It started out as such a nice little day.....the day after Vacation Bible School ended....the 6th day without my girls (meaning that I am on the home stretch, with only 3days remaining until they are back on American soil, in my arms, in their own beds). It was a day in which I was beholden to no one.....John working early and late, College Boy laboring away at his summer job....what should I do? Sleep?!? That was the activity of choice - until the mosquito bite on my foot was itching so fiercely that it woke me up - at 5:45. As I was scratching like a mad man, my mind drifted to Costa Rica....and mosquitoes, and the Malaria medication that we did NOT give our girls, on the advice of our Dr. and the US Government....and what if the girls have mosquito bites, and it was from the one mosquito that had flown from the East Coast of that country to the West...with the sole purpose of infecting my daughters.....I pulled myself together after a couple of cups of coffee - enjoyed predawn in the Pavillion (you know....my converted Car Port). Since my dear friend sleep had eluded me, might as well start the day....First up - Pedicure. Long overdue Pedicure. I was the first customer at my preferred salon, and got "the new girl". She was fabulous! Pleasant and funny, she gave me a great pedicure with a kissy pinky red polish. Then, on my way back to the car, I took a short cut through Belks - and there before me, in all their glory, was an amazing pair of RED cowboy boots....on sale....big sale.....for a price that I could afford (translate, put on my Belks Card). My blog tonight was SUPPOSED to be dedicated to the sublime perfection of my new boots (Now resting in a place of honor in my closet - purchased to celebrate hitting the 45 pound lost mark). If only I could end the story there.....
I was on a Red Boot High, when I got to the car...why not go for the whole shebang, I thought to myself....lets get the hair cut too! Now - I am loathe to admit - that I am a haircut cheapskate.(Much to the everlasting dismay of my niece, who is a very accomplished hair stylist, and who would gladly cut my hair for free, I am sure, if she didn't live half way across the State). If Great Clips is not running their 5.99 special, then I just take myself over to the beauty school by Hobby Lobby. It's not like my hairstyle is complicated - blunt cut, straight across, with long layers - finished out with a trim to the bangs. While I was waiting in the beauty school lobby for my name to be called, I picked up the US Weekly laying on the table, and was quickly engrossed in the "Who wore it Best" feature. This might explain why I did not immediately look up, when I heard a voice going down the line - "This you name? This you name?".....I looked up, and saw a woman - disheveled, less than clean, and of indeterminate origin, smiling and waving a card in my face "This you name?" For the briefest of instants, I contemplated saying "Nope...not me". Instead, I returned her smile and said "Yes, I am Kelley"........if only I had gone with the first instinct......To say that her English was broken, would be an understatement, and for the next hour the only phrase I understood was "You want me fix gray?" I assured her that I myself would be taking care of the gray, with the help of Miss Clarol, later on, in the privacy of my own room. I relaxed as she used the good smelling shampoo on my hair - to give credit where credit is due, she did a great job on the hair washing. I gave clear, instructions - with Hand gestures too, I might add - telling her how I wanted my hair cut....trimmed really - holding my thumb and forefinger about an inch and a half apart. An industrious student, she was at work in a flash, clipping here - clipping there....my back was to the mirror, and I became caught up in the goings on - the beauty school is a busy place, you know.
Finished at last, and chattering away in her approximation of English - my student turned me to face the mirror. You know those tears that fall immediately and unbidden from your eyes when you least expect them? Yep.....I had them, for instead of a nicely trimmed, just above shoulder length, layered bob - I was now the mortified owner of an ear length 70's shag cut. "You no like?", she said, as her instructor came rushing over. "I'm sure it's a very nice cut", I stammered, " It's just really short". The instructor picked up the comb, and off she went - "Let me see your shears.....oh these are awful - too tight(whatever that means) - you need new ones...." On and on the admonishments came, and with each word - she cut and cut - I am assuming in an attempt to "even things up".....So it is that my nice little day came to an abrupt end. I am shorn....like a sheep.....like a sheep whose shepherd had really rusty clippers, and was, perhaps blindfolded at the time of the shearing. In an attempt to look on the bright side, it was a lot easier to color my hair, after supper....and thrifty too.....I barely even used half of the hair dye.....I could share....any takers?
