My thinking then was that instead of throwing them away, why don't I save them for feeding swans at, say, the Botanic Gardens? Since the school holiday had just started and it would be at least 3 weeks before WY needed to return to school, we would definitely be able to find time to go to the Botanic Gardens, right? If it were difficult to take leave on working days, then there would be the weekends, correct?Perhaps, we could even prepare some snacks and go on that picnic which WY has been asking for for so many months now! :) Wow, such a great idea!
And so, those 2-3 slices of bread found their way to the chiller compartment in the fridge. As the days went by, a few more slices were added to those first 2-3 slices. Then, another few more were added. At last count, there was a total of 13 slices.
Last night, I threw away the whole bag of saved bread. And as I did so, I felt very upset with myself. Not sure how to describe this feeling but I felt very lousy.
No, it wasn't so much about 'wasting' the bread (they were leftovers which would have been discarded anyway). It was more like.... a lot of "why?" kind of self-reproach.......
Why did I not go ahead to bring WY and WF to the Botanic Gardens to feed the swans? Why did I procastinate on that picnic that WY had been suggesting for so many months now?
It had been a good 3-4 weeks break from school, and yet somehow I had let the holiday just slip by without taking the boys on this simple, fuss-free outing. And now that school has started its new term, it would be even more difficult to arrange for a weekend outing because there are all the enrichment classes to take care of.
Why didn't I make more effort to work this into the school holiday?! Couldn't I have gone ahead to bring the boys to the Gardens even if it meant doing it alone and even if it meant we had to take public transport?!
Why?! Why did I allow myself to depend on others for transport?! Why was I under the illusion that company, especially uninterested company, was necessary?! Why?!..... sigh.........
In a way, it was fortunate that I hadn't told WY or WF this plan to save the bread to feed the swans. If I had done so, then there would have been so much more disappointment. (Of course, you could say that I am now letting the cat out of the bag, lah - WY reads my blog every now and then.)
WY and WF had had a go at feeding swans/ducks at some lakes when we went to Switzerland and I remember that we all had so much fun doing it. WF, especially, would chuckle non-stop because it was great fun to see the swans snap up the pieces of bread that he had thrown into the water. He would keep running to me for some more bread because his little hand could hold just that much of bread at any one time.
At Lucern, I remember, WY was hurling the pieces of bread which we had broken from our tea-time snacks, as far away as he could so that some swans further away from us could also be fed. And I had to constantly 'nag' at him to be extra careful not to fall into the water while doing this! (Everyone has heard all about how he had fallen into the koi pond while feeding koi, right?!)
The fun was simple, but definitely memorable. The only pity then was that we did not have enough bread with us all the time, to continue feeding the happy swans which kept coming close to us.
Now, back at home, there were a good 13 slices of bread and yet, we fed no swan. No swan at all, in the whole of the school holiday.
It says a lot, doesn't it?
2 comments:
The Mayonnaise Jar & 2 Cups of Coffee
When things in your life seem almost too much to handle;
when 24 hours in a day are not enough;
remember the mayonnaise jar and the 2 cups of coffee...
A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some
items in front of him.
When the class began,
he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise
jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls.
He then asked the students if the jar was full.
They agreed that it was.
The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured
them into the jar.
He shook the jar lightly.
The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf
balls.
He then asked the students again if the jar was full.
They agreed it was.
The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it
into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else.
He asked once more if the jar was full.
The students responded with an unanimous "yes."
The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under
the table and poured the entire contents into the jar,
effectively filling the empty space between the sand.
The students laughed.
"Now," said the professor as the laughter subsided,
"I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life.
The golf balls are the important things - your family, your
children, your health, your friends and your favorite
passions---
and if everything else was lost and only they remained;
your life would still be full.
The pebbles are the other things that matter;
like your job, your house and your car.
The sand is everything else---the small stuff.
"If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued,
"there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls.
The same goes for life.
If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff,
you will never have room for the things that are important
to you.
"Pay attention to the things that are critical to your
happiness.
Play with your children.
Take time to get medical checkups.
Take your spouse out to dinner.
Play another 18.
There will always be time to clean the house and fix the
disposal.
Take care of the golf balls first
--the things that really matter--
Set your priorities.
"The rest is just sand."
One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the
coffee represented.
The professor smiled.
"I'm glad you asked."
"It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life
may seem; there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee
with a friend . "
------Simple but true right?----
Certainly true. But not new.
Plus, wrong target audience.
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