Spontaneous: Repair

At the bead store in downtown Portland.

Everything in my life seems to need repairing, including my soul, so I had signed up for a one-day retreat at Trinity Episcopal Cathedral.

When I arrived, I discovered the parish hall set up with big round tables. Oh, no!
Not a retreat with thought-provoking addresses and time for silence, meditation, journaling?
No, "small groups." Meet thy neighbor. "Sharing."
I confirmed my impression with the priest in charge and, spontaneously, walked out.

Wow. A whole free day. How would I spend it?

I began with a streetcar ride to Macy's to attempt replacing a cool backpack purse that is beyond repair. No luck, though I trudged through Formerly Fareless Square from shop to shop. Finally I gave up and starting taking pictures. Then I noticed a bead shop on my walk back to the streetcar, and went in. For ages I'd been carrying around some earring parts that needed repairing but it wasn't urgent enough to make a special trip.

This is the beautiful and charming young woman who helped me. She's been studying photography, too. She graciously allowed me to take her picture, and she made four pairs of earrings whole again, and I think she made me whole again also. I didn't have a retreat, but I had what Julia Cameron (apologies, Kendall!) calls an Artist Date.

I probably would dutifully have endured the church retreat, though I was already thinking that if it didn't please me I would leave after lunch. But I had TerriG's "Spontaneous" challenge buzzing in my brain, and it rewarded me with a gleefully spontaneous day.

Other highlights:
- Scribbler, street photographer, capturing an encounter between blue-gloved cops and a homeless man lying on the street. (They were courteous and concerned for his state and trying to be helpful as they got him up.)
- Lunch at the Pearl Bakery where I ran into a couple of friends I'd been missing.
- A stroll along the Willamette River looking for a fisherman friend. I didn't find his pier, but on the way I discovered the police horse stables and got a good photo of one of the horses.

At home yet another repair awaited me. A drawer pull broke, and my heavy Spanish-style chest is so sturdily made and tightly fitted that at first it appeared there seemed no way to open the drawer again. I even tried a plunger! But I persevered and finally, with a screwdriver in each hand, managed to get the job done. How to jury-rig a lasting fix remains to be dealt with. Over the years I've had to devise different solutions for each piece of hardware on the chest, including leather shoelaces.

But now I get to take a break. I'm about to head for mass, and with any luck I will get a good homily retreat address and an hour of soul repair.