Preparedness

I don’t know that I excelled at it in Girl Scouts.  First of all, I lost my “wings” in my flying-up ceremony from Brownies.  Then I got this woman who hated kids, weighed 300 lbs and never got off her chair, and had sweat stains all the way down her shirt.  We were all on pins and needles waiting for her to yell at someone.

The first badge I went for was sewing.  Our leader called all the girls around to see what a horrific job I did and they all laughed.  Yes, that was leadership for girls back in the day.  I stayed because I thought selling cookies was glamorous.  All I did was knock on the doors of all the neighbors I knew down the street.  Then I quit Girl Scouts.

Now scouts aren’t allowed to go door-to-door but their moms help them outside supermarkets and dads sell them at work.  But preparedness was the topic, I digress.

The Girl Scouts were supposed to teach me preparedness, as it was somewhere in the pledge.  I learned it on my own, mostly after I went off to college and had to learn things myself.  Junior year we got an apartment and I cooked every night and never had to clean a dish.  My roommates were astonished that I could make pasta with tomato sauce and a little ground beef, and that I could make brownies from scratch!

Then I ended up in a professional world where a large view was essential as were the details.  I thrived.  I withered when bosses didn’t let me do my job or second-guessed everything I did.

Tomorrow my husband’s mother comes to town for a week.  She’s a wonderful lady, led a farmer’s life and is the most prepared woman in the world.  If there was a major storm we’d go there and she could feed a number of people for at least a month out of her chest freezer.  Yes, I go to Whole Foods nearly every day and talk to the butcher and decide on dinner.

This woman puts me to shame yet I have to cook for her for a week.  Luckily she thinks I’m a good cook.  The house is clean, I’ve a tentative menu and will at least have two days of food on board before she lets me know what she’s in the mood for that day.

As to planning other things, several entertainment venues have arisen and she’s the guest so she gets to say what she wants to do each day.  This, my dear readers, is the ultimate in planning: plan not to plan.  Release control.

I’m still nervous, until she gets here then it’ll be a gab-fest.  Clean beds, sheets, towels, house.  Clean and brushed out dog, six times brushed and she’s still shedding.  I may have to vacuum again…

Big picture of all life can offer, and eye for detail.  I’ve got it.  Wish me well, Dee