Every morning Zen-Den gets into Bullwinkle, his 12-year-old Lexus SUV, and drives downtown to go to work.  I wave goodbye from our doorstep with a mug of coffee in my hand– and a prayer of gratitude in my heart that he deals with traffic & office politics for both of us.

And me?  What do I do then?  Well, I go back inside the house, take care of the homestead, and write to my heart’s content.  Great job if you can get it.

HOWEVER, on occasion I do venture out of the house and wander around out there in the world.  And often times– well, most times— I don’t tell Z-D what I’m doing because, quite frankly, he doesn’t care about the minutiae of my daily life.  Nor should he.

So yesterday as I was pulling into a parking lot in front of a store I suddenly remembered that Z-D had told me that morning that he’d be out of the office– and in this particular part of town later in the day.  Which made me wonder if he’d parked in this lot, too.

After a bit of driving up and down the rows, I found The ‘Winkle parked by an empty spot in the lot.  Naturally I parked my car in that empty spot.  And then I looked around to find a piece of paper to leave a note on Bullwinkle for Z-D.  But, alas and alack, I had no paper in the car or in my purse.

[A Digression: How could that possibly happen?  Am I not the child of a compulsive note taker & a dedicated list maker?  This, my gentle readers, is an oversight on my part that is causing my parents to roll in their graves.  You mark my words.  Rolling.]

The only thing that I could find to write on in the car was a magazine insert.  You know, one of those annoying rectangles of advertising gibberish that fall out of all magazines.  So, reluctantly, I used it to write a short hi! note to Zen-Den.  Then, with it in hand, I got out of my car.

But the good Lord provides, doesn’t He?  Oh. Yes. He. Does.

And what did my eyes spy as I got out of my car?  I saw, almost under Bullwinkle’s back tire, an orange.  A bright, lovely piece of not-quite-rotten fruit that had rolled out of someone else’s car– and had come to a stop by The ‘Winkle.  So I picked it up, examined it for icky-ness, decided that it was serviceable as a fun addition to my note, and laid it against Bullwinkle’s windshield where Z-D would see it when he got into the SUV.  No missing it.

Then I quickly re-worded my note on the magazine insert by adding a bad pun– and a warning to not eat the fruit because I’d found it on the ground.  I secured the note under Bullwinkle’s windshield wiper blade and walked away from the scene.

CLEARLY, all that was left for me to do was to go about my day and wait to hear from the Hubster… which I knew that I would eventually.  In fact, about an hour later he phoned to congratulate me on getting his attention, to thank me for my gift of found fruit– and to ask what I was doing in that part of town.

And that, kids, is how Zen-Den and I roll here in the ‘burbs.  With mushy fruit and hasty messages.  Making the best of any situation and adding a few laughs along the way.

Good life, this one.  Orange Aren’t you glad to know me?