I don’t have a very good sense of direction. I don’t know my north from my south so to speak. I think a good sense of direction is something a person either has or they don’t, and I don’t. Mine is so bad, that I even have a hard time figuring out the direction that the wind is blowing-even though we have a weathervane.
When I lived with my Grandmother, she would say something like “Valerie, would you go to the kitchen and get my cherry pitter from that north cupboard?” Huh? Off I’d go-searching as quickly and silently as possible hoping I’d hit pay dirt right off the bat.
My husband Stuart likes to tease me by saying that the town we live in is twice as big for me as it is for most other folks, because I often get turned around when we are out and about and I think we are in a new part of the city. And as far as reading a map goes, well lets just say that it doesn’t matter if it is upside down or right side up—I always get confused by the fact that north can be any direction I point the old Rand Mcnally.
Recently, I asked my husband if he would make me one of those wooden direction signs shaped like an arrow, and with the word “HAWAII” carved into the surface. “Which direction would it point?” I asked, taking in some of the beautiful views from our yard. “That way.” he gestured, straight at the neighbor’s garage.
I may not have a very good sense of direction, but I DO have a great imagination!