I was driving the other day on the road my house is off of. It's a fairly long road lined with plenty of houses, pastures, and livestock. When we first moved out here, the road was so long that I couldn't remember all of it. It was like driving on a new road every day. Around every turn there was something I felt like I'd never seen before.
I realized just yesterday that I can now see the entire road in my mind's eye. I know what is around each turn. I know where the people who have the two new calves live (I also know that they had another calf that they raised before these two. They ate it.) I know where the little white church with funny stained glass windows is, and I know that they post humorously common-sense things on the sign outside (the last one was 'Get hooked on Jesus, not drugs.') I know where to watch for deer. I know where the people who drive their horses up and down our road every weekend live.
When I thought about the people who drive their horses up and down our road, I started thinking about when people used to drive horse-drawn carriages. I wonder if they could have seen an entire road in their mind's eye. I may think I see the details, but compared to what they would have known about the road, I would have seen a big picture. People who drove horses would have been acquainted with every stone and blade of grass on the road. They might have gone to the church with the funny windows. They probably personally knew the family that ate the cow. Could they see the big picture too, or would the details of the road have been so many that everything else was drowned out? I wonder random things like this...
On a less serious note, I heard my brother and my sister having this conversation today while we were working in the barn:
Grant: Hurry up Ansley. We need to get inside, I have Valentine's Day things to do.
Ansley: Oh yeah, what do you have to do? I have to bake a cake and decorate the table.
(Ansley is good at things like this.)
Grant: Well, I have to take a bath.
Ansley: That isn't Valentine's Day. That's everyday.
Grant: Well then, I guess I just have Valentine's Day every day.
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2 comments:
Grant makes me laugh. My favorite conversation with him was last year, when we were skiing. He threw a snowball in my face.
Your dad: Grant, I told you not to throw snowballs in people's faces.
Grant: I wasn't aiming for her face; I was aiming for her head.
Your dad: Well, from now on, consider her head and her face the same thing.
Interesting to know.
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