It was a moment of perfect peace, in an otherwise wild, wonderful and chaotic weekend. Pork Chop and Pimento cheese biscuit in hand, I made my way to my old spot. The trees were bigger, tables and chairs had been added, but as I sat and tilted my head, eyes heavenward, the view was the same. It was unseasonably cool, a lovely breeze blowing - perfect conditions for remembrances. The high walled brick courtyard between the two Theatre buildings was my haven - my special place in College. It was the perfect setting to enjoy my breakfast before the madness of the day began..."The. Reunion." After all of the planning, the weekend had arrived. Thirty some odd years lay between most of us and our Graduation Day...
Between bites of biscuit (simmer down....it was a cheat weekend), I closed my eyes, and let the wind gather my thoughts and transport them to another day....another lifetime. Young, passionate artists tromped up and down the stairs of my memory....laughing, singing, arguing.....living. Tie Dye and leg warmers, gypsy skirts and gauze blouses, neckless tee shirts and tights - they were the dress of the day. Hair was long and crackling with vibrancy - beards were thick, and braids were king. Time steps, pirouettes and Jazz squares were more often than not modes of transportation. Emotions were worn on our sleeves as though they were precious jewels. We were friends, enemies, competitors.......family.
It was with a jolt of surprise that I opened my eyes to find myself alone in the courtyard wearing the modest dress of a middle aged woman - breakfast finished, break time over. As I stood and dusted the crumbs from my clothing, I wondered what the day would bring. Would there still be a commonality among us....those Theatre Major friends from long ago. Surely our paths had diverged and meandered so far away from each other....would we be able to recognize the original cloth from which we had been cut?
Never one to make social small talk, I nervously made my way towards the folks assembled in front of the Theatre that had given birth to our Adulthood. My fears were unfounded, as I found myself completely at home with the Grown Up persons that had once been my boon companions. The day raced by in a flurry of campus tours, Party set up, Donning my first Little Black Dress in 25 years, applying real eyeliner, and finally, walking up the polished marble steps of the Alumni House - having arrived at the Big. Event.
Stories were told....and retold. More than a few pictures of children and grandchildren were shown. Tears were shed when fallen comrades were remembered. Hugs and laughter and squeals of excitement filled the Alumni House with a golden warmth that enveloped each person there like a silk lined velvet cloak.
As the dancing began, we hit the floor to the disco tunes of our youth. Arms raised, heads thrown back - we spun in one accord, belting out the Chorus..."It's Rainin Men, Halleluljah,"...... The years melted away, and for an instant, all of those dear faces around me were as they had been, so many years ago. I was filled with a joy, the likes of which I have very seldom known. I was so present in the moment that it seemed frozen in a crystalline brightness. I was Twenty......and I was Fifty Three - all at the same time. I cherished the people that we had been, I marveled at the people we had become and I viewed the rugged miles and years between the two, as if in an out of body experience. My dance became one of Thanksgiving - for lives well lived, and a reunion of souls....long separated, but never forgotten. Thanks be to God, for the blessings of the day.
Monday, July 7, 2014
Monday, June 23, 2014
Calendar Days
The Mary Englebreight tear off calendar on my desk reads Thursday, June 12th.....nothing unusual there, except for the fact that it is June 23rd - so late on June 23rd that it is almost June 24th. I won't let my family rip the pages off, because I would really like for it to be Thursday June 12th again....please? (OK - fine...so denial is more than a river in Egypt)
June 12th is the day after June 11th, which is the day that Baby Girl Graduated. From. High. School. It is also the day that we let her in on a secret that we had been holding in for months...10 months to be exact. It took us that long to plan, and save, plan some more....save some more. John came up with the idea last summer. "Let's reward Baby Girl (He doesn't really call her that....I just use that name to protect the mostly innocent!) with something amazing for her graduation. Let's go on a trip - a big trip!" Because you see - School has been really hard for Baby Girl....I mean REALLY hard. And she NEVER. GAVE. UP....and beyond that, she excelled, and graduated with honors. So we planned, and saved, and had family conferences (minus Baby Girl, of course), and told enough other people that it is a blessed miracle that not one person let the cat out of the bag.
So....at lunch, on the big day, just hours before Graduation, we sprung the surprise - with a big wrapped box of seemingly unrelated items. She was required to guess what it might all mean - it didn't take her long to piece it together, and the memory of her reaction will be held close to my heart, until the day that memory serves me no more. At the HineyCrack of dawn the next morning (The aforementioned June 12th), despite my own emergency oral surgery 2 days prior, we were off in our rental van (SO nice - and such a pleasant change from my 10 year old van that has no AC, OR operating drivers side window - me slurping a liquid diet, and swigging antibiotic mouthwash like an old Wino). First stop - Orlando,Universal and Harry Potter World - our dream come true (Yes, fine....we are MAJOR Potterheads). Next, 5 days on the Gulf of Mexico, and then a few more days in St. Augustine - the birthplace of College Boy. What a time we had -All five Kennedys, together again.... hitting the road....living the high life!
