It’s not how much time do you have, it’s how fast can you score, the ESPN football lesson for today. Play well for a lifetime and work hard. Zero to sixty in…no time flat.
Herons have evaporated. Snow flocks to the trees, creating a brand new architecture in thin air, supported by wooden struts. An accumulation curves on the railing at red bridge, like an engine belt not quite taut, like molten glass, but not as floppy as the doughy edge of pizza-in-the-making, that one part that hangs over the hand of a pizza maker while shaping the crust. You might see it when you walk into a shop and they’re busy making it.
A brief Redner’s grocery run, for four cans of cat food and a bag of licorice. Four fresh-faced Girl Scouts, with adult female supervision, sit behind a table set up in the vestibule of the store. Arrest me. It is Girl Scout Cookie Time.
“Which kind is the best?” I ask.
The resounding reply: “Caramel deLites!”
“If you like coconut,” says one qualifying adult. The features and benefits of Thin Mints kept in the freezer tempt me. Will they keep you thin?
The shyest girl says she likes shortbread. After moments of deliberation – “They are all good!” – I decide. The banker changes my five dollar bill into a dollar and fifty-cents. The girl with the order sheet tallies a stroke in the shortbread column. I used to be a Girl Scout. Now I am prepared.
View from the sidewalk outside: the once upon a child sign in white, pink and blue with snow presides over an empty store. Overheard cellular: You just woke up?
The trash can outside the store is adrift with stuff, overflowing in a neat kind of way.
When I get home WYSIWYG wants in. He promptly plops down in the sunshine. He is a good pet. I pet him. One of the kittens has toyed with a vintage plastic candle ring made of blue, pink and white morning glories; the circle is open. I find love on the dining room rug.