A Choice of

There is no argument.

Despite my proficiency at using a keyboard (tattooed into memory by Katie Gibbs) I cannot keep up with the speed of the internet and/or AI.

And while I keep being reminded of that, occasionally, the lesson is far more pronounced.

And so it was when I narrowly avoided ordering 500 lbs of Michigan cherries. If the order had not been instantly canceled, I believe loved ones from near and far would have descended with haste and rightfully so.

The other online error occurred this morning and possibly again due to speed when I unintentionally substituted Muenster cheese for my normal “Very thin Swiss.”

However, like so much in life, the blunder carried a reward transporting me back to the days of youth, and Weight Watchers.

During a brief span of time when after several rather close pregnancies, several of my friends and I chose to join what was then almost a national pastime.

Jean, whose husband worked with mine, was (or so she claimed,) “in need of losing 5 lbs, so I can wear white shorts this summer.”

Alberta, my friend and neighbor, and I looking at our svelte friend, both wisely declined to comment on the amount of poundage we hoped to drop.

That then became the hot summer we three became addicted to Munster cheese, melted daily on one (or was it two) slices of very thin bread.

It was also the time when we became close friends.

Jean, of course, only needed one or possibly two, sessions of counseling before the 5 lbs melted away. Al and I spent far longer, and I don’t recall either of us graduating with honors, despite all the Munster cheese.

I do recall laughing a lot over coffee after the meetings. Then later in the year I still remember an amazing Christmas party Jean gave before moving across the country to join her husband at his new assignment.

Her Christmas tree was decorated with miniature battery operated candles and homemade cookies and despite having four youngsters clamoring for her attention, our hostess was dressed like a Good Housekeeping heroine. Ah, yes I was in awe and it was a magical night,

Our roads soon parted as Jean left after a rather bohemian brunch arranged by Al and I.

Shortly, thereafter, my husband was also transferred to another part of the country and Alberta had new neighbors.

For a while frequent notes were exchanged, and then suddenly I started buying Swiss Cheese. Eventually, only Christmas cards arrived annually, sometimes with pictures.

Today even though those days were ever so long ago, I’m grateful my fingers didn’t fly quite fast enough.

Because now I’m enjoying not only a slice of very thin bread topped with melted Munster cheese but also, a cup filled with lovely memories of a brief but wonderful moment in time.