As an aside, may I say that in no time in the last year has my 89 pound weight loss been more exciting to me. I got on rides, and never even thought ONCE about whether or not the safety bar would close. I scooted into my place in a tight booth at the Three Broomsticks, like I had been doing it all of my life. I walked for 12 hours straight in the heat - even with plantar fasciitis from too much Zumba...all the while wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt (Who KNEW that the air could feel so amazing on uncovered limbs?) I wore my first ever tankini, I laid on a blanket in the warm sand, and got up, unassisted....more than once. I walked for miles, doing the Sanibel stoop - looking for shells....and actually stooped!
We laughed, and played games....fished and ate....we lined up our beach chairs, and read in the sun and the breeze and the quiet communion of souls that are happy, just to be together. We witnessed rainbows over the ocean, and storms that shook the beautiful old beach house on the Gulf. We retold favorite family stories, and finished each others sentences...and on the last leg of our journey, when we parked in front of the old farm house that John and I bought and restored in the first year of our marriage, I marveled at how quickly time had passed...I breathed a silent prayer of thanks for the Blessings of this life that John and I have made together. (26 years in 2 days!) I remembered how we brought College Boy home to that very house when he was less than 24 hours old.(He will be 21 in less than 2 months.)
We visited with friends that prove the old adage about the quality of friendships that can be picked up as if the years were days.
As we turned the car north, mostly grown children asleep in the back...my mind raced ahead of the Van, and I cataloged those things that were waiting for me at home. College Boy leaving for the summer J.O.B. within hours of our arrival. Vacation Bible School in One. Week. Big College Reunion (Did I mention that the last day features a cookout....at my HOUSE?!) in Two. Weeks. Mission Trips for the Girls. Things to gather and buy for Baby Girls Dorm Room. Things to gather and buy for College Boys first apartment. And then, there is my friend....my beloved friend, several weeks into a Cancer diagnosis. Must check in with him...first thing.
And now, three days since our return, there is today....when the Cancer diagnosis for my friend, took an unhappy turn...a scary turn....a wrenching turn. Which would be why I find myself out of bed, sitting at my desk....staring at the calendar in the deep dark of the night...willing it to be June 12th again...with the Rental Van loaded with five Happy Kennedys, headed South, for the trip of a lifetime...anticipation like warm ButterBeer in our bellies.....10 days of unadulterated bliss stretching out ahead of us...I mean REALLY...the calendar SAYS it is so..........would that it were.
June 12th is the day after June 11th, which is the day that Baby Girl Graduated. From. High. School. It is also the day that we let her in on a secret that we had been holding in for months...10 months to be exact. It took us that long to plan, and save, plan some more....save some more. John came up with the idea last summer. "Let's reward Baby Girl (He doesn't really call her that....I just use that name to protect the mostly innocent!) with something amazing for her graduation. Let's go on a trip - a big trip!" Because you see - School has been really hard for Baby Girl....I mean REALLY hard. And she NEVER. GAVE. UP....and beyond that, she excelled, and graduated with honors. So we planned, and saved, and had family conferences (minus Baby Girl, of course), and told enough other people that it is a blessed miracle that not one person let the cat out of the bag.
So....at lunch, on the big day, just hours before Graduation, we sprung the surprise - with a big wrapped box of seemingly unrelated items. She was required to guess what it might all mean - it didn't take her long to piece it together, and the memory of her reaction will be held close to my heart, until the day that memory serves me no more. At the HineyCrack of dawn the next morning (The aforementioned June 12th), despite my own emergency oral surgery 2 days prior, we were off in our rental van (SO nice - and such a pleasant change from my 10 year old van that has no AC, OR operating drivers side window - me slurping a liquid diet, and swigging antibiotic mouthwash like an old Wino). First stop - Orlando,Universal and Harry Potter World - our dream come true (Yes, fine....we are MAJOR Potterheads). Next, 5 days on the Gulf of Mexico, and then a few more days in St. Augustine - the birthplace of College Boy. What a time we had -All five Kennedys, together again.... hitting the road....living the high life!
