Where is...?

After what has seemed like months, I have unpacked my ever-rotating suitcase.  Laundry is folded and put away.  My blog is starting to appear in my brain and ideas gently unfolding. 

There are problems.  They all start with “Where is/are….?”

My toothbrush and whitening tartar reducing toothpaste?  Can’t find them.

Aquage™ shampoo and contioner?  Dang—those things are expensive!

Those trinkets and gifts for our family?  WHERE did I put them?

The list is much longer and more pathetic.  No reason to embarrass myself.

Basically, it all reduces to the simple facts:  Either they are lost, or I will find them the next time we travel.

Source: mzacha

That which was lost...

My husband John is a brilliant man, one of those rocket-scientist types.  We talk about asteroids and volcanoes.  He will watch a DVD on math and calculus for fun.

But, God love him, he has that selective memory many smart men have.  They know about physics and the elements table, but cannot remember where they left the car keys or how to set the sprinkler system.  

 Do you remember my search for his iPod?!  The Things My Husband Has Lost!

While I was gone, he had to call an electrician.  He ‘helped’ the electrician as they searched for the cause of the problem, which was in my writing room.  To allow access to the outlets, John cleared away all sorts of folders, binders, and assorted works-in-process.

Consequently, I have been searching for stuff for days.  Most important among those items was the Christmas cantata music our choir is practicing.  

 Man.  I tore apart every possible spot, every logical location that he might have placed my music tote bag. 

Huzzah.  That which was lost has been found.  John put the tote bag in with all the other re-usable totes we keep, in a dark corner in the kitchen. 

His response when I found it?  “Really?!  In that corner?  That’s really funny!”

Funny?  Not funny.  However, John lives to teach another day. 

What about your spouse or partner?  Do you struggle with the urge to scream?

The Bride at the Water's Edge

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The creek was still, clear, and cold.  Dorothy could almost see straight to the bottom.  Her long gown was close to water’s edge, but she was desperate.

“It has to be here!  I’ve searched everywhere!”

The old country church bells chimed, echoing through the valley and along the bluffs.  Time was against her.

“Stupid!  How could I have been so stupid?”  Dorothy muttered, looking down at her bare ring finger.  Going for an early morning swim with her old flame, Jack, on the day before the wedding?  Here, where she and Jack had spent many passionate hours?

There, a sparkle!  In the deep end, Dorothy thought she could see a sparkle.

“Looking for this?”  A sarcastic voice sounded behind her.  Dorothy spun around to see her fiancé David.  He held up the ring for just a moment, and then flung it into the dark water.  “Here, go get it, slut!”

David turned and strode away.

Dorothy gazed numbly at his back, and then at the sinking ring.  Tearing off the veil and taking a deep breath, Debbie Dorothy dove into the water.  ‘$30,000!  That ring is worth $30,000!  What was he thinking!” 

p.s.  This is the second Bride story.  This is more how I think.  Susan