Just my imagination, running away with me

My mother used to tell me that I have no imagination. Maybe that was her way of expressing disappointment that I didn’t share her enthusiasm for arts and crafts. She loved knitting, making elaborate Halloween costumes, weaving, basketry, arranging flowers. I, on the other hand, can stick a bouquet in a vase. And a few years ago, I learned to knit socks. But after finishing two pairs, I decided it was too labor-intensive and I’d just buy my socks instead, like most people do.

Maybe my mother accused me of having no imagination because she was a risk-taker, and I am a rule-follower. My husband told me once that I might be a happier person if I viewed rules as “suggestions.” The older I get, the more I see his point. My daughter, Jessa, also bemoans my rule-following nature, especially in the kitchen. I typically follow a recipe closely; she gets the general idea, then creates something uniquely her own. At the piano, I’m a rule-follower as well, playing the notes on the page rather than improvising.

I have my moments, though. When Jessa lost her first tooth, for example, and tucked it under her pillow for the tooth fairy, I swapped the tooth for a quarter, a dime, and a nickel. Nothing new there. But I also sprinkled a trail of glitter from her second-story bedroom window, across the carpeting, to her bed. The next morning, Jessa was pleased with the money, but she was enchanted by that fairy dust.

This is my 100th post in a little over 2 years of blogging as the Volunteer Pianist. I’ve tried to cover a wide range of topics so that there’s something for everyone—the same approach I take in preparing music programs for my senior audiences. My blog topics have ranged from earworms to fireflies, cowboy songs to boogie woogie, Allan Sherman to Nat King Cole.

I’ve written about my Irish grandfather and my German grandmother. I’ve described volunteer experiences that amused me and confused me, and a few that made me want to go home. I’ve told love stories and—because they seem to be my readers’ favorites—more love stories.

So it turns out that I do have an imagination. Even if I don’t plan to knit socks anytime soon.

Copyright © 2015 by Paulette Bochnig Sharkey
All rights reserved.

This entry was posted in Reminiscences, Volunteering and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Just my imagination, running away with me

  1. Sharon Regan says:

    Once again an enjoyable blog. Keep ’em coming! Sharon
    P.S. We should do dinner again soon.

  2. Riff Noggin says:

    Happy 100th sprinkling of fairy dust for the enchantment of your faithful readers!!

    What a wonderfully imaginative way to engage Jessa’s magical childhood realm. Bet that is a cherished memory!

  3. Aunt Evie says:

    MY mother used to tell me she was sure they’d given her the wrong baby when I was born because your dad was so beautiful, and I was ugly. (How to build your child’s self esteem, but you know Grandma B was never the most tactful.) Anyway, in my family we always called YOU “Miss Perfect.”

  4. June ritchie says:

    I also remember you telling about the book of memories you saved for Jessa. I thought ,I wish I would have thought to do something that creative for Jen!

  5. Jessa says:

    I LOVED the fairy dust! And my room could still be cleaner. 😉

  6. Haha! The fairy dust was one of my proudest parenting moments 🙂

  7. Mary Arndt says:

    You’ve always been my second mom. I have always looked up to you and wanted to be more like you. I am a rule follower and a rule breaker, sometimes I’m creative and sometimes I can’t find a creative thought in my head. Your blogs always help spark my imagination!

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