As an aside, may I say that in no time in the last year has my 89 pound weight loss been more exciting to me. I got on rides, and never even thought ONCE about whether or not the safety bar would close. I scooted into my place in a tight booth at the Three Broomsticks, like I had been doing it all of my life. I walked for 12 hours straight in the heat - even with plantar fasciitis from too much Zumba...all the while wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt (Who KNEW that the air could feel so amazing on uncovered limbs?) I wore my first ever tankini, I laid on a blanket in the warm sand, and got up, unassisted....more than once. I walked for miles, doing the Sanibel stoop - looking for shells....and actually stooped!
We laughed, and played games....fished and ate....we lined up our beach chairs, and read in the sun and the breeze and the quiet communion of souls that are happy, just to be together. We witnessed rainbows over the ocean, and storms that shook the beautiful old beach house on the Gulf. We retold favorite family stories, and finished each others sentences...and on the last leg of our journey, when we parked in front of the old farm house that John and I bought and restored in the first year of our marriage, I marveled at how quickly time had passed...I breathed a silent prayer of thanks for the Blessings of this life that John and I have made together. (26 years in 2 days!) I remembered how we brought College Boy home to that very house when he was less than 24 hours old.(He will be 21 in less than 2 months.)
We visited with friends that prove the old adage about the quality of friendships that can be picked up as if the years were days.
As we turned the car north, mostly grown children asleep in the back...my mind raced ahead of the Van, and I cataloged those things that were waiting for me at home. College Boy leaving for the summer J.O.B. within hours of our arrival. Vacation Bible School in One. Week. Big College Reunion (Did I mention that the last day features a cookout....at my HOUSE?!) in Two. Weeks. Mission Trips for the Girls. Things to gather and buy for Baby Girls Dorm Room. Things to gather and buy for College Boys first apartment. And then, there is my friend....my beloved friend, several weeks into a Cancer diagnosis. Must check in with him...first thing.
And now, three days since our return, there is today....when the Cancer diagnosis for my friend, took an unhappy turn...a scary turn....a wrenching turn. Which would be why I find myself out of bed, sitting at my desk....staring at the calendar in the deep dark of the night...willing it to be June 12th again...with the Rental Van loaded with five Happy Kennedys, headed South, for the trip of a lifetime...anticipation like warm ButterBeer in our bellies.....10 days of unadulterated bliss stretching out ahead of us...I mean REALLY...the calendar SAYS it is so..........would that it were.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
The Roar of the Greasepaint....
The chain link of the fencing pressed into my back, as I bent over double....hand grasping the knob of the old red door. My eyes and nose were pouring. Fortunately, I had a kleenex in the apron pocket of my costume. Great spasms of laughter racked my body, but as I stood outside, between the snorts and guffaws, I could feel the sun on my face...smell the green of spring, mingled with the perfume of the dumpster that resides behind the Theatre. How many times over the years have I stood in just that spot - smelling the spring - watching thunder storms roll by - freezing in the winter wind.
It started off like any other Tuesday Matinee....pushed and prodded by the impatient senior citizens behind me in the buffet line (One of the perks of working Dinner Theatre? Free Food!), a meal shared upstairs in the green room with my castmates, too long of a lingering at the table with stories, news, and a few photographic highjinks, rushing to jump into costume at 5 minutes till places.
All was well, until the top of the second act, when in what can only be described as a momentary brain malfunction, I misplaced a couple of words. Where they went, I can not say.....but the words I replaced them with came haltingly, and were mostly of the made up variety....As rarely happens....ok, as sometimes happens.....fine.....as often happens, those of us onstage got tickled - me, I am ashamed to admit it, most of all. Thankfully, I was scripted to exit the stage fairly quickly, where I was met by the stage manager....we dissolved into fits of laughter. A quick moment back on stage - only to leave again with another actor, where once safely offstage,we resumed the laughfest (hopefully inaudibly!) Back onstage, I managed to finish my dialogue AND a song, and then finally - a few minutes to go outside and compose myself, before my next entrance - which is how I found myself wedged between the chain link and the door. I have, for Thirty years with regularity (other than the 5 years I lived in Florida) worked at this Theatre. It is as intrinsically linked to my life as are the homes in which I have lived, the Church in which I worship (and work), the corner shop where I purchase my coffee....For over half of my life, I have parked my car in the back lot, walked up the actors stairs, and "done my thing". And standing there today, in the sun and the liquid mirth - I had a moment of great clarity.
Now, there are those in the Thesbian world that might look down upon Dinner Theatre, and truly enough, it is not Academic Theatre...nor is it highbrow....You would be hard pressed to find a Pulitzer Prize winning script being performed on a stage in the Dinner Theatre Circuit. But that being said, I would offer up that the Shows and performances that are typically found in such venues are no less valid....no less art.
