You Can’t Rush the Finer Things in Life

By Patti Parish-Kaminski, Publisher

There are certain things in this world that simply cannot be rushed. Art, nature, babies, beauty – just to name a few. And me, well, I am one of those things. Now, I can rush. I have the ability to do so. I can move things along, burn rubber, make haste – call it what you will – for my own purpose, at my own Mach 10 speed, but being rushed by someone else is just not something I excel at. Frankly, being rushed by anyone or anything annoys me – tremendously – and I don’t recommend it.

Mornings are the worst. I am not a morning glory. I do not bloom in the wee hours of dawn. The only dawn I truly appreciate is by Tanya Tucker, and her name is Delta. My people know these things about me; therefore, if I am expected somewhere before 10 AM, there is a notification protocol that must be strictly adhered to for the good of all involved.

Step 1 of the protocol involves a minimum 12-hour advance notification. If properly notified, I can commence with Step 2, which involves preparedness. Step 2 is essential in the process and can only occur if Step 1 commences in a timely manner.

With Step 2 in place, I am golden because your girl excels in preparedness. I am a Girl Scout when it comes to being prepared, and it’s a multi-step process. Step 2 involves weather checking, outfit selection, ironing as necessary, jewelry selection, handbag change over, footwear options, outerwear election, manicure check, briefcase packing and tablet charging. That’s the basic Step 2. If I’m going solo, there’s Step 2b, which involves route confirmation that leads to Step 3 involving Mr. Kaminski. Step 3 consists of essentials procurement: gas and cash. I understand there are establishments that provide both gas and cash. I simply choose to not frequent them regularly.

So, when Mr. Kaminski gently suggested it was time for us to return to triple-digit Texas temperatures this summer, he opted for a later departure than our usual 6 AM thinking it would both soften the blow and slow down my arduous need for overt preparedness. There would be no early morning escapades on our return home he declared as our first stop would be just a few hours away to a boutique hotel in Lubbock where we would enjoy a great restaurant, live music and no early morning jaunts. I was all in for a solid noon departure because my ability to function at that time of day is clearly superior to that of 6 AM.

Our exodus six hours later did indeed go much smoother than usual, and our trip rather pleasant. The hotel was quite lovely, and once settled, discussions regarding the next morning began. It didn’t take long for Mr. Kaminski to begin doing the puppy wiggle over plans for the next day. You see, he gets excited over new places, the adventure of trying new things, and it didn’t take long for the conversation to go something like this:

“They serve breakfast until 9, and we need to be on the road by 10, so what do you think about going to breakfast at 8:30 and then heading out?” – Mr. Kaminski

“So, we’re getting up at 7:30 so we can have breakfast at 8:30, which I do not and will not eat, so we can leave by 10?” – Me with a look

“How about I go have breakfast, and when you’re ready, call me, and we’ll leave?” – Mr. Kaminski

Sometimes it takes him a minute. While getting ready the next morning, I stumbled on a find. A cup in the room had words, profound words for those such as myself who do not appreciate being rushed. The words? “Just wait a cotton pickin’ minute.” And that’s exactly what Mr. Kaminski did at breakfast while I got road trip ready.

See y’all next week – on the porch!


Patti Parish-Kaminski

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