Mystery from the Old West
In the old, black and white Westerns, there was often a scene, when a baby was being born to some woe-begone frontier family. The kindly old doctor, with his little black bag, hovered around the bed.
The mother-to-be groaned in agony and the man of the house nervously paced the floor. Invariably, the doc, would lower his horn rim glasses, turn to the father-to-be and say, “Boil water, son, lots of water.” And off the poor guy would go to fire up the wood stove.
I was always uncertain as to why this instruction was given to the bewildered and worrisome husband. Now I understand. It was to give him something to do while nature took it’s course. By the time the water boiled, the baby was born, and crying lustily in the next room. (I have often told my kids to go “boil some water.” Having heard me tell this story many times, they know exactly what I mean—when you’ve done all you can, busy yourself with some needed task.)
I thought of that frontier scenario as I tried to pass the time waiting for the election returns to unfold. Yes, I needed to boil some water. But boiling a big pot of water didn’t seem like a practical option unless I had a lobster on hand, which I didn’t.
An Afternoon in the Park
My water boiling took the form of an outing—a drive through the park with Russ. I was so excited! I pulled off the sweatshirt I was wearing—the one with the pizza stains on it. Instead, I donned a spiffy sweater and added a color coordinated mask from my fall collection. I replaced my scuffed up tennies with comfy walking shoes. Russ said it was breezy outdoors, so I threw on the lightly-quilted coat I got on sale from REI last winter and had no chance to wear.
As we drove through the park, I could tell the brilliance of the trees had faded somewhat, but there were still splashes of color. Besides I saw people! They were biking, running, strolling, eating, golfing, playing ball. Enjoying the day.
So here are a few park photos to enjoy as you pass the time waiting for the birth of a new day.