A Relic From the Past

Today I stopped at Starbucks and used the last of a gift card.  Finding that I still owed twelve cents, I pulled out my coin purse and rummaged for a dime and pennies.  “Is that a skate key?” inquired the barista, peering down inquisitively. “Drum key,” I answered. “Oh, are you a drummer?” I resisted the urge to lie and instead answered truthfully,  “Don’t I wish?  Actually, I raise drummers.”  This too, is an obsolete truth.  It has been ten months since I used the drum key.

How often do you clean out the nooks and crannies of your purse? In doing so, do you discover relics, ticket stubs and memories?  Last time I went on a handbag cleaning spree, I found a worn ribbon of paper, saved from a memorable fortune cookie.  I had carried it since a family reunion some ten years previous.  The drum key is not so ancient. Up until June of last year, I taught music. I got used to setting up and tearing down my drum kit. I also directed and attended a number of performances where it was advantageous to have a drum key handy.  So, it came to reside in my purse along with my small measuring tape and my P38 can opener.  Like a good boy scout, a good mother is always prepared. 

These days, I work in a pathology lab and come home to an empty nest.  One has to wonder what I am doing with a drum key in my wallet.  One also wonders if it makes me more interesting to carry a drum key or a skate key?  But, maybe that’s just the writer in me that wonders.

Drop by and see me

Northbound? Turn left when you see this view out the drivers window
Now you are standing on the street where I live!
Come on in,
My door is open

Dont send flowers, just go for a walk with me.
After all, I chose this place because of the LOCATION for walking
We can stroll along the beach at low tide


...until we get to the Mariana at the bottom of "the bowl"


Get caught in the rain, and see the rainbow pointing...


To where I live happily, half way up the side of the bowl.