A CHANCE ENCOUNTER!

     Sometimes an unexpected whirlwind adventure comes knocking at your door in the form of an intriguing new friend, and you jump at the opportunity to meet.  Rarely do people look at me and expect bold initiatives.  I seem to have that "settled in, accept what life has to offer look."  But looks are deceiving.  The truth is often, that although I can do routine things as well as anyone, I yearn for a whole lot more.  So, when the opportunity presented itself to spend six days hanging out with a new friend I'd only met months before, I jumped at it.  As crazy as some of my friends might have thought me to be, although never expressed, I knew intuitively that it would be a wise and wonderful choice, and it was.  The laughs were never ending and the chats were priceless.  The poignant and humorous book shared and read out loud late at night and early in the morning was a new and gratifying experience.  It brought up thought-provoking discussions about life and choices we make. We read the last chapter on the morning of my friend's departure.
    
     From trips to the Mall of America, Minnehaha Falls, the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum, nature centers and beautiful parks, thrift stores, a boat ride on the St. Croix River, and a stroll down main street of a historic Minnesota town, it was one of the most treasured weeks of my life.  Of course I shouldn't forget to mention the "lost" factor.  At times I know my friend Sandy thought I was perpetually lost, and not just in direction--sometimes in focus as well.  Otherwise how could I explain a trip to a professional baseball game that never existed?  I had talked the week before about the Minnesota Twins playing Cleveland at Target Field during Sandy's visit.  Not even close!  Not only did the Twins game at Target Field not exist, but they were playing against the Yankees in New York.  How could that be?  I had even checked the paper for the time.  So sure I was!  So we ventured to downtown Minneapolis and found ourselves wondering how it could be so quiet if there was a Twins game.  Sandy figured it out, but I came around slowly, and a little too stubbornly.  They wouldn't postpone the game, I said.  It was a perfectly beautiful day.  Pulling into the ramp parking lot told a different story.  We could have parked anywhere we wanted since there were only three other cars visible. I was still in disbelief.  As we walked the short distance to the stadium, we couldn't stop laughing, wondering how this was truly happening.  But Sandy had already figured out that I was more than a little quirky, and definitely not as organized as she had once thought.  Real life meetings tell far more than online stories.  But there was more . . . As we looked at the empty stadium seats and former Twins stars, we spotted two ticket windows.  The one gentleman we noticed confirmed the obvious--there was no Twins game; they were in New York.  He must have thought we'd been drinking heavily because our laughter had reached a fever pitch, and all that time both of us were desperately in need of a bathroom.  Thankfully there was one still open on the premises.  Saved in one respect, at least.  On the way back to the car, Sandy found a bright red hat just lying aimlessly on the grass.  It matched her colorful shirt perfectly.  A nice, unexpected memento from an unexpectedly non-existent game.  The statues on the plaza of famous former Twins made inviting poses for the zany, mischievous friend from North Carolina.  Even Calvin Griffith, the former Twins owner, was pose-worthy.  At one point, Sandy, fully joking, said to me, "Lynda, you're going to owe me all day for this."  Knowing I could never live down the embarrassment, I decided to embrace that part of me that's sometimes hard to explain.  Luckily, Sandy took it all in stride and had plenty to tell when she returned home.  That story merits countless retelling.  We filled up the afternoon with trips to thrift stores and a fine Italian restaurant.  It was almost comforting to see that our waiter was also in the midst of an error-prone day, for which he offered numerous apologies.  He completely forgot my entrée and never bothered to check back with us after taking our order.  I didn't complain much, knowing that I had screwed up more than anyone that day. 

     And now it's all a wonderful, treasured memory of six delightful days with a newfound friend.  And that special friend sometimes reminds me that "life is an ever changing canvas."  We proved it that week.