Sundry meandering thoughts

I should have stayed in girl scouts, because this morning I'm regretting my poor fire making skills. I had my boy scouts explain it to me and get a fire started in Clifford's new and improved fireplace, but the guys are now at school, and the fire wanes.

It caused me think about my year in Brownies. I think I was just learning to read when I got my Brownie handbook, and I dreamed I could be the brownie girl in the play found at the front of the book. I poured over that play time and again, because the lead role looked into a fairy pond and said magical words. When my best friend's mom asked me to take the part in our troop, I nearly fainted with joy. Her mother literally created a set including a mirror with greenery around it for the pond. It is a blissful memory of mine from childhood to have performed for all the parents.

I also recalled my one year in girl scouts with my sister. I don't think she and I were ever in a single club together of any kind after that, but we joined the same girl scout troop at Woodfill Elementary School. My fondest memory of that experience came about by my sister telling the girl scout leader how disappointed she was with her Christmas gift swap, so I held out my present to my sister in exchange. My sister happily handed me her miniature wooden angel ornament which I found exquisite for whatever unmemorable present I'd gotten in the exchange. Apparently the girl scout leader took this as some big sacrifice on my part though I don't remember it being so. Later, the leader came to me with a nifty girl scout coin purse, and whispered, "I saw what you did for your sister, and I thought you deserved something better." I turned that fabulous little forest green pouch over and over in my little girl hands thinking I was the luckiest person in the whole wide world that day. It's funny to me thinking back on that knowing how very satisfied with the tiny angel I was and astounded at a further gift.

Helps me remember that ya never know what a child is really thinking.

This morning my daughter and I arrived at our bus stop the minute the bus occasionally arrives, and I explained to her, "If we've missed the bus then I'll make sure the boys catch their and drive you on to school."

She burst into tears, "I don't WANT to be LATE! Please take me now. The bus never comes at sunrise, and look. There's the sun."

"Let not worry about what might happen just yet. We'll wait here ten more minutes..." I replied, "but oh, look, there's your bus now."

She dried her tears instantly and popped out the car with a lilt in her step.

When I was in second grade, my mom woke my sister and I in the middle of the night on a school night and stealthily took us to a friend's house far from our neighborhood after a she became afraid of dreadful things. The next morning, my mom let us all sleep in, and much to my horror, I arrived to Miss Bohn's class after 10 a.m. Miss Bohn must have noticed my tear stained face for I was ashamed that I was late. She spoke gently to me, "It doesn't matter what time you get here. I'm just always glad to see you." That woman had no idea how comforting and memorable her words were for me that day.

I've literally been trying diligently to live in the moment these days and not worry about the "what ifs" of the future. I can tell it's going to be a hard lesson for my girl as it is for all of us.