Tattered Past

Tattered Past: My ongoing journey through genealogy, history, writing, self-exploration and art. ~~~ Rita Ackerman





Thursday, September 16, 2010

Waiting

I'm waiting for the glass man to come replace the windshield in our van. The are two many chips and one is huge and starting to crack. I also have a chip in my windshield that he will repair. 

At least with this waiting I can be at home and get things done. Unlike waiting in line at the post office where sometimes I can read the mail I just pulled out of my box (but mostly just stand) or waiting in line at the grocery store or pharmacy. Those times don't seem to lend themselves to using the time productively.

It can get interesting at times...listening in on other peoples conversations; to each other or on their cell phones, wondering what is in the packages they are holding; maybe even making up little stories about the packages. Trying to see the wanted posters in the display case. Oh, more stories.

Of course doctor's offices are a little better because you can sit for awhile and journal or read or listen to conversations and make up little stories based on a few words you might hear. The magazines are diverse and may introduce you to something you hadn't thought about before. More ideas, more stories.

I was once in the doctor's office and a lady, obviously from the South, was talking to the lady next to her. She had on bright colors and was flamboyant in every way. The second lady was going through the decisions of having a hysterectomy and Mrs. Flamboyant was on a roll. "Now, Honey, you don't let them take your ovaries. Just don't do it. No, no, don't let them take your ovaries." I kept burying my head deeper in my book so they wouldn't see me chuckling. I got a great story out of her for my writing group the next week...and now here she is showing up again.

Now that I really think about it; maybe waiting isn't such a bad thing. Do you have a waiting room story to share?

Tumwater Falls, Tumwater, Washington

1 comment:

  1. I was waiting for a ride home from the grocery store, two old men were sitting, having just met themselves. One had a hat that led to a discussion of their days in WW2. I wish I had a pen and paper and could have written their stories, memories and a picture to capture the way a simple look between them said so much.

    ReplyDelete

Please leave a comment so I know you were here. Comments are like Internet hugs.