Semi-Daily Scribbles

The detritus of life tumbled from Lynda Filson's pockets like unsupervised Jiffy Pop®. Litter trailed in Lynda's wake as a convenient way to retrace her numerous steps. Out on her rounds, Lynda worried, and hovered, and wrung her hands a lot. There were so many details left unattended that her days were filled with activity from morning to midnight. She spent countless hours deadheading strangers' flowers. She trimmed back candle wax to expose the wick wherever a taper sputtered. Lynda clipped coupons for cotton swabs and cereal and left them in neighbors' mailboxes. There was no task too trivial for Lynda, but her efforts often went unnoticed. People did notice, however, her trail of petals, paper, and flakes. Lynda's legacy left her forever known as the town eccentric. She wasn't familiar with the word eccentric, so Lynda reckoned it meant Minder of all the Little Things, a title that fit her just fine.