Is not the goal of the Drama to offer up a slice of life? To move people to both ends of the emotional spectrum....laughter, tears....highs, lows, and every place in between - to allow the story to envelope the audience, to the point that they become a living, breathing part of the story? I have been blessed over the years, to tell many stories, sing many songs...I have been blessed to have a place to work, to hone my craft, to work with incredibly talented actors and musicians. I have been blessed to bring a much needed paycheck home to my family....to be the working actor I aspired to be, when I was a young woman.
Well, I finally pulled it together, and went back onstage. The song at the end of the show, is about a quilt, given to a young Mother, by the 3 Church Women (One being her Mother) who have loved and nurtured her for the entirety of her life. The harmonies are glorious, the lyrics thoughtfully written. As I sang it today, I looked at each of my fellow cast members - men and women that I have known and worked with for years, and was deeply moved by the role they, and all of the other folks I have shared that stage with in days gone by, have played in my life. The tapestry of art and life that they have helped me to weave.
After the curtain call, we gathered in the Lobby, for the Traditional "Joyed It Line" (you know, where the audience members come out, shake your hand and, and murmur "Joyed It") I was hugged by Grandma's who still had tears streaming down their faces....I was slapped on the shoulder by old men with craggy faces and misty eyes, and for a moment, connected by the art - by the story - by the song, we were not strangers, but a part of each other's lives.
"Put a piece here, Put a piece there, the picture comes alive.
And row, by row, the story grows, and through each tale we survive.
Hands have stitched this quilt together, knowing the tales of your heart
And love has stitched our lives together, so tightly they won't come apart"
It started off like any other Tuesday Matinee....pushed and prodded by the impatient senior citizens behind me in the buffet line (One of the perks of working Dinner Theatre? Free Food!), a meal shared upstairs in the green room with my castmates, too long of a lingering at the table with stories, news, and a few photographic highjinks, rushing to jump into costume at 5 minutes till places.
All was well, until the top of the second act, when in what can only be described as a momentary brain malfunction, I misplaced a couple of words. Where they went, I can not say.....but the words I replaced them with came haltingly, and were mostly of the made up variety....As rarely happens....ok, as sometimes happens.....fine.....as often happens, those of us onstage got tickled - me, I am ashamed to admit it, most of all. Thankfully, I was scripted to exit the stage fairly quickly, where I was met by the stage manager....we dissolved into fits of laughter. A quick moment back on stage - only to leave again with another actor, where once safely offstage,we resumed the laughfest (hopefully inaudibly!) Back onstage, I managed to finish my dialogue AND a song, and then finally - a few minutes to go outside and compose myself, before my next entrance - which is how I found myself wedged between the chain link and the door. I have, for Thirty years with regularity (other than the 5 years I lived in Florida) worked at this Theatre. It is as intrinsically linked to my life as are the homes in which I have lived, the Church in which I worship (and work), the corner shop where I purchase my coffee....For over half of my life, I have parked my car in the back lot, walked up the actors stairs, and "done my thing". And standing there today, in the sun and the liquid mirth - I had a moment of great clarity.
Now, there are those in the Thesbian world that might look down upon Dinner Theatre, and truly enough, it is not Academic Theatre...nor is it highbrow....You would be hard pressed to find a Pulitzer Prize winning script being performed on a stage in the Dinner Theatre Circuit. But that being said, I would offer up that the Shows and performances that are typically found in such venues are no less valid....no less art.
Is not the goal of the Drama to offer up a slice of life? To move people to both ends of the emotional spectrum....laughter, tears....highs, lows, and every place in between - to allow the story to envelope the audience, to the point that they become a living, breathing part of the story? I have been blessed over the years, to tell many stories, sing many songs...I have been blessed to have a place to work, to hone my craft, to work with incredibly talented actors and musicians. I have been blessed to bring a much needed paycheck home to my family....to be the working actor I aspired to be, when I was a young woman.
Well, I finally pulled it together, and went back onstage. The song at the end of the show, is about a quilt, given to a young Mother, by the 3 Church Women (One being her Mother) who have loved and nurtured her for the entirety of her life. The harmonies are glorious, the lyrics thoughtfully written. As I sang it today, I looked at each of my fellow cast members - men and women that I have known and worked with for years, and was deeply moved by the role they, and all of the other folks I have shared that stage with in days gone by, have played in my life. The tapestry of art and life that they have helped me to weave.