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Friday, June 21, 2013
A Mother on the Edge
Sleep eludes me...for days, it has been the same, but tonight (this Morning - what do you call that in between time?) - it is particularly bad. I stay prone until the thoughts in my head drive me up and out. In 24 hours, I will put my girls on a plane to Costa Rica for an 8 day mission trip....in a foreign country....on a plane....to go far away....did I mention the plane? To Central America? I have employed all manner of thoughts and inner monologues, trying to keep the demon panic at bay. I remind myself that they will be with trusted adults....that they have each other, to lean on....that they are facing the adventure of a lifetime, in the service of our Lord.....That it is only Costa Rica. I remind myself of my friend, who has sent her son to India for the summer - facing it with such calm and good grace, just like she faces everything else (WHY can't I be THAT kind of person?). Instead, I fight to breathe - struggle to relax my body enough to draw a deep breath. My stomach appears to be refusing most food (which is super good for the diet, btw), and my mind....is in hyperdrive.
This morning, as I stared into the dark, I was telling myself that my own Mother(the worlds foremost nervous Nellie) survived my big High School trip....I was the same age as baby Girl - a rising senior. I had earned a place in the National Tournament for NFL(speech and debate). I, along with 2 teachers and a couple of other school mates who had also slogged their way into the tourney, would be "up, up and away" - flying cross country to Seattle, Washington. OH, my Mother was in a state (who do you think I get my anxiety from?!). My Mother HATED planes, and in the 70's it was not a common thing for folks to up and travel "half way around the world", but my Father insisted, and off I went, with beautiful new clothes, and the coolest, highest pair of elephant platform shoes you have ever seen! What adventures were had! Flying over the Rockies took my breath away (What little I had left.... for upon takeoff, I immediately joined my Mother in her dislike of flying). I will never forget the feel of the Pacific Northwest air, as it hit my face as we walked across the tarmac after descending the long roll up staircase from the tin bucket with wings (yes, it was THAT long ago - before they had fancy accordion tunnels that lead to the plane). The air was cool and heavy...it tasted green, and exotic....not at all like North Carolina air. My body felt hyper charged, and as I stepped off of the plane, I remember feeling myself grow up a little more - felt myself mystically propelled towards freedom, and autonomy....
I lay in bed and remind myself of the greatness of that adventure, and smile into the dark at the memory - knowing that my girls must be facing just such excitement....my predawn smile starts to fade, as I delve further into the memory of "my great adventure"...as I recall the snakebite I received - actually not one, but three! We had travelled to an island (on the smallest, rockingest boat you have ever seen, over incredibly turbulent waters - I spent the majority of the voyage - all of 30 minutes, laying on the floor - certain that this bout of motion sickness would be fatal) - for a true Pacific Northwest, Native American feast - wood plank roasted salmon with all of the fixins....The island was replete with Indian Maidens and Totem Poles....and walking trails....and snakes. As my comrades and I stopped for a rest from hiking the trails, we all plopped down on the ground, to take in the amazing view. I plopped on a snake....one bite to the hand, two to the back...as the viper slithered away, we only saw it's tail, and had no way of knowing WHAT kind of snake it was...the panic that ensued is legendary - needless to say, THAT is an evening I still haven't forgotten.(You can relax - it turned out to be a nonpoisonous snake). A few days later, I fell victim to Food Poisoning that was so intense, I hallucinated - called my bedridden Mother, to tell her I was dying, and wandered away from the hotel - burning with fever - alone, in a strange city. The culprit? The steak that was served at the closing banquet....so many kids became ill, that it made the National News....where my Mother heard it from Walter Cronkites own lips....I was rescued by a waitress in the diner across the street from the hotel, who called the front desk, which sent a bellboy to retrieve me.
