An extra sock
Cheryl Unruh
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
My friend Karen was folding clothes. One item remained in the laundry basket. She picked it up.
“Oh look, an extra sock!” she said.
This is the outlook of a positive-minded person. At my house, there is no manifesting of socks. Instead, 237 of them are forever lost in my washing machine’s digestive system.
For Karen, the laundry basket is always half-full. (Or, should that be … half-empty?)
Those of us more inclined toward negative thinking have surrendered to the idea that one missing sock per week is actually a small price to pay for the privilege of having modern appliances.
Honestly, I marvel at the laundry process. I carry a basket of clothes to the cave-like basement and open the washing machine lid. (I always keep the top closed so that the cat doesn’t jump in, knock down the lid and die a lonely death, trapped in the washer.)
I pour liquid detergent into the cylinder. Toss in dirty clothes. Turn the dial. Walk away. Approximately 30 minutes later, the clothes are clean.
I mean: Ta-da!
Really, isn’t that some sort of miracle? The dryer, while somewhat less dramatic, is also a cherished appliance.
Whoa, wait a minute. What if … we could take Karen’s attitude (an extra sock!) and change other seemingly negative aspects of life into positive experiences?
The possibilities are endless.
Let’s apply positive thinking to the chaotic detours at the junction of U.S. Highway 50, Interstate 35, and the Kansas Turnpike.
Where these roads converge, traffic has been rerouted through funnels which squeeze something like six lanes of semis and cars into one lane and vehicles drip out one at a time.
But, being optimistic here (as best I can), maybe by the time we get the detours memorized, then they redo them, we learn new routes, and they redo them — that, after two years of traffic tangles and trials, we will be glad to have, no, we will actually worship the dreaded roundabouts.
I think that’s the plan — to wear us down with confusion. Then they will present a clean and sparkling roadway. And perhaps we will like it.
The way I understand it, these future roundabouts should fling Iowans, Texans, and Minnesotans off the turnpike and drop them into a new shopping district on the west edge of town.
Plans are still in the air, but Emporians are salivating at the thought of an Olive Garden springing up here. Some locals dream of a Best Buy, others, a Home Depot. And if it’s not too much, we ask, could we have a Red Lobster, please? (Can’t you almost taste the Cheddar Bay Biscuits now?)
Thinking favorably, maybe we’ll gain some great new businesses and perhaps those chain stores won’t stifle our hometown establishments.
Now, on to something else that we could perceive differently: snow and ice. We’ve experienced quite a bit of frozen precipitation recently. Can we find a bit of delight in this?
After yet another snowfall in our endless stretch of storms, Dave looked out the door. Sunlight bounced off the flakes, adding a million sparkles to the view.
“It’s pretty out there,” Dave remarked.
“Sure,” I scoffed, “if you like pretty.”
Positive aspects of snow? Hmm, sorry, that one is just not going to work for me.
However, February is a short month — a psychological boost when we need one the most. As we cross the border into March and peer into the distance, we shall see spring.
The other day, my brother wrote, “The snow will be gone soon enough and before you know it the lilacs will be blooming in the dooryard again.”
Melted snow, blooming lilacs, an extra sock. Let us meditate on these good things.
“Flyover People” is online at www.flyoverpeople.net.
F Cheryl Unruh can be reached at cheryl@flyoverpeople.net.