Remember our porch parties? The number one porch party rule is: “Don’t say anything negative. Just sip coffee and talk about good things.” Last week I blew it.
A pile of sticks became like Ray and Debra’s suitcase.
Clyde, our Lab, has a new hobby. He chews sticks at porch parties and spits the wood into a pile like a beaver building a dam.
Right in front of Rick’s chair.
For the last two weeks, Clyde had quite a pile going. (Below is from this morning–a rather small pile.)
For days I thought, How big will the pile get if I don’t sweep it? You know, the whole Little Red Hen thing.
But the broom was closer to Rick. I looked at him. Don’t the sticks bother you?
The next day I broke Rule Number One. “The sticks are getting pretty messy. I guess ‘we’ should sweep.”
“We need to,” he said.
Only one person can sweep.
I decided I wasn’t sweeping–no matter how big the pile got.
And then a couple of days later, Rick swept the sticks into a neat pile.
But he left the pile on the porch.
So instead of focusing on this…
I only saw a pile of sticks.
Friday night, I peeked out the window as my husband gathered the last of the tomatoes from the garden. My heart melted. It’s so hot. Probably 102. He has to be tired.
My word for the year came to me.
Over a pile of sticks? Really?
I swept the sticks into the dustpan and threw them away.
I can’t tell you how good it felt!
Has anyone ever let something silly get waaaaaay too important to you?