[lit-ideas] Sunday Twofer
- From: David Ritchie <profdritchie@xxxxxxxxx>
- To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Sun, 28 Jul 2013 11:39:07 -0700
Sometimes one simply needs an excuse to sit still and look. On Christmas Day
2012 I slipped on lava on Maui and slit my shin. The cut was both long and
deep. When my wife was done piecing the sides together, I faced days of
sitting with one leg raised. Casting about for diversion, I ran across a book
in a second hand store, "Watercolors from the Heart," and thought, "How about
'from the shin?'" The book's paper pad had pages remaining, Lahaina's hardware
store sold me three brushes, a color picked for each inch of gash, a second and
smaller pad. (Also a Hawaiian flag, just because). Though the wound develop
an infection, it eventually closed, and while I'll do no further International
sock modeling, I'm fine with the color of the scar, and the paintings remaining.
I finished a day's writing and made some telephone calls. One daughter asked
if I wanted to join a trip to happy hour and a movie. This was a nice, but
with the other one gone and my wife committed to something, I glimpsed the
prospect of solitude and beer, maybe a DVD with dinner. I watched the evening
light on our trees. A memory from the week came to mind: when I asked my best
friend from primary school (who has moved to Lima) whether he would be a voice
at the other end of the phone if something were troubling the daughter of a
friend who will leave on Monday to pursue postgraduate study in northern Peru,
he mentioned that his second son...follow me now... who is studying Economics
at Edinburgh, had recently spent a year at the same Canadian university from
which this young woman just graduated. Since she studied Economics, I asked
her if they'd maybe run into one another, expecting the answer "no, of course
not; it's a big department." But in fact she knows two guys who went to high
school with the son of my friend. Small world. Deciding this would be the
right moment for a beer, I pulled an unknown ale from the fridge and left it to
warm a little on the counter while I search through the stacks of books on my
office floor for some appropriate reading. I thought I'd like to try something
new there too. An unread Nick Hornby popped up. I too the book and the beer
out to my chair in the yard and poured a little before checking the contents of
the label. It had a quotation from Nick Hornby. Is this the week for a
planetary twofer on coincidence?
David Ritchie,
Portland,
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