Cherry Cobbler

Just the words Cherry Cobbler bring to mind smells of delicious cherries, warm and crunchy topping, thoughts of home. How lucky for me that my day is not filled with thoughts of a Japanese nuclear melt down, dangerous water levels in tap water and food we can’t eat because of radiation. Here in Spokane we’re toasty warm, it’s raining outside, which I so dearly love, the paper should be sitting out in my driveway, I’ve had my first cup of coffee, have on warm socks. Really, it doesn’t take too much to make my life feel complete. On the other hand, it also doesn’t take too much to unravel it, either. But for today my agenda is set with ‘nesting’ type things – cherry cobbler, lots of laundry to be done, a novel to finish outlining, quick trip to the grocery store, and two March Madness basketball games to either watch or keep up with. Come to think of it, there’s three basketball games I’d like to watch – maybe even four. It’s hard to be lazy yourself when watching college basketball players so focused on their games, making plays that don’t exist unless they make them happen. It’s a good way for all of us to live our lives. Living with a purpose. That’s it. Every single day.

My daughter tells me that my little grandson just completed his first tryke-a-thon at his pre-school down in Georgia as a fund raiser for St. Jude’s. I can see this being something he’ll do all his life, and even though training wheels were on his bike, I think he’s going to be a terror on wheels when he’s older. She said he was the first one on the course (set up in the pre-school parking lot) and almost the last one off, and looking other kids in the eye as he passed them. It occured to me that perhaps the other children, also enjoying themselves, were busy not getting hit and they were the ones doing the looking in the eye. It’s all so much fun for them at four years of age. I think it’s called passion. And these bike riders will grow up to be basket ball players, or maybe writers, or business owners or hoop dance instructors and who knows what. And later they’ll be grandparents like me.

Years ago someone mentioned to me ‘how our lives play out’ and I didnt really understand what she meant. Now I do. It’s simply that – how our lives play out. We start out so young, with a very straight road ahead of us if we’re lucky, stay on the straight and narrow path for a long time, then most of us make some sort of a mess of it all by the time we’re finished marrying, having kids, retiring. It’s like those twisty roads I’ve driven down south … country roads, no interstates to get you where you’re going quickly … just roads that may or may not be going where you want to go. It all just simply plays out. Eventually you get to where you’re going, or you arrive some place. And if you’re lucky, at the end of the day you’ll be able to smile at the birds nibbling at the feeder in your back yard, and have a big serving of warm Cherry Cobbler with somebody you love. This is how I want my life to play out. No mansions. No mega-millionaire. Just cherry cobbler with somebody I love.

What I understand now that I didn’t believe a few yers ago is that even this takes work, clear planning and living with purpose! I don’t think these things happen without an agenda. Then again, I could be wrong. But that’s a thought for another day.

About beeconcise

A Southern writer living in the Pacific Northwest.
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