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Of White Squirrels, condos
and life
By BARBARA DICKINSON
When my editor emailed me with the querulous statement…no,
strike that; a querulous question regarding my desires to
continue writing this column, I admit to pausing a moment on
the threshold of decision.
As I teetered at the door of coming to a conclusion, this
same editor threw the February deadline at me. Fortunately,
the date was some days after the hurly burly of Christmas
and the New Year. I immediately took this as a challenge and
the decision was made. For better or worse, dear readers, I
shall continue this mindless prattling for your amusement,
perhaps annoyance, and hopefully, a boost for your optimism.
As the television commercial states (over and over and
over), “Life Comes at You Fast!” How true! And in a way that
is what propels my thinking process as I sit down and
attempt to put into words the wonder of it all.
I have always been curious. Curious about everything: what
makes a clock tick, what keeps the euro so high against the
dollar, why does the city cut down one tree and leave two
others standing. You could even say that my curiosity
borders on downright nosiness. I definitely prefer to be
labeled “curious,” and full of wonder. That is why I am
never bored and never seem to have enough hours in my day.
And my days this coming year hint at being perilously close
to my days of 2006: hours at home with Spouse, many hours of
reading and writing, and a dab of painting (long neglected:
one of my resolutions is to resume my art work) and of
course, long walks with my beloved Fiona the Scottie. She
has become so much a fixture in my life that often I think
that is the only thing I do; walk her four times a day.
After being virtually abandoned for two years, Fiona has
settled seamlessly into our household. And as I would feel
toward any orphaned child or animal, it is an act of love
and concern that makes me want to do everything I can to
keep her content and happy. (Yeah, I know, I do complain on
the rainy mornings; Christmas morning ’06 was a real
bummer.)
These rambles with Fiona fuel my imagination and wonder and
pique my curiosity to no end. For instance: did you know we
had a White Squirrel living in South Roanoke? The fellow
really is rather special, a celebrity of sorts. Fiona and I
consider it a lucky day when we spot him. And as I watched
him last month I had to wonder: Do the other squirrels
resent him? Is he a Mr., or a Mrs.? Are there more than one
White Squirrels, or do I keep seeing the same one in
different locations? Obviously, this is a matter over which
I spend hours wondering.
Real estate interests me also. A walking tour of the
neighborhood gets one down in the heart of things. The
growth of the monumental Fairfax condominium project on
Jefferson Street is ever-interesting. I was watching when
the first truckload of windows arrived. Fiona and I watched
the first row of bricks climb up the facade. We exchange
friendly waves with the workmen, or rather did, until winter
weather took all of them inside. I am alert to the sale
signs when they go up, both SALE and SOLD. I can remember
the former families and wonder about the new ones moving in.
The passing parade of walkers easily could compose an entire
column. While most of my morning friends are fellow canine
owners, I have a nodding acquaintance with several runners.
Winter or summer, they are out there pounding the pavements.
Which is good!
So you see, dear readers, there is just so much to talk
about, write about, that I could not say “No more!” to my
friendly editor. I’ve already hinted at two or three of my
favorite topics in this first column of my third year:
houses on the block, the curious paradox of the White
Squirrel, people that I meet along the way. Stick with me if
you will; I promise 2007 will be a wonder-filled year for
each of us.
Barbara Dickinson is a freelance writer and author who lives
in South Roanoke.
Comments or questions? E-mail to comments@primeliving.net.
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