I have an embarrassing problem. To me, anyway. I can’t tell directions. Not even left from right unless I really think about it. And even then it doesn’t always help. Good thing I didn’t grow up to be a map maker or a bus driver. When I had to drive to Iowa City for a fiction program in Iowa City one summer, I had to backtrack, because I made the mistake of trusting my gut and turning the wrong way. TWICE!
Luckily, I married Floyd who has a compass attachment in his brain. He likes to say it developed because his dad, God rest his soul, didn’t know his directions either. Once when Dad got totally turned around in Denver, Floyd risked his young neck by logically pointing out that the mountains “are in the west.”
My problem became part of our marital history on another Denver trip when Floyd and I had only been married about a year and he asked me where we’d turned before to get to Cherry Creek shopping center. I did what I always do in directional dilemmas. I relied on a landmark. “At the building with the glass bricks.” From then on “glass bricks” was Floyd’s buzzword for my infirmity.
Glass Bricks disorder was probably why I hated square-dancing so much, too. I could Allemande Left only if I saw someone do it first. But I was a total fail at the Left and Right Grand. I was always reaching out with the wrong hand until a kindly woman pointed out that if I held out my left hand, thumb extended perpendicular to the fingers, it made an “L.” Woo-hoo! I had a tool for knowing which hand was my left! I still hated square dancing. Probably because I felt like a total weirdo in that cupcake-shaped puffy skirt! But at least I had a new way of recognizing my left from my right.
Thankfully, I’ve been able to learn my directions at home. On the farm, our house faced south. With few trees, I could see the shoulders of the rolling hills four or five miles away as I sat at our kitchen table enjoying the sunlight shining through my favorite blue glass mug. Now our living room windows face east so I’ve seen many beautiful mornings dawn from the comfort of my recliner.
Whenever I go anywhere unfamiliar, I try to study a map ahead of time so I can at least recognize some landmarks and a street name or two. Google Maps has really been my life-saver, except when it gets confused itself and sends me on wild goose chases.
Though my Glass Bricks deficiency can be irritating, I’m glad it continues to entertain Floyd. I rationalized it the other day when we were discussing another of my Glass Brick incidents. “I may not know my directions or my left from my right, but as long as I can keep moving forward, that’s all that matters, right?”
Or is that left…?”
Hugs,
Dale
Freebies!
Keep those comments coming! If you submit one to any post from now until the end of November, I will put your name in the hotdog hat for one of two prizes. Multiple comments means multiple chances! The first prize will be another dachshund book mark and the other I’ll announce in my newsletter the day after Thanksgiving. I’m interviewing someone perfect for the holiday and I can’t wait to reveal who!
Featured Artist
My friend, Greer, is the featured artist this week with her prize-winning pumpkin! Students at her school were to design one based of a favorite book. It’s easy to see why her pumpkin character won first place. Anyone want to guess which book this character is from?
Where in the World?
Can you guess the Kansas tourist destination where I took this picture of an ogre’s right hand?
P. S. Thanks, everyone, for understanding about this newsletter being late. I appreciate you more than you’ll ever know.
My landmark in Denver was a drive in theater, until they took it down. Then I was lost 😠