Wish You Were Here, Sort Of

This is my favorite area in my tiny kitchen:

Visually appealing. Superior functionality. A perfect liaison of organization and design offering measuring cups and spoons at the ready.

And then, there’s the wishbones*: symbols of my indecisiveness and overthinking, because I can’t make wishes. Birthday candles, holding ones breath through a tunnel, first star I see tonight. Forget about it.

There are too many needs. Too much at stake. If I told you what all went through my head at the “make a wish” stages of life – I could fill a book.

And with wishbones, two are playing the game. What if I win with the larger bone and I’ve wished for a new dishwasher and the loser wished for world peace? Not that I’d ever wish for stuff. I’d wish for bigger things: family-wide good health and happiness, but wait, not just my family, I must include friends, yes, friends and family, but what about strangers in need? Neighbors and countries?

And while I’m considering my wish, the candles have burnt down, the wishbone has broken and we’ve emerged from the tunnel.

Sometimes I just say eff it and wish for a good hair day.

*I feel I owe an explanation for my plethora of wishbones besides just the inability to make wishes. I bought pasture-raised chickens in bulk a while back. Six of ’em. They were delicious.**

** I’m taking wish requests. You can message me and I’ll take the first six that I see and wish on my wishbones on your behalf.***

***Note that I can’t guarantee that I will win the wishbone pull.****

****I won’t consider wishes that include any malfeasance or acts of sedition, or illegal acts. Or that will cause any harm against others.

PS By the way, we’re back at the ocean. The weather is gorgeous and razor clam season is in full swing! Wish you were here!*****

***** Well, some of you. I wish some of you were here. I’m actually enjoying the quiet time, so I take that wish back too. Unless you had your own space. Then we could just meet for a walk and dinner. So, I wish you were here to meet me for a walk and dinner, then leave. God I’m such an introvert. I wish I wasn’t such an introvert.******

****** No, that’s not true. I think the world needs all kinds of people. And it’s not like I’m a hermit. I get out. I can still talk to people. Ugh. I’m doing it again.