The day the music died ….. it didn’t.

cockatielSometime in late 2010, my husband dropped his iPod in the toilet.  It fell out of his pocket and I never asked for details because frankly I did not want to hear them. It was clearly gone, even more so after he went ahead and stuck it in a bowl of uncooked rice that he later couldn’t even find.

Fall of 2010 wasn’t so great at our house. We also lost Pebble, our cockatiel who’d been with us for twelve years. We never figured out whether Pebble was a guy or a gal, but he/she/it used to walk around on my shoulder and sing along with my husband and was part of the family. The music was well worth all the moths that came into the house with Pebble’s food, forcing us to put our cereal and other dry goods into Ziplock bags. Pebble left us shortly after the Ipod did and between the two losses there was far less music in our home for awhile.

But of course time moved on and the iPod was replaced and we started leaving dry goods in their original packaging and life was good. Our kitchen filled back up with new songs.

walk talk 3Last week my husband, chief cook at our house, made a wonderful crab creole and then discovered that we were out of rice. He couldn’t believe it.  We do eat a lot of rice. Rummaging into the darkest, furthest reaches of our pantry he found an old bag from the Pebble days, the little white grains firmly enclosed in not one but two Ziploc bags. Might be better than nothing, he reasoned, as he poured the grains out into a bowl to see if they looked okay.

More than rice came tumbling out, of course. There was the iPod from 2010, dry, happy and in perfect working condition. All the old songs were there, the battery was weak but fine. My husband plugged it into a charger and our sound system and by the time I got home from work he was happily singing along as he made some pasta to go with the creole.

A gift from a cherished pet from long ago? A testament to the fine engineering over at Apple? Or just a reminder that what appears to be gone and forgotten is sometimes still very much here? You pick. I’m too busy enjoying the music.

 

Coincidence? I think not ….

Psychedelic 5I’ve been caught up recently in the concept that writing novels is what I am meant to do. This is all started when my qigong instructor posted a blog about when he realized that teaching qigong was his mission in life, and I responded by telling him I had found mine too.

Isn’t that cool? But have I? And why am I so sure?

One of the problems with writing speculative fiction is that you read a lot of it, and it is full of tales to refute any theory you might have. I could tell you that every time I have run into a stumbling block with my writing, something unexpected has gently appeared to help me through it. Coincidence? Well, I have also read the “The Sparrow“, a wonderful book about space travel and inter-species misunderstandings and the foolishness of turning to small signs around you to decide that you are on the right path.

I’ve also read plenty of novels that compel me ask exactly who it is that I think picks these paths anyway, and to make me question whether he, she or it is both benign and competent for the task. There are a lot of theories out there, any many don’t bode well for those of us who are charging ahead feeling sure of where we are going.

None-the-less, I get up happily each morning certain that I am leading the life I am supposed to lead.  My health remains good, my outlook is great, I continue to be surrounded by love and I look forward to doing what I do. Coincidence? I think not.

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