced around knee high to my surroundings. There I observed persons walking all around: one with a limp, one with stiff leg, one person barefoot in sandals, a man with worn and dirty shoes, a woman in a dress below her knees and a pair of kick-ass boots, and two little girls in shinny tiny boots, colorful tights, tiny skirts, and frilly sweaters giggling, jumping and running in all directions. Before I could pull my stiff hips and tight hamstrings to a standing positions all items had been picked up and returned to the table.
I stood myself up with a thank you smile on my face and a good laugh out loud with everyone's help. I sat down in a hard cold plastic chair to analyze what I had observed. Like a stroke of a magic wand, people of all ages came together to help me with something of no consequences in life's journey, except to show little acts of kindness.
No act of kindness
No matter how small is ever wasted. (Aesop)
P.S. To Marilyn Smith and Sue Donnelly, I can never match your amazing abilities to observe life and people, but I can learn from you. Please keep sharing your observations of life with all of us on social media.