One At A Time

When I was a kid, I loved having dollar bills. Well, I loved having money at all, but I felt much richer with five ones than with a five. When I leave a tip, even if I leave a five or a ten or--gulp!--a twenty to achieve the percentage I like, I like to add ones to it. I'd rather leave a dollar bill than four quarters, because it feels like more. Maybe not to the server, but I hope it does.

We went to Fort Wayne on Friday, and in three fields between North Manchester and where we turn onto 24, there are lone trees standing tall and straight and full in the middles of fields. Not on fence rows, not as members of a group, but alone and somehow watching over the area. I always think of my lost cottonwood when I see them, and I'm glad that neither the weather nor the farmers have taken them down.

Tyrese Haliburton

I don't watch NBA basketball, but I'm glad for the Pacers that they earned their way into the finals. I have watched Tyrese Haliburton's final shot for the win in the first game against the Oklahoma Thunder at least a dozen times. Well, maybe more than that. What a thrilling moment for so many people to share.

When I put coats away for the winter, or jackets for the spring or fall, I try to leave some ones in their pockets. Even if I know they might be there, it's fun to find them. Probably a lot more fun than a dollar deserves, but I'll take it.

Memories are best one at a time, too. We need to spend time with them, laugh over them--or cry ... whichever is needed, but it we give over to a bunch of them at once, they can be overwhelming to the extent they will stop us from going forward. (Don't ask me how I know this. You get it.)

I'm not sure why I'm writing about this right now--other than driving past those trees doing sentry duty over their fields. But I know how often my mind is full of "should do" things, "I forgot to do" things, and "I'll get to it" things. I worry about them, I worry about clutter, I worry about finding the tops of the island and the dining room table. And, sadly enough, I worry about them all at the same time.

So today is the day--you all hear me, right?--when I will worry about one thing. I will divide the "should do" into one dollar bills instead of fives or tens.

And I will remember wash day when I was a kid, when we hung everything outside and had ham and beans for supper. The house smelled of Tide detergent and starch in a bucket. A good memory. Just one.

Have a great week. Do one thing at a time. Be nice to somebody.