If I have my druthers, someday there will be a tombstone within a hundred miles of here with the words - “IT WAS COMPLICATED,” followed by my name in small letters and a couple of dates. Because THAT is what life is!
Yesterday was one of the first of actual spring days here. It was one of those where I get to savor each wonderfully intricate flower in my wife’s garden. They are isolated now but in one day the neighbors will be moving in, and then there will be all those territorial battles. It’s already happening with the squill, but that’s only a short-term power grab - pretty exciting since there were probably a thousand bees in our backyard alone, taking advantage of the situation - but I digress.
I started out at 5 am with hopes of getting a few chores done, savoring the new life beneath my feet and the fresh air between my toes. I would change the oil in my motorcycle, take a bicycle ride before the 80 degree day set in, and then warm that oil up over the course of a couple hours.
Well, I cooked some oatmeal, closely examined two brand new daffodils on the way to the garage, applied some Thompsons water seal to some four-year-old treated lumber, and backed my motorcycle out of the garage. I’ll spare you the details but lets just say that 13 hours and $90 later I was almost finished the half-hour job of changing that oil. And neither the time nor the dollars were happily spent.
But, it was finally time to top off that oil and take it for a very short spin “before” dinner. I went out to mimic one of my six-mile bike loops and the fresh air in my face was nothing short of glorious, in part because I’d been surrounded by steel and concrete all too much of the day. The air at one point was pungent with the smell of fresh manure as it was being cast on a large farm nearby - truly aroma therapy for me.
I decided to take a short-cut through an older tree-lined neighborhood a few blocks from home. I noticed a roughly seven-year-old girl, alone at a card table in her front yard. I slowly put on my brakes while pondering - IF that’s a lemonade stand, on this street, maybe twenty cars would pass by over the course of the day. How could I not go back?
As I pulled up and noticed the sign: 50 cents - Watermelon Kool-aid, Spearmint iced tea - I had a flood of concerns. I’m a stranger, an old guy at that, and there’s a sweet little girl who could so easily be my granddaughter. I’m concerned for her safety. Am I presumed to be a pervert for stopping? Is there a guy with a shotgun standing behind the dark picture window I see on the front of the house? I have zero desire or thoughts of doing anything beyond getting a good ole cup of lemonade, or the closest facsimile thereof. Icing on the cake would be asking this relatively new human being - How is life treating YOU . . . and getting an answer.
I would have loved to have asked her - How’s school going? How are people treating you there? Is it fun being a seven-year-old in 2023? What’s the most exciting thing you learned last week? But I can’t. Instead of that little casual conversation, I stick to business as I search through the pockets of my oldest shorts - for fifty cents. I have no idea how they got there, but I found two quarters and invested in a cup of the iced tea.
She then offered me the option - “with or without ice”. I chose the latter but with one sip realized the “iced” tea was as warm as my motor oil. She was gracious enough to make amends. I then got real gutsy and asked her if she got time off from school for Easter? “Just Good Friday and Monday.” My hunch is that even though the exchange was awkward, she felt better for the fifty cents, and I felt a little encouraged that parents still let their kids have a “Lemonade” stand. Statistically it’s probably safer than her classroom.
Last sentence is sad that is the way it is these days . Glad you enjoyed the day outside