Walked today.
Went to school to see my daughter in a performance she was having and
fretted about how to get home in the cold, until I remembered that I had two
legs a big, warm coat and could in fact, walk. Yes, my hands were cold, yes I
was somewhat reluctant. The lining in my
hat was long gone and needed to be fiddled with to fit. The lady who sells jianbing was not there. So
my imagined segue to get a spicy bite to nosh along the way, went kaput. But none of it all really mattered. I was glad to be walking along the path I
otherwise drive to and from every day.
Smart phone. At first I couldn’t reach anyone. Left a message. Sent a message. Tried again.
Let it ring. Then they all
started calling back. A wechat call in
progress. Ah but the phone is set somewhere to cut the wechat call if a
cellular call should come in during the wechatter and it does. There must be a
way to change that setting. It won’t be
settled on this walk. I tell
cellular-call-person, to wait and call back the wechatter. That’s better. At first my hands can’t take
much of this. I walk along for fifty
meters and switch to my other hand and then back again fifty yards on. The frozen digits on the free hand are shoved
down into my downy pocket. Repeat down
the road. Repeat down the road. After a
while my hands were comfortably solidified in the outdoor temperature and I
found I could simple carry on as is.
How far was it? It can’t be more than a thirty-minute
walk. Forty minutes? What’s that, a mile and change? My daughters have probably never walked the
whole way home. We’ve got the ride-home
routine that we follow. For years now I
think we were sensitive to girls walking around by themselves with strange
drivers darting about. But at some point, it’s time for them confront the
world. There are some nutso drivers but
it’s not Kabul, I think to myself. When
the weather turns, I’m going to strongly suggest they hoof it for a change.
It’s closer then you think.
The guard wants my
ID. “Didn’t bring it. Sorry dude.” I give my house number so he can jot
something down in his book and then flip the gate up for myself, with a bow to
the man in uniform. The long straight
away I usually drive past in seven or eight seconds takes longer than I
remember. To my right there’s a cream
wall and a very large dog barking somewhere up head, on the other side of this
creamy concrete. Fido considers my
distant presence quietly and then barks away that this is his yard, his yard. I can’t resist telling him to sshhh when I walk in front of his
domain. I smile and wave to the guard. I
should have brought him a cup of boiling water from the café.
Wednesday, 2/07/18
Wow
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