Still weak and unwell, we boarded the plane a couple of days later for our return flight, only to have the engine break free from it's moorings as we taxied the runway....causing us to disembark, take a horrifying walk back to the airport, miss our connection in Chicago, spend the night in the seediest hotel imaginable (Think Dark lighting and tons of crushed red velvet), and arrive home a day late, in clothes that we had been wearing for 48 hours.....An adventure of a lifetime, for sure....but perhaps not the best memory to soothe a Mother on the Edge.
So I pray the same prayer that my Mother must have prayed, for myself and all of the kids facing the adventure of a lifetime.......God before me, God behind me.....God above me, God bellow me...God to my left, and God to my right....God within me....surround my children with safety and love, and bring them home, full of your Good Grace.....
This morning, as I stared into the dark, I was telling myself that my own Mother(the worlds foremost nervous Nellie) survived my big High School trip....I was the same age as baby Girl - a rising senior. I had earned a place in the National Tournament for NFL(speech and debate). I, along with 2 teachers and a couple of other school mates who had also slogged their way into the tourney, would be "up, up and away" - flying cross country to Seattle, Washington. OH, my Mother was in a state (who do you think I get my anxiety from?!). My Mother HATED planes, and in the 70's it was not a common thing for folks to up and travel "half way around the world", but my Father insisted, and off I went, with beautiful new clothes, and the coolest, highest pair of elephant platform shoes you have ever seen! What adventures were had! Flying over the Rockies took my breath away (What little I had left.... for upon takeoff, I immediately joined my Mother in her dislike of flying). I will never forget the feel of the Pacific Northwest air, as it hit my face as we walked across the tarmac after descending the long roll up staircase from the tin bucket with wings (yes, it was THAT long ago - before they had fancy accordion tunnels that lead to the plane). The air was cool and heavy...it tasted green, and exotic....not at all like North Carolina air. My body felt hyper charged, and as I stepped off of the plane, I remember feeling myself grow up a little more - felt myself mystically propelled towards freedom, and autonomy....
I lay in bed and remind myself of the greatness of that adventure, and smile into the dark at the memory - knowing that my girls must be facing just such excitement....my predawn smile starts to fade, as I delve further into the memory of "my great adventure"...as I recall the snakebite I received - actually not one, but three! We had travelled to an island (on the smallest, rockingest boat you have ever seen, over incredibly turbulent waters - I spent the majority of the voyage - all of 30 minutes, laying on the floor - certain that this bout of motion sickness would be fatal) - for a true Pacific Northwest, Native American feast - wood plank roasted salmon with all of the fixins....The island was replete with Indian Maidens and Totem Poles....and walking trails....and snakes. As my comrades and I stopped for a rest from hiking the trails, we all plopped down on the ground, to take in the amazing view. I plopped on a snake....one bite to the hand, two to the back...as the viper slithered away, we only saw it's tail, and had no way of knowing WHAT kind of snake it was...the panic that ensued is legendary - needless to say, THAT is an evening I still haven't forgotten.(You can relax - it turned out to be a nonpoisonous snake). A few days later, I fell victim to Food Poisoning that was so intense, I hallucinated - called my bedridden Mother, to tell her I was dying, and wandered away from the hotel - burning with fever - alone, in a strange city. The culprit? The steak that was served at the closing banquet....so many kids became ill, that it made the National News....where my Mother heard it from Walter Cronkites own lips....I was rescued by a waitress in the diner across the street from the hotel, who called the front desk, which sent a bellboy to retrieve me.
Still weak and unwell, we boarded the plane a couple of days later for our return flight, only to have the engine break free from it's moorings as we taxied the runway....causing us to disembark, take a horrifying walk back to the airport, miss our connection in Chicago, spend the night in the seediest hotel imaginable (Think Dark lighting and tons of crushed red velvet), and arrive home a day late, in clothes that we had been wearing for 48 hours.....An adventure of a lifetime, for sure....but perhaps not the best memory to soothe a Mother on the Edge.
So I pray the same prayer that my Mother must have prayed, for myself and all of the kids facing the adventure of a lifetime.......God before me, God behind me.....God above me, God bellow me...God to my left, and God to my right....God within me....surround my children with safety and love, and bring them home, full of your Good Grace.....
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