I can track how our basement renovations were going, who we paid, and when. Reminding us that this is where we will spend our summer vacation. It isn’t so bad; Burlington has a beach, you know.
Tall, dark, and handsome and I went to see Adwoa Badoe (she explores the arts of Africa through storytelling, African dance and drum and more) at the Waterloo Region Museum. That note reminds me of the conversation I had with the women who were seated next to me. I asked them how they heard about the concert. They had been to another event in Kitchener, they said, and picked up pamphlets for the Historical Storytelling Series. They didn’t know anything about storytelling And, they wondered, how did I find out? When I told them I am a storyteller, they asked, “Do you tell stories like this teller?” My reply: “No, I am a middle-aged white woman. My style is somewhat different.” We had a laugh and by intermission they were planning on coming back to hear Aaron Bell. He is performing this evening.
I forgot to mark that down and made plans to have a sympathy supper and wine (over the loss of the Wandering Workshops/Heart Lifting Folklore concert) with my dear friend. She has the wine chilled but hadn’t started preparing supper when I called to ask if we could reschedule. Next Tuesday. In ink.
On the 11th I met 2 friends for dinner. We always have a difficult time putting our calendars together and getting them to match up. I made the reservation for 7:00 and was actually a bit early. The waitress brought a cup of coffee and I waited. The artwork on the walls is very interesting. And I waited. By 7:10, I figured traffic must be challenging. One of the women was coming in from Toronto. And I waited. By 7:20 I text-ed one of my friends in between games of “Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader?” No reply. I was on the phone with my husband asking him to look up the email I sent to them earlier in the day. Perhaps I got the time wrong? Just then, a waiter came around the corner and asked if I was waiting for 2 other women. Yes. He disappeared and they came around the corner. My name was stroked off the reservation list indicating I had arrived, but no one knew where they put me and considered my arrival was a mistake. So my friends were sitting on the other side of the restaurant wondering where the heck I was. We had a giggle. I thought at least my coffee should be complementary.
Oh, and my new friend, Claire, from Halifax is calling tomorrow at 10:00 a.m.! We met in St. John’s at the SC-CC Conference and discovered we both delight in Anita the Best. That has forged a bond so that when she is in Toronto in May telling stories for a house concert, I will bring her back to Burlington where she can perform here as well. We will tell tales and sing some ballads together. (More info on that as the date approaches.)
I think I’ll stop there. More stories will follow with a planned spa sleepover and our son’s 17th birthday; a Hamilton Story Circle dedicated to Lorne Brown’s SC-CC CD. Our evening is called, “Love Lorne.”
Once I look it over, it’s the small stuff that makes my life interesting. Admittedly, I do sweat some of it. Those times are where the best stories come from!