So, I said that there might be occasional “non-Tuesday” posts…well, today’s the first! I couldn’t resist posting this – though it has nothing to do with writing or publishing or editing. But it has everything to do with ME!
Today Lucy and Katie washed dolly clothes – an annual ritual in our house, as it was when I was a child. (And some of the doll clothes are of that vintage!) As they did so it reminded me of this photo…from a few years back…of washer-woman Katie. (Who is, I might add, a far kinder and gentler – though perhaps not much better at actual washing – washer-woman than Mr. Toad of Toad Hall.)
What is it about household chores that hold interest to children? Why is it so thrilling to help fold clothes, stir the pasta, get the mail? And where, along the line, does that intrest disappear to? What deep, dark corner holds lost interests? And is it the same deep, dark corner that hold lost socks? Lost arguments? Lost loves?
And what about lost time? Wasted opportunity? My sister, in high school art class, caligraphied this poem and I’ve never forgotten it: “Four things come not back: The spoken word, the sped arrow, time past, the neglected opportunity.”
May the end of this day find you content that you have not wasted any of these things. Especially the arrows.