Things That Come in Threes

           While not superstitious per se, I do believe in signs. There are signs I garden by (I take planting signs quite seriously thanks to Thurman and Miss Duff). And there are signs I live by…these are subtle, insider things that to anybody else would mean nothing, but to me serve as a silent cue from the universe to sit up and take note.

When something appears in triplicate it has my undivided attention; I’ve come to know it means something big is about to happen. So regular have these signs been that I’ve (more than once) called a total stranger out of the blue because I’ve heard the name three times. (Yes, it’s awkward at first to try to explain “I know this sounds crazy and I know you don’t know me, but in three totally disconnected settings your name came up, and, well… Is there something you’re working on that I can help you with?” I wound up serving on a board the first time it happened. Another time it led to a seriously successful business venture. Another time it brought about a lifelong friendship.

Not sure what’s behind my most recent encounter with 3s, but here of late, I’m at it again, and this time it has something to do with with my dad.

As I shared the other day, “Arange” (the official UT shade of orange) was the man’s blood. If anything symbolized Dad at his boldest, it was Dad and this color. Dad had orange britches; he had orange blazers. He painted his van orange and wired the horn to play Rocky Top. In a nutshell, the man bled orange. You’d be hard pressed to find a bigger UT fanatic than my dad. He embodied the old adage: You can always tell a UT fan, you just can’t tell ‘em much.

For the most part my dad was a soft spoken man, but stick a UT ticket in his hand and his inner Smokey came out. It was the boldest, brashest you’d ever see him. The rest of the time he rather like being behind the scenes making things come together.

My first orange sign came with the cucumbers. As I’ve blogged recently my cucumbers came in “arange” this year, and no, they aren’t just overripe…I’m telling you they sprouted out orange. There have been myriad theories, the most likely being that there was some GMO blend in the seeds. Double checking, I did not pull last year’s seeds, but had purchased a new packet from a different place. There is also the possibility that the sudden shift in temps in the planting season played a part. (For the sake of this blog, it matters not what caused my arange cukes, looking out at my garden to see cukes and marigolds in identical hue, sprinkled about like Easter eggs was a shocker to me. “Yep. It’s “arange” all right. Daddy would love it.” But otherwise, I’d left it it at that.

Orange 2—same hue, came the next day… this time on a person. I admired her tan when Dawn came to pick veggies; it was the first thing you noticed. She’s a shade brought about by sun and a ton of carrot juicing. But when she flipped her hands over palm up to show me it was in her blood, that she really was turning orange, I’ll be darned if it wasn’t the human equivalent of the very same marigold/cucumber yellow. Again,“Hmmm. Interesting.” but didn’t give it a second thought…much less a third…until…

Third day, third sign. A co-writer friend came out to work on a project, bringing me some of the most beautiful brown country eggs laid by his lovely plucky hen. It wasn’t until that night when I cracked one open to fry a late night snack of okra that the color stopped me in my tracks. “Wait a minute,” I thought. “Three signs; three days.” Just then I looked up. There over the stove, the clock glowed a neon 11:11 (my forever sign that someone on the other side is near).

Like some spiritual game of charades, moments like these I’ve now come to revere as my mind attempts to make sense of the clues.  (“OK. First clue…sounds like….?”)  I thought back over my day, and what parts needed help the most…(there were plenty; some more than others. Some needing immediate resolution with no quick answer in sight). Aside from one meeting that got postponed, all that was different was a new project that had come my way that quite frankly, was a little “out there” even for me but I had dutifully taken notes just the same.

The next morning I received a call on the same (not-my-day job) topic, and by evening, several players and key elements had fallen into place, again, without my help. The concept would be a long shot but hey…anymore, I’m open to crazy possibilities. (I wound up living in a church the last time such far-fetched notions came to mind.)

Having no way of knowing till the hand plays out just what it all means, I return to the one thing I do know for certain and that is when the signs fall in 3s, I’m to be on the lookout, for people, places and things that come to me in a fairly short window,  timing for which can no way be coincidence.

What else can I say, except, “I’ll keep you posted.”