Hang Time...

With cell in hand, I enter the number.
Press 1 for English.
There’s something wrong with that.

The voice lists the menu options: longer than Pinocchio’s nose.
I try to remember what options 2,3, and 4 were.
I’m sorry, but all customer service representatives are busy.
The average wait time is 8 minutes. Please hold...
Hmmmm.

Let’s see…in 8 minutes, I can pour another cup of tea,
polish my nails, knock down spider-sack webs from the
pool enclosure, or go online to order Poisonous Snake insurance.
No, not really, though it’s not a bad idea…

Hanging up after 7.5 minutes of listening to bellowing
recorded music that rivaled the mating call of a wild yak,
I decided that I just saved myself $15.00.

Making the rounds around the pool deck to my padded
chaise lounge, I suddenly feel something crawling along my arm.

Looking down, I see a medium-sized black spider, dangling
from a web, orbs glaring at me, its spindly legs dancing along my arm.
Yikes! I whack it off with a paperback book, then step on it.

Maybe I should opt for poisonous spider insurance…

Golden Dreams

Where have all the years gone, and so quickly?
These thoughts cross my mind every once in awhile,
especially now as I've had my 63rd birthday.
If I could, would I go back to an earlier time, back
to my teen years or my college days?

If I'd had a way of foretelling the future, I may
have done a few things differently, change my
direction a bit, but then again...
If I'd fallen in love at 19 with the handsome Italian
fella living next door, whom I felt was in love with me
at the time , I'd no doubt have a houseful of kids.
But, I might also be divorced—since that was his
status a few years ago, and still might be.


If I'd been more motivated to finish college and
get a degree, I'd be teaching English Comp right now.
When I'd moved to San Francisco in 1970, I was working
at a local store. From the entrance I heard,
“Nancy, what on God's earth are you doing working here?”
My jaw dropped.

It was my former college professor, Jean Wilkinson,
who'd had very high aspirations for me.
She'd kept many of the works I'd written, and thought
I would've pursued a writing career, at the very least.
Presently, I'm still writing: short stories and romantic
poetry,as well as this blog.

If I'd followed my parents to Oregon instead of moving to
the Bay Area, I would've never met my husband, a handsome
airline captain,and had our two children.
Nor would I have had the opportunity to meet Charlton Heston
or Bing Crosby who were customers of mine one day.

We now live in South West Florida, which has changed the
direction of my life. I'm a freelance photographer, living a dream
I've always had--sequestered in the back of my mind.
I'm an artist, too.

Life is often convoluted.
You're never sure what each day is going to bring.
Ah, to be a kid again...?
Not a chance.