C’est Bon.

Driving home today I couldn’t help but feel comforted by the sound of the man’s voice over the radio as he announced Baton Rouge’s traffic situation. I switched lanes as I wanted to make a left up at the traffic light, and gingerly waved to the momentarily kind hearted driver behind me.

BOOM, thought flow.
That maybe life isn’t a stone set path, but it is at least a gravel road. No one is (really) telling me where to go, but they are most definitely telling me how to get there. For instance; why is it that there is a certain way for the traffic man to talk? Like he’s an “old soul” or something. He is calm, breaks up his speech, and has a deep sing song voice. If he announced traffic any other way, he would sound quite strange. There is even a set way to wave in traffic: not too overexcited, but not too ungrateful. Obviously, it’s not like I’m playing Darwin or Einstein here, social norms have always been around; that’s no discovery. It was just an interesting thought is all.
From the bathroom I could hear Grandad, “At the Space Museum, I can type the word Baton Rouge in one tenth of a second!” I stop to contemplate this. How fast could I type Baton Rouge? Two, maybe three seconds? Then it occurs to me; no one could time something that fast in the first place…how much thought to I put into things that are an exaggeration? I often mull over many situations in my head that someone has just told me, trying to unkink the kinks, and then I realize: Seline, they were only exaggeration. I wish I could get all that wasted thought back, it seems to happen a lot, and my brain can seem pretty tired some days.
I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t have written an entire post about nothing. Oh well; I guess I’ve just been reading too much Catcher in the Rye.
Sitting around Gran’s living room with Hannah and Sarah couldn’t be more enjoyable. Gran and Grandad sit in the kitchen, and I can hear a faint and steady conversation between them, even after 50 years 🙂
We sit in a hazy warm light, engulfed in couch cushions and contentment. We discuss my kids at work (who the girls finally got to meet!) and try to coax Hannah into pronouncing her French book title for us. Sarah tries, and sounds more like a phlegmy Gollum.
Also, I REALLY want to learn to play the fiddle. Ah life.
c’est bon.

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