Lists

Yesterday, I was talking about whiteboards. Well, I hate to say it but Dorothy's got one. It has magnets and is stuck on the side of the refrigerator. She leaves little notes of things that need to be taken care of. It's stuck up there for me. She expects me to look at it every time I pass by and do one of the things on the list. My reward is I get to mark off a thing when it's done. Dorothy is a big list maker. She has list for the cafe, home, and outside activities. That means one for each of her "clubs" and she belongs to several of  'em. I can see the merit in keeping a list, but sometimes I get a little put out with so much organization. I think life needs to sorta flow. When I told Dorothy this, she said that would be nice if the river was slow and easy going, but it's nice to be prepared in case you come upon rapids. Last night  we were in New Orleans and Dorothy wanted to eat at this fancy French Quarter restaurant. The waiter came up with this thick black folder and wanted to know if we wanted to see the wine list. I told him absolutely not. My little attitude led to a long conversation, across the swamp bridges and all the way home. Unfortunately, Dorothy's part of the talk consisted of a series of lists; lists of things I was doing wrong and needed to correct. I am heading out now for the hardware store to buy me my own personal whiteboard. I am gonna stick it right beneath Dorothy's and I am gonna write on it (in red): NOTHING FOR TODAY. THANK YOU VERY MUCH.