As The Years Go BY

For many years I have belonged to a book reviewers’ group that meets at 1 p.m. on the third Wednesday of the month to socialize over dessert and then hear a review of a book by one of our members. There was a time when we shared lunch, but we have decided that just dessert is much easier.

Today was my turn to host our gathering. I got everything ready, then decided I had barely enough time to walk for a hour before my guests arrived. I got home about 12:30, in plenty of time to start the coffee and serve up the dessert—or so I thought.

On my kitchen table I found a note saying: “I got no answer so walked in, called and searched the place, saw that everything was ready, and wondered what was up. Then I left.”

Uh oh, I thought. I tried without success to call the writer of the note, and decided to just hope for the best. Just after 1 p.m., the note writer showed up. “Sorry. I got the time mixed up and came an hour early.”

A few minutes later, the phone rang. It was the day’s presenter. “Have you changed your house somehow?” she said. She’d been up and down the street but had been unable to spot it so had gone home. “Could have sworn it was white stucco, but I see that it is red brick,” she said when she arrived close to 1:30.

“Did you have a phone in the car with you?” I asked.
“Yes. But it was dead.”

Everyone appeared to enjoy dessert and the book discussion of How to Eat Well and When was a hit. I set a timer because someone had a time restriction. “28 seconds to go,” I announced. And then we talked some more.

We planned a place to have our February gathering and chose someone to review a book. 

As my friends made their way out the door, I caught one who had left her coat behind. Another left her cell phone on the coffee table.  “If my behind weren’t so big, I’d forget it as well,” she commented, (actually using a three-letter word for the body part in question).

As I began clean-up, the only “left-behind” I found was a mechanical pencil. I put it in my pencil pot. I doubt if the owner will miss it.

Did I mention how many laughs we had or how much we appreciate each other as the years pile up and we get goofier and goofier as time passes? 

Submitted by Libby James

By: Bonnie Shetler