When I pulled out of the driveway this morning, my brain was in errand mode.
You know what I mean.
My thoughts were racing with my jam-packed pre-Christmas to-do list, limited time schedule, tight funds, and preoccupation with trying to remember what I must certainly be forgetting.
In other words, I was on a mission. Focused and intense, I certainly had no interest in non-essential distractions or side-trips.
But just as I started off on my quest, a quirky, adorable and totally unexpected sight commanded my attention.
My big red balls were covered with snow.
Oh my goodness.
Now I love these sassy dollops of red any time of the year. But to see them wearing their jaunty white caps of last night's slushy snow...well, that just fascinated me.
Within my brain, my whimsy center insisted: Stop and take a picture.
The practical, list-ticking side of my mind retorted primly: We have no time for snow caps. Chop, chop...on with the errands!
In a flash, an internal debate ensued:
But they look so cute!
True. But you're already in the car, driving away. Just carry on.
When will I ever have another chance like this one?
Who knows. But stopping for photos is impractical and inefficient. Keep going.
It was then that my body decided to settle the matter. Throwing the car into park, right in the middle of the street, I jumped out, dashed over to the sidewalk, and began snapping pictures of the jolly red balls from every angle.
I was in heaven.
In less than a minute, I was content. Clicking off my camera, I returned to the car and drove on.
My list-ticking brain was ultimately satisfied. I finished all my errands, stayed within my budget, and got back home an hour before my deadline. Mission accomplished.
But those errands, important as they were, will soon be forgotten and life will move on.
And you know what? By the time I got home, the snow had turned slushy and slid right off my big red balls. The fluffy white tops were no more.
Thankfully, I will always have these photos of my snow-topped spheres and the memory of my unexpected stop in the street to remind me of what truly matters.
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Some other stories about my big red balls:
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