Serendipity and the Band Pants

Here the morning train rumbles into town after the full, long and gray Thanksgiving weekend. The rainy days provided enough spells of drizzle to get the errands done but also enough cold and dank to do some long awaited inside tasks. And although I’m not sure why,  I’m thinking of a conversation I had a week ago about “band pants,” that elusive item asked for by boys ages 10-16,  all too often ON the day of the performance.

The young mother with whom I spoke was sharing a success story she’d had the day previous, and, happily, several days ahead of her son’s concert. I found myself regaling her with my favorite story of the ‘band pants need’ declared by one of my boys a mere 5 or so hours before performance time…and the “miracle” of walking into the nearest store in our town that had pants, and pulling off the rack the one black pair of pants in his size in the whole place. Still amazing.

Fast forward a week to this past Saturday when I found myself ramming the vacuum hose down behind the washer and dryer: definitely an inside task that hadn’t been done for several years judging by the outcome. For what emerged attached to the hose was a skinny black pair of waist 30 band pants. Today they are headed for the dry cleaners and a reuse store where I hope they live again.

Another serendipitous moment occurred last night as I consulted my organic cookbook for advice on making a base for asparagus soup. Earlier in the day I’d thrown on my “Gibbs” hoodie, sent to me by a dear friend: it happens to have all his rules on its back. Gibbs’ rules are so famous there’s an NCIS marathon devoted to them: which happened to run on Saturday. (this provided plenty of time for another indoor task: 3 hours of ironing through the annual seasonal clothes change.) But the serendipitous wasn’t the marathon or the rules: it was finding at the soup recipe a note from the same dear friend that sent the hoodie I was wearing! Are so many random things connected?

The sun shines brightly on this re-entry Monday, and I hope you’ll forgive my thoughts tracking more toward hoodies, soup, friends and band pants rather than the tasks up ahead. I’m grateful for these and much more. I’m even glad the train has just waited for the man running madly up the station steps.

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