For all my life, my parents' phone number was the same. Through the #evolution from a rotary phone to a touchtone phone with its melody & on to cordless phones, that landline number was the same. I can hum the tune of those 10 numbers. But in December my dad moved to be closer to one of my siblings & me. The old house was sold, & the landline was disconnected.
Sometimes I dial it, though, just to hear the familiar tune. So far it hasn't been reassigned.
At the birthday party, the uncle and cousins snapped photos while the mother and her friends clustered round the teenaged birthday girl, posing offering her foil-wrapped chocolates.
Later the music was turned up, and the two youngest kids took turns leading the guests in dances. Then the birthday girl led a dance, swaying her hips, making a shooing gesture with her hands.
Shoo, shoo, don't bother me, suitors. Shoo, shoo, I don't have time for you.
In the supermarket, a boy poses with a model car from the toy aisle pressed to his #chest, big smile on his face. His dad, also smiling, snaps a photo. Then the boy sticks the car back on the shelf at the tail end of the aisle, the dad pushes the shopping cart on past the meat and poultry, and the boy follows along.
How mysterious and kind of wonderful, I think to myself: that the kid apparently just wanted a picture with the car and not the car itself.
"If you come to a #fork in the road, take it," Yogi Berra said, and my family has followed that advice... though as it turns out, what we find in the road more often has been spoons.
Here's a sample of our roadside cutlery.
Asakiyume
Peculiar Julia