What Missing the Bus Taught Me

Hello there Harriet here, well I missed the bus this morning. And being in such a rural part of North Carolina meant I had to wait quite a bit of time before the next one came along. So I sat on the bench with my tote and my rolly-polly suitcase and my book--currently reading Nancy Rue's latest about the Reluctant Prophet. More on that another day. And I got to thinking. My first thoughts were about Max and how he seemed to miss everything. I think we missed the first five minutes of every movie we ever saw, he almost missed the birth of Henry because he was stuck on a job and well, to his credit, Henry was a few days early. But he never missed Christmas or a birthday. He never forgot our anniversary or to bring me flowers when I was feeling blue or after one of our silly little arguments. And he always promised to do better the next time. Sometimes when he missed  a STOP sign he said, "Ah, I'll just stop twice at the next one." Then I thought about Humphrey and how he used to sniff around looking for the best place to, well, uh, do his business. Not just any spot would do. He often moved on to the next spot because it was better, or different. Then I thought about buying carpet, isn't that strange? Anyhoo, I remember how we would shuffle through sample after sample always looking at the next one becuase it might be better than the one before or be more right, than the one before. Does that make sense? Buses are like that, I might have missed the first one, the one I planned on taking but, maybe, just maybe the next bus is more right than the first. Maybe there's a reason I needed to wait for the next. What's next for you?