This story starts with a broken cell phone. My cell phone; which I unceremoniously flung onto a concrete floor and then accidentally stepped on. In my defense, I was rushing through a pitch black, can’t-see-your-hand-in-front-of-your-face, barn. Also, I get the impression that everyone who has one of these fangled things does this at least once… right? The good news was: according to the phone plan, I was eligible for an upgrade! The bad news was: I had to wait six more weeks for that to be the case.
Interestingly enough, and to my surprise, during those six weeks I didn’t miss my phone – at all. In fact, I found myself reconnecting with the real world in a way I hadn’t, since– well, since I got a smart phone. No one could text me; no one could call me. For six weeks I exclusively communicated in-person, or via e-mail (which, of course, everyone else gets on their phones). Out of necessity, I found myself planning at least two days in advance for meetings, lunches, dinners, and friends. I could no longer just ‘check up’ on any passing thing I thought of. While waiting for take out, I found I had nothing to do in the restaurant but, well, sit and wait! Also, once I’d made plans for the day – that’s what I did. I wasn’t even once waylaid by a last minute suggestion or temptation to rearrange my entire schedule for someone else’s real or imagined need of me. This, was incredibly fantastic! Oh, the amount of things I got done in a day! I became, quite blissfully, unconnected. And I bet you can imagine, it didn’t take very long for me to start considering not replacing that cell phone. The idea was so tempting, and took such root in my heart, that I threw every excuse in the book at it and managed to stretch those six weeks to ten.
Towards the end of those amazing weeks though, reality started shouting more loudly and more insistently. With family close by, not having a phone didn’t seem very practical. Especially since said family being able to call me, is the primary reason I have a cell phone. Really – they’re the only people who call me.
Ultimately, my sense of responsibility got the better of my passing fantasy of a more Zen-like existence. So this past weekend, off I went to get a new cell phone. With my mother. It should be noted here, that my mother is a master of diversion. If you make it known to her that you have limited time, an agenda, and a deadline, you will suddenly find that you have left your own car (i.e. primary mode of escape) in a random parking lot, and are sitting, captive, in the passenger seat of hers, vaguely remembering that this happened to you last time, and not being able to remember how that turned out.
Subsequently, about 10 minutes into our drive to the phone store, I looked up from whatever magazine article she desperately needed me to read, to discover that we were entering the parking lot for the local Home and Garden show, which just happened to be going on that day, and just happened to be on our way! Naturally, like any good fairgrounds event, the show came with shopping, wine, and sample cocktail smoothies. By the time we left, we’d not only bought herbs for the whole growing season, but had in tow several future Christmas and birthday gifts.
Since it is well known that time does not exist inside concrete buildings, it was now late in the day, and both of us discovered we were incredibly hungry. This led us to the briefest of stops at the phone store (mission accomplished), followed by an incredibly long and complicated quest for a cell phone cover, and – well past dinner-time – finally on to drinks and tapas at a recently discovered wine bar. We must have looked ravenous, or maybe like we just really needed to sit down. Because despite the place being packed, we were treated to Goodfellas style seating (where they bring the table out in pieces, set it up, put a tablecloth on it, furnish it with silverware, plates, and candle, pull over a couple chairs, and turn around and say, “Your table, ladies.” Really – this actually happened.). We spent several more hours of the day there, no doubt on account of the excellent wine. Only as we were leaving did I remember: hey, I have a phone! I called home (with my new phone!), and relayed the news that yes, I knew how late it was, and yes, Mom had happened, and yes, I was alright, and yes, I would be along soon.
The main point of this story being that one of the little plants I nabbed during my unplanned trip to the Home and Garden show was an absolutely darling little hyacinth. When I bought it, its bright green leaves were towering well over the top of the flower buds, which you could just about barely tell were going to be purple. I set it with its herb friends in the only sunny window we have, gave everybody some water, and hoped for the best. The next day, our kitchen smelled nice and green, with all the pretty growing things. Two days later, I came home in the evening from work, and upon opening the door my nose instantly alerted me: the hyacinth had bloomed! Every year, I forget what a truly stunning (and I mean ‘knock-you-over’) smell these little plants produce. This one is absolutely the fastest blooming to date, and might be the strongest scented as well. The fragrance of this one tiny plant has certainly pervaded every room of the house, including the upstairs. It might be my imagination, but I’m starting to be able to get a hint of it even from our front porch! At the moment, the smell has the side effect of making me really want a glass of wine, and some tapas olives… I might have to get another one.