On my way home, I learned that the corpse flower was in bloom. This only happens once a decade or so, and it was blooming within walking distance of our house, so of course we had to go. I dropped my plans for the evening (mostly, putting away laundry); gobbled a banana, a pluot, and a few walnuts; then, headed out on the diagonal with Erik.
“Of course” we went, but I can’t imagine making that important before reading Laura Vanderkam’s time management books. The idea that memories are worth making time for was shocking to me a month and a half ago, and it still feels fresh and surprising now. It would have been more comfortable and convenient to stay home, but where’s the fun in remembering an evening on the couch? Days blend together unless we stretch them with novelty.
Tonight, we walked diagonally through Golden Gate Park at dusk, talking about parenthood and wondering what the mammoth flower would smell like.