driving around town on a sunday errand expedition, i spotted, out of the corner of my eye, a painted VW bus parked in the driveway of a house down a side street.
i made a mental note to swing by it on my way back home.
things like that bring me smiles, so of course i remembered to do it.
the bus artistically communicated love and joy and that was enough to make me want to say "oh SOME DAY i will have my own hand painted VW bus"...but the HOUSE that the driveway holding the VW bus led to was another sight in itself.
there it was. a yellow home with white trim and a large front porch that stretched across the entire front of the structure. a yellow house with white trim! a front porch!
and it didn't stop there.
a green, grassy yard with two giant trees providing more than enough shade for those perfect afternoon picnics in the front.
and what was that attached to one of the sturdy limbs of the giant tree?
a tire swing you say?
a tire swing!
like the one you have been talking about having in your yard for months now?
the yard was overgrown, lush, full.
from the house to the tire swing was a well-worn path in the grass.
it was all WELL lived in...but loved.
i was tempted to knock on the door and see just who in there was "living my dream life" , as my sister so appropo said to me today while relaying the experience to her.
then later that night i was hustling about the kitchen while the chilis played outside...trying to scrounge up something for dinner.
spaghetti, that works!
i have it all right here.
and just as i was feeling relieved for having everything i needed to make spaghetti...i dropped the entire jar of sauce on the floor.
the glass jar.
on the floor.
and shards of glass flew into my big toe.
some day, i will have enough tomatoes in my yard to go pluck some for home-made pasta sauce and i won't have to worry about buying the sauce in big glass jars that fall on the floor and break into tiny pieces that fly into my big toe.
because that hurts.
and it sucks to clean up.
SOME day, i just might find myself living in a place where all four seasons show up knocking on our door.
a place where the lessons we learn through our nature-based books and resources hold incredible relevance because, heck, it is all right outside our front door (the front door to the yellow house with the white trim).
we don't have to "imagine" what it would be like to live where the leaves turn yellow and red and brown because we can see it with our own eyes and we can smell the musky rich scent of fall in the air.
we'll live there.
the diapers will get washed...some day.
i will take a shower...some day.
as my new yoga teacher might say,
some day never.