Where’s Waldo?

Image Courtesy of Pixabay

Day 317

Remember Waldo (Wally) — the cool dude with the red and white striped shirt? He was always lost or hidden or blending in with his surroundings just waiting to be found. At one point in my work life I had a 12 inch lucite wand filled with glittery flecks that sat on my desk. Somewhere in that wand was Waldo, waiting to be found. So many people sat across from me trying to find Waldo while we talked through problems or worked out solutions.

Today I am feeling a little like Waldo. Not really lost, but just here blended into my environment not really doing anything, not really lost, not really waiting to be found. I am just here with my thoughts.

Actually my thoughts are much like that thick sparkly liquid inside that wand. They are swirling. I get a glimpse of an idea or a thought and it slips away as easily as it appears. I sat down to write my blog and for the first time, I wasn’t really drawn to any particular subject to write about. I could not hold on to any particular idea long enough to gather my thoughts enough to write coherently about it.

Image Courtesy of Pixabay

I had a chat with a friend this morning which unleashed some thoughts and ideas. They are ‘percolating’, not ready for prime time. Our family played a parlor game we lovingly called ‘percolate’. The premise of the game is that you think of an action and the other people try to determine what the action is by asking questions. The word ‘percolate is used in place of the action. “Do you percolate inside?” Does everyone percolate?” “Can you percolate with friends?” All questions to narrow down and discover the action in question.

Right now I do not know what the action is, so my thoughts are swirling and percolating until they settle into something more tangible.

This seems more like my Saturday Stream of Consciousness writing. Maybe Linda’s word this week will be percolate. Or maybe Waldo.

10 thoughts on “Where’s Waldo?”

  1. Percolate – reminds me of Mom’s oh-so-strong coffee. The longer it percolated, the more robust and flavorful it became. At just the perfect moment, she would take it off the heat and serve it with love to friends and family. Nobody made coffee like Mom.
    Nobody is meant to percolate (sometimes ruminate?) forever either. Left in the heat too long, we become bitter and off the heat too long, we become cold and stale.
    Thanks for the memories!

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