Ideas, thoughts and words all come together at times when I am no where near my computer. Like in the grocery with all the people swirling around as if the world is coming to end and they must, simply must, be first to pay and be out of the store. Always a rush there or sometimes a sauntering soul lost among the aisle of so many brands, so many choices and prices that boggle the mind. Meandering while others push by pursuing the importance of their life. Their day.
It does however offer food for thought…oh gosh, no pun intended, although appropriate I suppose. The way people dress, the many hands that cross over the packages, the produce. The wonder of the lives the hands lead. The over abundance of extra stuff a grocery now carries to entice and make that extra buck. The wonder of why would one buy a dress in the grocery. Or a pair of shoes, a hat. Why.
Thoughts always turn back to when I lived in Europe and while there were large markets as well for the general use stuff. One was more incline to shop daily at the local market. To find fresh produce for the evening dinner. Fresh milk, cheese and eggs from the local farmers. There was a much more wholesome feel to all of it and so much more enjoyable. Even if one was in a rush, it did not seem that way in the local market. Selecting produce was a much more gracious and beautiful process. Tucking the produce, the cheese in a market basket brought from home and kept for just that purpose. I still have the basket I used. Look at it from time to time and recall those enjoyable little outings each day to the market.
So I look around when I am at the grocery and think of a thousand topics to write about. Some would be more controversial then this blog is intended and others probably sillier then I am incline to write. Still it is a gold mind for a writer.
Thoughts also come as I am driving and always have when I created publicity campaigns for a living long ago. Ideas swirl as the wheels round the pavement. Perhaps it is the solitude of the drive or the sense of moving that prompts the topics to perhaps turn into a blog.
Like in times past, writing thoughts are never far from my mind and always seem to come randomly when time does not allow to pursue full blown. Yet there is a stockpile at the grocery. In the countryside. As the day unfolds. There is always a topic to find to share.
And so it is the musings of life where ever those happen to appear.