Waves:
One of the fascinating aspects of living in a small town is learning the language, both spoken and non-spoken. For example, when a person honks their horn at your car in a small Southern town, odds are they are just saying hello. I learned this lesson over twenty years ago, when Mark and I traveled to a small town in South Carolina.
On the main road through the center of town, with a posted speed limit of forty-five miles per hour, we got behind an elderly couple going twenty-five miles per hour at best. We were from Charlotte at the time. Mark honked his horn, hoping to encourage them to drive a little faster. The driver, the man, looked in his rear-view mirror to see who we were and turned to his wife. Even though we couldn’t hear him, we’re positive he asked her, “Do you know them?” The wife looked in the rear-view mirror at us and, shaking her head, indicated, “No.” They both took one more look to be sure, and then, on cue, not wanting to be rude, both of them waved at us on the off-chance we might indeed be someone they knew. Resigning ourselves to the twenty-five miles per hour pace, we waved back. They turned left after another ten miles, still periodically checking us out in their rear-view mirror, trying to figure out who we were.
Pens:
I have a junk drawer in the kitchen, and a black end table in the den. In theory, both the junk drawer and the top drawer of the end table are the designated spots for pens and pencils. That way, I always know where I can get a writing utensil. I have decided that these drawers are magic—the pens disappear from the drawers, never to be found again. Ever. I buy ten pack after ten pack of pens, with a few good pens thrown in from time to time, but there never is a pen in either drawer when I need one. The pencils, however, hang around indefinitely. I suspect the pencils are the culprits. How else can you explain a drawer with the same twenty pencils I put in there at the beginning, and not a single one of the 100 to 200 odd pens remaining? Someday, I am going to find the closet to which the pencils have exiled the pens. When I open it, and the flood of pens that has been accumulating since 1987 pours out on me, I will suffer serious injury, proving yet again that the pen is indeed mightier than the sword.
Have a great weekend.
I think your pens are with my missing socks.
ReplyDeleteHopefully then the socks will cushion the blow when all the pens cascade on me!
DeleteWhen I worked in an office I realized that some offices were pen repositories, places where everyone's pens congregated for eternity, and other offices were pen deserts, from which pens vanished. My office was a pen desert, not that I ever took responsibility for that; better to have a good conspiracy theory on hand to explain the phenomenon.
ReplyDeleteA good conspiracy theory is always useful!
DeleteDid it ever occur to you that possibly pens and pencils are two different stages in the lifecycle of writing utensils? Much like caterpillars morph into butterflies, pens morph into pencils. So it's not really the same old pencils--they do have a life span and sadly pass away--but new ones, transformed from the pens you put in the drawer.
ReplyDeleteHmmm - something to think about. And the idea might make a great children's book someday!
DeleteThanks, Nancy, for the laugh. I needed it. I used to get so frustrated that we could never find Scotch tape or scissors, so I went and bought six of each. Not having to search for either one has provided me with a lot of free time.
ReplyDeleteI tried that once. We have two containers specially designed for wrapping paper, one is designated for Christmas paper and the other for birthday paper, and each one is supposed to have its own scissors and tape. Guess what has disappeared every time I need to use said wrapping paper?
DeleteI was always told that when I get to heaven, St Peter will hand me a box of my missing socks. I suspect a second box with hold all my missing pens, wrapping paper scissors, Scotch and package tape, and staplers.
ReplyDeleteThen my two boxes will be really, really big! I hope he gives me a dolly to help tote them wherever they need to be stored.
DeleteLove this! Here's to finding your pens someday!
ReplyDeleteThanks!
DeleteI had something else disappearing from my junk/pen drawer, styluses (styli). I use them for my phone and other touchscreen since my dry fingers don't always register. However, that mystery was solved one day when I pulled the couch out. 17 of them had slipped between the cushions to the floor! (I do often find pens when I need one, but they're dead/dry.)
ReplyDelete