This is one of those weeks where none of the prompts seems to call out to me and say “write me!” So, I’ll choose the one that says “write a post inspired by the word: accident,” hoping that I might run into an idea by accident while I ramble.
I’m sure you’re familiar with Bob Ross, who had a show called The Joy of Painting (as in portraits and still lives, not as in interior decorating) on PBS for a number of years. He used to say, “There are no mistakes, just happy accidents.” Notice he said happy accidents, which are different from the regular kind, like falling down the stairs or running your car into someone or something.
I have a friend, Bernard, who used to drive me to the airport back in my traveling days. One day we had just left my subdivision and got in an accident with a lady who ran a red light. She thought it was all right to turn left because the person in the lane beside her turned right, which you can do if the light is red and have checked to make sure it’s safe. Anyway, she hit Bernard’s car on an angle. She was driving a Ford Tempo, he was driving a Cadillac Sedan de Ville. Her car was fine; Bernard’s was totaled. Fortunately, none of us was hurt, though Bernard caught the airbag right in his face, so he was stunned for a while. I missed my flight, but that didn’t matter; I was more worried about him.
The only kinds of accidents I get into anymore are the kind where I do something on the computer that I hadn’t intended on doing. This morning, for example, I kept shutting down my browser every time I thought I was just closing a tab. After about the fifth or sixth time, I decided I had had enough and did something else. It’s aggravating, yes, but not a painful accident.
I don’t know if you’d consider this an accident, but one year around this time Mom was talking to one of her colleagues at school, who told her that she put the Thanksgiving turkey in the night before and cooked it overnight at a low temperature (like 200° F). Mom thought this was a great idea and put the turkey in the oven at 10:00 Wednesday night. When she got up at 7:00 the next morning, the turkey was done. Thing was, she had invited a couple of her sisters over for Thanksgiving and said that we’d eat at 4. She called them, they had a good laugh about it, and we had Thanksgiving lunch instead of dinner. The turkey was all right, a little dry maybe, and when one of my aunts went to get it out of the roasting pan, the wings and legs came off in her hands. But it was good, as I recall.
I hope you have a wonderful and accident-free Thanksgiving, and that your turkey isn’t done at 7:00 AM.