MONDAY MONDAY

Monday I decided to walk to Home Depot and buy two square 20" plastic terra cotta pots to repot Mike’s jade trees. I’d only ever gone to Home Depot with Mike in the car, so I had no idea if it was within reasonable walking distance. But I’ve been a megga walker all my life, so ... pfft ... I wasn’t worried.

So, with Mike’s Ipod clipped to the waistband of my shorts and the little earplugs in my ears lending a loud and beautiful soundtrack to my world, I put on my sunglasses and stepped out the front door.

I walked through the park, crossed the overpass and followed the highway. My head was full with the music blasting into my ears, and muted sounds of traffic (California traffic is HUGE), and the even more muted sounds of my footsteps marching along.

Over my years of walking (I’ve never had a driver’s licence), I’ve developed a personal style of getting from point A to point B. I look on the horizon for a particular highrise, or whatever, that I can aim for. And then I aim for it. When I get there, I figure out which direction I need to turn. So ... I looked for a particular California hill, and headed for it. Along the way I saw buildings I recognized from those times that Mike and I went to Home Depot in the car, so I knew I was going the right way.

Along the way, I spotted plants here and there, that I wanted for my garden, so I stopped and pinched off some cuttings to root when I got back home, and thrust them into my shoulder bag.

When I got to Home Depot, I sailed in through the doors, found my pots, bought them, and sailed on out again. The pots weren’t heavy, even though they were quite large. I carried them easily on my shoulder.

I got lost on the way home.

I guess I took a wrong turn. I was marching along the highway with my pots on my shoulder, when I realized I was heading North toward Canada - my former homeland. A sign announced “this way to Eureka”. I turned back.

Further on, I turned up what I thought was the overpass I’d crossed earlier. Halfway across, I realized it was not the same overpass. I stopped, and shaded my eyes with my hand to scan the horizon. Far to the South, I thought I recognized the overpass. I turned back.

I tripped along, carrying my pots on my shoulder, music blasting into my head, glorying in the fact that I was in California and I was wearing shorts and I had a bunch of cuttings in my shoulder bag, and ... well I was just happy as a lark.

Anyway, after three hours total, I finally made it home.