So often, we are exhorted to “expect the unexpected,” to look for new slants, a different view of things.
And this is not a bad philosophy. Indeed, the “box” in which I live is constantly morphing into a different kind of box so that I really do think “outside the box!”
But to urge us, constantly, to expect the unexpected, to think outside the square, to invert the view is, at least to my mind, to strip the pretty wrapping from the gift.
What’s left? Certainly not expectation. And we all need some hint, some teasing promise of what might be just out of sight. Something to keep imagination fecund.
I was turning these thoughts over in my mind earlier today when I wandered through some blogs.
Bingo! The light bulb moment when I read this post ! I can relate completely to her reaction on finding that squirrel.
But had I been expecting something like that…I’m sure my reaction would not have been one of sadness for a dead animal, compassion for its death, gratitude for the person who lifted it to its gentle repose.
No, I am happy to accept and enjoy the unexpected, but I want it always to remain just that.
(And like all good thriller writers, I’m leaving you with bated breath!)
The groaning board
I’ve often remarked that artists are frequently darn’ good cooks; it must be the creative bent. Certainly, yesterday’s lunch proved this theory. Colourful, artistic and oh-so-edible.Now, where’s my treadmill…
A while ago, one of the members in our sister group (comprising mainly needle-workers) issued a challenge to us to “make an apron.” No guidelines, no prizes, no limits, except that it not be bigger than our display space.
But a couple of us thought awarding a prize after lunch (when we’d all imbibed a little!) would add to the fun. The unexpected again!
So The Man quietly inspected the display of pinnies, pretty and otherwise, and chose this winner…
…and two runners-up;all three modelling their take on the humble apron.
And now… I must make room for the newcomers…