I went to a conference over the weekend.
It was a creativity conference recognizing the importance of collaboration and community.
The conference itself was called The Inklings Conference.
The Inklings were a group of writers who gathered at the University of Oxford.

The group consisted of writers, C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, and Owen Barfield to name a few.
The men met for almost twenty years.
They shared their writing and discussed their works in progress.
Feedback and encouragement were the order of the day.

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I was a few rows behind her.
She was in her mother’s arms as we were all singing at church.
I would guess that she was about five years old.
Her mother lifted her so she could see a bit better.

If truth be told, her mother lifted her because there will come a time when she will be too big.
There will come a time when this will be in the rear view mirror.
But for now, it was special to them.
It was a sweet thing to witness from my perspective.

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I saw her struggling with the shopping carts.
She was desperately trying to pull one cart free from the others.
The cart was not budging.
The carts were all stuck together.

I was walking towards the carts, ready to get one of my own.
Whoever put these together, put them together good, she said as she pulled.
I saw a lone cart that someone had left near the entrance.
I went over towards it as the woman was still pulling and tugging.

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The text came before lunch.
I stood in the kitchen laughing.
I’m sure my husband heard me from his office.
It was so innocent.

My daughter had been talking to my granddaughter, who is almost three and a half years old.
Since she is in preschool two mornings a week, conversations happen as she gets ready.
This day, for whatever reason, they were talking about Mexico.
Maybe Mexico was in a book they read and it became a topic of conversation.

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I always love one-on-one time with my children.
In fact, for any special occasion, the gift of time is precious to me.
Since we had so many family birthdays, my oldest daughter and I delayed our celebration.
It was actually better because we both looked forward to it with eagerness.

My daughter asked me to pick the restaurant.
We agreed on the date that was best for both of us.
The evening finally came.
I plan to look cute, she texted, but then she always does.

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This was a day of purposeful errands.
Three different stores.
Three different returns.
Why don’t you just get a label and send them back? My husband suggested.

Because that’s harder, I answered him.
He really didn’t understand.
He doesn’t realize that I just might find something to replace what I was returning.
He doesn’t realize that going out and having time to myself in the car is quite nice.

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If packages come in the mail, they are delivered to my laundry room door.
They are usually left next to the large milk can.
I always appreciate our mail carrier going the extra mile.
I can easily see the mail when I look out window.

I put my coat on to go out and get the mail.
I didn’t have to go far, since three packages were on my doorstep.
Our mail was wrapped in a rubber band and placed on top of one of the boxes.
There is something wonderful about getting packages, even if it is something I am expecting.

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I had to go to the little college town that is near my home.
It is a quaint town, with brick sidewalks.
Walking on the sidewalks demands careful attention.
None of the sidewalks are even; tree roots pop through at very awkward places.

Parallel parking is all one can do; unless you want to pay for a parking garage.
This little town houses the county courthouse.
A few parking garages are near the courthouse for people who have to come and go.
I always choose to park on the street and walk to my destination.

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Many years ago, I lost a bracelet.
It was a good bracelet, though not an expensive bracelet.
It was one I wore often.
I loved the charms that hung daintily from it.

I remember the Sunday morning I was dressing for church.
I went into the drawer where I kept that bracelet.
I opened the box.
It wasn’t there.

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I went to the dentist today.
That is not major news.
Going to the dentist is not uncommon for me.
Except now, in 2020, because of the virus that has spread around the world, it is.

I missed my last six month appointment.
It was scheduled in the month when the lock down began.
My dentist’s office was closed.
At that time, seven months ago, I had no idea when I could reschedule.

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