A few weeks ago, I traded my pony for funds to help me purchase the Tugboat Book. At the time, I was reminded pioneer women never give up their ponies. My reply? It was my back-up pony I traded. Not to worry, I keep my original pony at all costs. (No photos, please.)
Funds were handed over to Amazon. Book was handed over to UPS. UPS showed up the day I was leaving town. I weighed the book, wondering if perhaps I could afford to fly with a sixteen-pound book in my carry-on. I left it home and had a wonderful time away from the book, knowing it would be on my nightstand when I returned home.
In telling a friend about this dream-come-true book (you may need to click on the “Tugboat Book” link up above if you are still fuzzy about why this is a dream-come-true for me), I was scolded about never getting off my high horse. Why hadn’t I let him know I wanted this book, that I wanted to be a tugboat pilot, that I wanted wanted wanted. I was just to say the word and as a friend, he would help me. I wouldn’t have had to trade my back-up pony for the $2.32 I was short in purchasing the book if I would have talked to him first.
So now, I am short a back-up pony, but I am off my high-horse. I own my own Tugboat Book and have learned a lasting lesson. If we care about our friends, then we must open up enough so they may help us as we seek help. It’s all about bonding, I am told.
I am not sure if I’ve learned the entire lesson, though. I can be a bit hardheaded. I think I may ask for more bonding and for a trip to Nova Scotia where the becalming waters can be fully experienced under the tug of four knots.
(*becalming* is the new word I’ve learned since this book has come into my life.)