After weeks in a contemplative cocoon, I resumed my regular life. The reentry from my retreat felt like I had fallen to earth from a distant planet. I wanted to get back to routine.
The reentry from my retreat felt like I had fallen to earth from a distant planet. I wanted to get back to routine.
I checked my emails.
The perfect entrance to reality – Aunt Daisy:
“Hi Honey! You’re back in the saddle again, accordin’ to my calendar! I know you’re gonna tell me all about your meditation retreat when you get a hunkerin’ to. Meanwhile, I’ll tell you what’s happenin’ in my neck of the woods.
It’s been nice relaxin’ for a couple of months in my cute little farm house in Florida. I listened to the crickets at night, watched the sun rise and set from my porch swing and picked flowers for pitchers and vases around the house. I counted ten different bird species landin’ in my trees and drinkin’ water from the birdbath. It was all peaceful and quiet. But then, I realized to my horror – I’m gettin’ lazy! And I was lonely. I wanted to meet people and be part of the doin’s.
I said to myself, “Daisy, look at all those beautiful berries growin’ in your backyard. It’s time to get “Jammin’ with Aunt Daisy!” So off I went! I bought myself a load of jars and lids and had a bunch of snappy labels with red checkerboard borders made up.
Jars lined all the shelves and counters in the kitchen. Cauldrons of jams bubbled away, sweetenin’ the air. I ladled jams made from strawberries, blueberries, mulberries, boysenberries, and gooseberries into the jars. For good measure, I added a bit of my secret ingredient – not sure if it’s legal in Florida – into the jams, just enough to give it zingggggg!
I took the jams to the Saturday market and set up a stall, decoratin’ it with flowers from my garden and hung it with checkerboard buntin’. Looked pretty. My stall caught the eye of customers and I gave away free samples in bitty spoons. They started buyin’ left and right and I made some real good foldin’ money.
Last Saturday, a very distinguished lookin’ gent (not my type but I’m not lookin’) asked for a sample of each. He tasted each flavor noddin’ his head.
“Ms. Daisy,” he said, “I got a proposition for you.”
Was I excited! I had not been propositioned for a while (not that I’m lookin’ – but I already mentioned that!) Besides, did I already say he was not my type?????? I’m meetin’ with him soon and will let you know what he is proposin’. No, Honey, he’s definitely, definitely, not my type.
Will tell all details after the meetin’ with the man who’s not my type.
Hmmmmmmm …… we’ll see. Aunt Daisy – still going strong!
Another reality check – an email from Cutlass and Bobo:
“Sylvia, darling! Back from retreat! By now you should be washed, the garlic cleared from your breath, and your Birkenstocks donated to charity. Glad you are amongst the living again! We’d love to have you and Max to dinner this Saturday. We have a huge surprise in store for you! You’ll never, ever guess!”
So enticing! Of course, Max and I were free on Saturday.
Saturday came. We were greeted at the door by both Cutlass and Bobo, arms outstretched and waving madly.
“Darlings! Come in, come in. There’s someone here who’s absolutely mad to meet you! Hold on to your martinis!”
They swept Max and me past their painting gallery into the living room with the pin lit portrait of Rosa Azul. A very nattily dressed young man, put his cocktail down, got up from the sofa, and walked toward me. He was clean-shaven, with short, neatly cut brown hair, soft brown eyes and was very handsome.
“Dearest Sylvia!” He said. “It’s been too long!” Taking my hand, he kissed it.
Who was this stranger? And yet, so familiar? I looked closely into his eyes and suddenly realized who was in front of me. But … it can’t be! Can it? I can’t believe it’s really him! I took a breath. It couldn’t be him! It’s not possible!
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