My Take
DiVoran Lites
Some people call it fall, some say Autumn. It is time for leaves to change and the weather to grow cooler.
This morning as I left the house, I looked forward to my walk on the trail, but one block up I saw many parked cars and a few signs that said, “Garage Sale.” Oops. Oh well, I’d get almost as much exercise going around to greet my neighbors and pursue their histories as I would walking the trail.
The first house was Ester’s, she had an orange sherbet-shirt with sparkling jeweled sea horses on it. It said, “Dixie Crossroads,” and since I eat there fairly frequently and always want one of those tee-shirts, I asked her to hold it for me while I went home to get some money.
Ester started to tell me about being sorry that she had fired our mutual handy-man, Hal. We had heard his side of it too. Ester’s young helper told her to tend to business so I said goodbye and left, my tee-shirt was in good hands. Ester is 80 and has dialysis three times a week, but she still exudes a love of life and a sharp mind.
At the next sale the homeowner had bright eyes and a bowl-type haircut. From her I bought a bed for my cat Jasmine, some pretty Melmac dishes to use for plant saucers, and a brand new timer just like the forty-year-old one I gave away a month ago. I missed it.
Bill was interested in what I was doing home so soon and laughed when I told him about the “garage” sale. Our handy-man, Hal, was with him. We’ve had to do without him once or twice, and I tell you it was hard, just as Ester had started to say.
A few weeks ago, Hal got a, new-to-him car from Car Care. It’s a ministry run by a wonderfully experienced mechanic, Ray, and his wife Alice, (who does the paper work) at the Indian River Methodist Church on howdy fifty called Car-Care. Hal is pretty much destitute even though he works hard much of the time and Car Care was looking for someone to give a refurbished car to (for a small pittance). Hal ended up with a Ford Taurus he needed so he could go to work and go fishing. He loved his old Datsun pick-up, but every time he drove it heated up and wouldn’t start again. The body had patches welded on it. Now he was ga-ga over his Taurus, and couldn’t say enough about its AC, Cruise Control, and great engine. He sounded like a man in love. I think that was why he corrected me when I told him and Bill I’d been to a, “garage sale.” Almost to himself he said, “yard sale,” “flea market.” For a moment he must have hoped there might be something for his beloved car there. I must admit, I haven’t kept up well with the nomenclature, either. Probably everyone is calling them yard sales nowadays. After the two extra trips home, one to get my money and one to take my goodies, I decided to walk the trail after all. I was glad I did. What a gorgeous day!
Another reason I was glad was because I got to see another sight I saw and admired so much yesterday. A teacher in our school here has begun to take school children for bike rides on the trail – all properly helmeted, of course. Yesterday there were eighteen third graders zooming around me. There were fewer today and they were moving a bit more slowly. In fact, after the first one, they all needed to be waved at. It was easy. I raised my hand like an English princess and kept it moving until all had passed. “You’re making a lot of kids happy,” I shouted to the tail-end teacher. She grinned and waved back. Ah fall. Fall in paradise. It couldn’t be better.
The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places; Indeed, my heritage is beautiful to me. Psalm 16:6
allowing his ancient dog to saunter and sniff all he wanted. We spoke as we passed. When I got to the curve in the trail where I leave it, I stopped to make a note of something. There I heard a forlorn meowing from the bushes. It had to be a lost domestic cat. It was. Chuck’s cat big male tiger kitty.
Old Things R New 