Yesterday, I was sitting at my dining room table, covered with a beige patterned table runner and four complementary green placemats. The idea landed with a definitive tone. I wanted a tablecloth.
That I was contemplating a tablecloth on a quiet Saturday afternoon, I would not have seen two days earlier. An out-of-town friend was coming to visit for the long weekend. As is a habit of mine when guests are coming, I was cleaning the house, selecting menus and organizing in ways that nobody else would notice. Except me.
On Friday morning, I got a text message. “Severe weather warning in Southern Alberta.” Southern Alberta was the only route between my friend and I. We watched the weather channel and looked up the road conditions. We agreed. The snow storm kyboshed the visit.
As I percolated the news, I thought of my next 3 days. Except for theatre tickets, I had cleared the decks for the visit with my friend. In a life of full-time work and many interests, a weekend with no plans just never happens. As the ideas of what to do began cascading in my mind, I heard the voice of another friend, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!” What if I didn’t make any plans? What if I just let my day unfold with going from one inspired moment to another? A novelty. I can work with that.
I sat at my computer. My email deposited an notice from the library telling me that a book I requested had arrived. The tablecloth idea happened right then. Which brought me downtown, strolling down the streets at a pace that I can’t seem to find in a regular day.
The tablecloth is red, not matching my blue Japanese pottery but then blue on red is striking. This red is bright and cheery, just what is needed as the nights are increasing and the sun is hid behind clouds. I never would have bought it had my plans not changed.