Come, take a tour of my brain with me.
Here's the map:
Step on into the foyer of my mind; as you take off your shoes, we can discuss whether it is "foy-yay" or "foy-yer". We'll hang up that conversation with our coats, and I'll observe whether you toss your shoes on the jumbled pile of miscellaneous footwear, or set them in a neat left-right pattern by the wall.
Enter the kitchen, where new ideas are cooked up hourly. We'll toss a bunch of word salad into the blender and- voila! We have us some Brainstorm Blend. Simmering on the stove is some stuff I've been stewing over- it ought to be good! We'll toss in some "sneezenings" (as our five year old says), and serve up some Deep Thoughts to chew on for awhile. We'll lay a number of things on the chopping block; when our discussion gets out of hand, we'll just cut it out.
Now that we've ingested things that will take a bit of time to digest, we'll sneak in, quiet as a mouse, to the Book Gallery. What's outstanding about this library is that it contains only books that will be written; none that actually have been. There's the binder of my Dad's stories that I plan to edit and print. There's a kids' book about people who live in all 50 states. There's a book with all the songs I've written and the stories behind them. There's a book titled "Through My Dirty Window." There are random papers flitting around with unfinished profound thoughts, observations, acronyms, and lists- lots and lots of lists. The walls are plastered with crayon art, train doodles, and amateur watercolor paintings.
Although the Book Gallery is intended to be a place of blessed quietness, where one can settle in for a silent night, the halls are suddenly decked with balls and hollering. A young lass clickety-clacks past in her tap shoes, back and forth, back and forth, up and down the halls. Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack. A rubber bouncy ball bounds from one end of the hall to the other. Hot Wheels vroom down the racetrack. The piano drums out Charlie Brown and Snoopy from the music room.
The music room! Come- now is the time to worship! There's actually quite an assortment of instruments. Most of them were short term enchantments of mine, but I'm pretty sure I'll pick them up again- someday when my arthritic fingers will need something to keep them agile. A violin that you can fiddle with-after we replace a couple strings. My dad's harmonica. A guitar. Another guitar. A couple recorders. A piano. A piano keyboard. A clarinet. A tambourine. A ukulele.
After we make some joyful noise, let's step it up a bit, and visit the gym. My expertise is mental gymnastics, but there is a stationary bike for going in circles, and a treadmill on which I tread lightly. There's quite an assortment of bands and light weights. There are balance boards and a step platform. Most of these wonderful plans have come to a standstill. I really do need to step it up a bit.
That's really only a tour of the ground level, but since the elevator doesn't quite make it to the top, that's where we'll have to end for today.
Good Day!
