I recently turned 50. It’s a lot like 49, except more … something.The correct word has flown out of my head.
I’ll move on to other things.
Tuesday I planned to go to the pool. I needed my sunglasses. They weren’t where I had left them, in their special corner. I searched under my jackets, on my bookshelf, inside my waist pack. No sunglasses. I knew they weren’t in my knapsack, but peered inside anyway. No sunglasses. I wore their understudy–my old pair. They were happy to be next in line. When I returned, I looked some more. Under my jackets, in my waist pack. No sunglasses. I knew they weren’t in my knapsack, but felt around beneath the plastic bags. And lo! there they were.
All was well.
Then Wednesday came along and I decided to make tea. I filled the kettle with water, turned on the burner, put tea in my mug. Sat down at the table. When the water boiled, I poured it into my mug. Since the water was too hot to drink, I left the room to get my book. The thought of reading my mystery while drinking tea made me feel cozy. When I returned to the kitchen, I glanced at the tea kettle. No flame beneath it. I must have forgotten to turn on the stove again. How could I make tea without boiling the water? I turned on the gas. I waited. When the water boiled, I turned off the gas, picked up the kettle, and was about to pour it into my mug, when I had an aha moment.
By the way, that word I forgot earlier?