As I was walking Jessie this afternoon, just one more bitter cold Sunday, I was remembering an incident we had a couple of winters ago. It reminded me that some adventures are small and close to home, and we do not have to count on international travel to provide us with experiences that make us wonder.
Winter 2008, and Jessie and I were out on a walk around the block; it was cold and snowy and the sidewalks were icy. It was probably right around the time I thought to myself ” Amazing I have not fallen yet” that I did just that. (Actually I think I was also remembering the time when I was running down a different slippery sidewalk with my baby in my arms and I fell, tossing the heavily swaddled bundle of joy into a snow bank where he luckily had a safe landing. But I digress.)
This time many years later there was nothing as precious as a baby in my arms, but I *had* been carrying a neatly knotted plastic bag containing Jessie’s ‘business’. My arms flailed wildly as I was going down (and trying hard not to land on Jessie) and that bag was flung like a shot put …somewhere. When I got up and dusted off, with mostly only my pride wounded, I could not find that bag anywhere. I searched high and low but with no luck. I’m afraid it might have gone into the crowded bed of the pick up truck parked on the street, and that poor guy would come across it and wonder who would do that kind of thing to him, and why.
Well OK this is not a really exciting story, but it is one of those things I wonder about on occasion. Where did that bad of poop go???
What’s one of your small adventures that fills you with wonder?