At some point, pen to paper, fingers to keys, snippets to thought, the time is now.  No, now.  No, NOW!  The last thought is dimming even as I think it.  It must be saved, even if only to define myself at just that moment.

My thoughts run the race, quickly, nearly before I can reach out at snitch a handfull.  California Chrome in my head.  If only I could catch him as he passes, breathing hard….perhaps nasal strips would help!

More and more I leave notes, and take note, of oddities or just twists moving me just then.  Playing with words, growing up on sitcoms, leaves me full of juxtapositions.  Laughing, often guffawing, words in any form give me joy.  What beats a volatile, emotion-ridden, gigglefest of a friendly chat.  Riding the waves of conversation is riding the California waves.   They come and go, never on cue, sometimes surprisingly high, sometimes a washout and a mild disappointment.  I am, however, guaranteed, always, to get wet.  And for that, it’s worth the plunge.

Dinner table chats are a staple.  Grown up with them, pondered politics, spelling tests, the existence of cucumbers,and taught my children to play “Lookie.”   Disgusting game.  And we love it!  Oh, the combinations we concocted!  Oddly, I remain proud of that turn of events.   We debated the rule, “No Singing at the Table,” pronouncing it nonsense, singly roundly and soundly and off key with gusto.  We drummed our utensils, snitched a fry or two from the next plate, and eagerly welcomed anyone who wanted to join us.

The other Grand Teton of words is within the confines of our vehicles.  Never EVER a chore, we’d draw straws over who was LUCKY enough to drive the children to and from school, football, soccer, music lessons,  wherever, whenever.  Even for 5am swim and football practices.  Was the best driving them to?  The anticipation, the preparation, the unknown?  Or was the best in the retrieving?  The inevitable “Any adventures?”

The one time (that I remember….) not asking, was the day a friend dressed up in a gorilla suit ran through Physics class.  How could I fail to ask on THAT day?   The child in the care, eager to spill, prompted and prompted, until at last the brain cleared.

“Any Adventures?!” I asked, tardy.

Laughter exploded into a million sparkling diamonds in the Mom SUV.  I knew the story ahead would be a savory one.  The Gorilla Story became legend.  We still laugh diamonds.

Singing!  Singing!  Part of our vehicular fun!  Be it songs from ‘Les Miserables’ or learning the words to ‘Gilligan’s Island’, our voices necessitated the windows be rolled up tight.  Until we couldn’t hold it in.  We serenaded the neighborhood up and down the street.  Some smiles, mostly shock.

And we’d laugh diamonds.

Off we go, on this cavalcade of thoughts.   No mind where we go, it’s the getting there, and the capturing of moments along the way!





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