I had a different post planned for today, one that is mostly written, but have decided to change course. Yesterday, Sunday, was a typical day for us. Church in the morning, take-out for lunch, rest and writing in the afternoon, also a walk in the afternoon, leftovers for supper, a little bit of television, and reading, both aloud and silently.
As to writing, I did quite well on the Bible study I’m currently working on. It’s the same one I’m teaching to our adult Sunday school class. I managed to add over 1,650 words to it and organized the chapter I’m working on. I also found a couple of flaws in my Harmony of the Gospels for this passage of scripture, and was able to work that out and correct it. I still have to type the changes in the master file.
What made the day different is what happened on our walk. Both Lynda and I are not in as good a physical shape as we would like, so we are not walking very far. Plus, I’m limiting my exertions until I go through a heart procedure on April 19. But we went a little farther today, 1.26 miles according to the app on my phone.
It was a bright, sunny day, with a strong breeze, quite pleasant to walk in. Few cars were on the road to bother us. We saw another walker or two out, but not close. On the return leg we saw a man walking his dog. Well, we thought it was a boy until we got right up to him. He pulled the dog off to the ditch when a car approached in one direction and we in the other. As we came up to him and he remained in the ditch with the dog, ostensibly to let us pass, I flipped the switch and decided to talk to him.
Yes, I had to flip a switch inside of me. To talk with a stranger on the street is something I don’t do by nature, other than a quick nod and “Hello” and keep going where I’m going. It doesn’t really get any easier to do more than that.
But yesterday I did, and said, “What a handsome dog. Is it a beagle?” He replied with thanks and said the dog was part beagle. The dog made friendly lunges at us, putting his paws up high. He was never really still enough to let us pet him. We had a pleasant conversation with the man, lasting maybe three minutes. He was the son of people who lived down one of the side roads, just visiting and walking their dog for them. We never did get his name nor give him ours. I should have asked him his parents’ names and which of they two houses down that side street was theirs but, alas, didn’t think of that.
On with our walk. As we turned to go up the street that our circle connects to, a gray, short-bed pick-up passed us, a Ford Maverick, with the temporary plate of a new vehicle. Both of us remarked how quiet it was and wondered if it was electric. It pulled into the drive of a house we would soon pass. A man got out of the truck (not the neighbor who lives there, so apparently a visitor) and, being still 30 feet away and approaching him, I called out, “Quiet truck. Is it electric?”
I’m sure many of you would say something to the effect, you dummy, of course a Ford Maverick is electric. But I don’t follow vehicle names and models, so I didn’t know, nor did Lynda. He said yes, a hybrid. He had ordered it in July 2020, I think it was, and it had just come. He got it for the 2020 price and was pleased with the bargain. We talked about the truck and its features, benefits, gas mileage, performance, strengths, and weaknesses. It was a pleasant conversation.
I didn’t get his name, nor did he ask us ours. The conversation was a win-win item. We got information and he got to show off his purchase and knowledge of it.
Just a quiet day in the neighborhood, trying to break out of my natural introvert cell. Maybe some day I’ll move to learning names of people and remembering them, but for now, that’s enough.