After a cross-room flight, I handed Evelyn the airplane back. “Flies alright for me. Give it one more try.” With the underside pinched between her pointer and thumb, she cocked back the folded paper, then extended it forward, releasing it into forever. At seeing the sharp nose dive no more than a foot past the tip of her nose, her skeletal structure vanished, crumpling her body to the carpeted floor. The drama of being a frustrated 5-year-old intensified even more as she lay there. An “I’m stuck” eked out of her mouth. But, to be sure, there wasn’t a piece of gum, a booby trap, or anything remotely capable of containing her in sight.
Along with Dave and the three young girls, we walked the sidewalk path of downtown Roberta’s central park, passing vendors selling everything from pork rinds to 3D-printed figures and wooden benches with skeleton skull backrests. I knew my card and crumpled bills wouldn’t make it into their hands, so at every booth, I felt awkward at their lingering niceness, no matter how much I enjoyed the conversation, the smiles, and the happy holidays.
Believe me, this is a knotted area I’ve tried working out. Was it at a similar Christmas event last year that I forced myself to spend $20 to feel more engaged, finding something just to lessen my guilt by proudly carrying around an “I bought something” bag? Or did I try to force myself to spend that $20 but didn’t anyway?
I do recall putting a worm in my pocket at that event and finding it the next day. But I digress.
I am a fan of throw pillows and need several—for the couches, lounge chairs, and bench seats. Sneakily (until I got caught, anyway), I scoped Pinterest images while a family movie, That Christmas, played in the background. With all the fun pillow covers one can buy, the inspirational images are duds. But I, too, am a dud because whenever my excitement revs at a potential idea, I shoot it down. What if it’s not soft? What if there’s something better?
I need to remind myself of the countless research studies that show how too many choices shut down the brain’s ability to work effectively. Instead of excessive scrolling, I’ll create a folder on my desktop, find one or two inspirations for the pillow-needing areas, and then locate similar pillows and save their links to that same folder.
Phew, glad I figured out a system for myself. And if I like it enough, I can use it for other areas I want to design—like the backyard barnyard animal space that will house goats, pigs, and ducks.
Am I serious about that idea? Time will tell.
For now, we have plenty of other things to focus on, like enjoying the slowed pace of winter and the holiday season.
I’ll see you tomorrow. Take care.
Love,
Jaclynn
Going On 40 