Stuck in a Dark Parking Lot

I locked my keys in my car last night. As a friend and I left a book club meeting, I discovered my keys weren't in my purse or pockets. Mike is in California, so no getting keys from home. And because he's out of town, I'd made sure the house was locked up tight. The only way for me to get into my house, was to get the keys out. And the only way to do that, was to find a locksmith who would come to downtown Roswell after 9 pm.
An earlier blog this week http://bit.ly/nVSEe talked about the birds in our yard and the lengths we go to to attract them. I wondered that day about the friends I've gathered and surrounded myself with.
Last night, my wondering was answered, again. Cindy never made me feel guilty or stupid. Never sighed or looked at her watch as the minutes creeped by. The leader of the book club, a woman I barely know, insisted on driving us to the police station. Without a moments hesitation, she handed me her cell phone, because I forgot my phone at home. Catherine drove us to a couple places looking for help and never once acted like it was a chore. Cindy's husband, Mark, looked up 24-hour locksmiths and called her with numbers. I kept Cindy's phone through several calls from the locksmith as he tried to find the parking lot we were in.
Mike and I have never lived near family. From the very beginning we had to search out these kinds of friends. The ones that will drop what they are doing and cheerfully be there for you. We found them at church. From Jacksonville, to Tampa, to Chicago, to Marietta, we found family in the pews of a local church. Of course that's not the only place to find wonderful people, but if you're looking to add some to your life - I believe it's a good place to start.

Like a Disney movie

Hummingbirds dart around our yard, streaks of brown and green. Finches, looking like handfuls of lemon pudding, cross the deck in their scalloping flight pattern.
Yep, we attract birds like the princesses in Disney movies or that song from the seventies, "Why do birds suddenly appear, every time you are near? Just like me they long to be close to you." It's just that kind of love song, magical place at the Shostak house.
Or maybe the birds come because we have several finch feeders we keep filled with finch food. And the hummingbirds may actually be attracted to the bright red hummingbird feeder brimming with fresh sugar water. Yeah, on second thought, that's probably it.
Makes for a delightful time out on the deck. The finch feeders are long tubes with eight perches. The other day there were six finches and wrens on the perches and one big, red cardinal sitting in the saucer at the bottom. (All this frantic eating and waiting to eat reminds me of arriving at a McDonald's right behind a bus load of folks.)
So if the birds in our yard are not an accident, what about the people around me? Why are the friends I've gathered, gathered? Do I seek out friends with certain qualities? I know I stress that to my kids, but what about me?
Am I as intentional about attracting and choosing and sustaining the humans around me, as I am about the birds?

Quality or Quanity?

I'm starting Chapter 6 in my new book today. At this point in a book I'm not really sure where it's going. (See this previous blog for what that means.) http://kayshostak.blogspot.com/2009/07/welcome-to-my-world.html
So what I'm writing seems a little discombobulating and I'm not sure that it fits. Last night it hit me that a lot of what I'm writing right now will end up being taken out later because it's not needed to move the story along.
Barbara Kingsolver's book, "The Poisonwood Bible", tells the story through the eyes of five characters. At least that's what the final book is, but she initially wrote the entire book through each character's eyes. Then took parts from each of those to make the book. That's a lot of words to not use. But she wanted to know in her own mind and for her background what each character thought of each happening.
And that's what's going on with me - the scene I wrote yesterday may have been written just so I'd know what was going on at the house, but that may not be needed in the final story.
Made me think about how I often don't take the time to get to know the background and details of folks around me. I want to just get to the interesting part or the part that concerns me.
It's back to that time thing - it takes time to get to know my book characters or other folk. Time that might appear wasted, but makes everything else come into a clearer view.
It's that old argument about raising children, isn't it? Quality versus Quanity. Maybe that's it - to get to the Quality we have to invest some Quanity.
So where, and on whom, do I need to invest some Quanity today?

The Open Road

"The beauty of an open road is that it leads you in ways you'd never expect. Stay on the pavement, but also remember to put the top down and crank up the tunes!" My friend Montyne left that comment on yesterday's blog and I just can't get it out of my mind. It captures exactly what I'm feeling.
In "Gifts from the Sea", Anne Morrow Lindbergh journals about the different stages of life. I try to read this book every summer as the decades-old wisdom is always fresh. We are reading it this summer for our book club. (Anyone is welcome to join us at my house next Tuesday, Aug. 18 at 7 pm). Ms. Lindbergh writes about coming to the stage of life where you realize some of the dreams of youth aren't going to come true. How we react with sadness and regret in our culture, instead of celebrating a greater knowledge of ourselves and the freedom attached to realigning our perceptions and priorities.
When Lizzy turned 18 I celebrated the fact that I would never have a kid in juvy. May sound strange, but if we can't look at where we've come and what we've accomplished, we can't put the present or future in proper perspective.
Montyne's comment is for those of us that have some years and experience on us. We know the open road is challenge enough and not being able to see around the curves is life. We've learned getting off the paved road is costly. We know putting the top down is worth wind-blown hair, cause perfection isn't all it's cracked up to be. And if the radio is loud enough you can't think too much.
I have such wise friends!