After the curtain call, we gathered in the Lobby, for the Traditional "Joyed It Line" (you know, where the audience members come out, shake your hand and, and murmur "Joyed It") I was hugged by Grandma's who still had tears streaming down their faces....I was slapped on the shoulder by old men with craggy faces and misty eyes, and for a moment, connected by the art - by the story - by the song, we were not strangers, but a part of each other's lives.
"Put a piece here, Put a piece there, the picture comes alive.
And row, by row, the story grows, and through each tale we survive.
Hands have stitched this quilt together, knowing the tales of your heart
And love has stitched our lives together, so tightly they won't come apart"
Saturday, January 11, 2014
Songs in the Night....
Children to my left were dancing. Trombone and clarinet were wailing. Stomping and clapping ensued....and there was singing - lots of singing. My kind of funeral.
In the last month, I have lost three friends. Larry. My first college boyfriend. A boy with gorgeous eyes, dreamy eyelashes and a mischievous smile that reeled you in like a sea bass. His adult life - the years after we lost touch, were not easy. My heart broke for him, as we reconnected on Facebook, where he shared some of his journey with me. His death - sudden and unexpected.
Laura - a mentor from my early days in Professional Theatre. Just a few years older than me, Laura was the Cool Kid....she taught me how to laugh at myself, and made certain that I was accepted and at ease. Her death - sudden and unexpected. She died on the same day as my third friend fell ill.
Lee - A man with a spirit as large as his girth. A friend from the instant I met him, my Freshman year in College. It is Lee's funeral from which I have just returned. His death....not so sudden. Not totally unexpected.
I was honored and proud to sing with the choir today. Not my choir, but a marvelously large choir in a magnificent Church one town over. A choir in which Lee was a beloved member....in a Church where Lee was a vital congregant. Lee, with his chortling belly laugh.....Lee, who sparkled and oozed fun....Lee, who could put more syllables and intonation into the phrase "My, Dear", than any person I have ever met. Lee.....who was the embodiment of discipleship - a man who lived his faith. A man who loved children, music, theatre, movies and all things southern. A man with a wicked sense of humor, who was impressed by one's ability to accessorize. A man who didn't let the limitations of his body hamper his determination to live life to the fullest. A man who lived large....who loved large. A man who made no apologies for who he was. A man who shared his Joy with one and all.
All, gone too soon. Larry.........Laura.......Lee........... One month, Three L's.......LLL.......Live Like Lee.
We should all be so blessed - to live like Lee. To Love so deeply and openly. To revel in Laughter. To be such a good friend.To spread joy. To be an encouraging presence to those in our lives. To be fully invested in who. we. are. To Live Like Lee.
The text to one of my favorite Anthems was on the back of the Funeral Bulletin.....let us Live Like Lee - with a song in the night.....
"My life flows on in endless song, above earth's lamentation.....What tho' the darkness gather round? Songs in the night He giveth. No storm can shake my inmost calm while to that refuge clinging. Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth, How can I keep from singing...."
In the last month, I have lost three friends. Larry. My first college boyfriend. A boy with gorgeous eyes, dreamy eyelashes and a mischievous smile that reeled you in like a sea bass. His adult life - the years after we lost touch, were not easy. My heart broke for him, as we reconnected on Facebook, where he shared some of his journey with me. His death - sudden and unexpected.
Laura - a mentor from my early days in Professional Theatre. Just a few years older than me, Laura was the Cool Kid....she taught me how to laugh at myself, and made certain that I was accepted and at ease. Her death - sudden and unexpected. She died on the same day as my third friend fell ill.
Lee - A man with a spirit as large as his girth. A friend from the instant I met him, my Freshman year in College. It is Lee's funeral from which I have just returned. His death....not so sudden. Not totally unexpected.
I was honored and proud to sing with the choir today. Not my choir, but a marvelously large choir in a magnificent Church one town over. A choir in which Lee was a beloved member....in a Church where Lee was a vital congregant. Lee, with his chortling belly laugh.....Lee, who sparkled and oozed fun....Lee, who could put more syllables and intonation into the phrase "My, Dear", than any person I have ever met. Lee.....who was the embodiment of discipleship - a man who lived his faith. A man who loved children, music, theatre, movies and all things southern. A man with a wicked sense of humor, who was impressed by one's ability to accessorize. A man who didn't let the limitations of his body hamper his determination to live life to the fullest. A man who lived large....who loved large. A man who made no apologies for who he was. A man who shared his Joy with one and all.
All, gone too soon. Larry.........Laura.......Lee........... One month, Three L's.......LLL.......Live Like Lee.
We should all be so blessed - to live like Lee. To Love so deeply and openly. To revel in Laughter. To be such a good friend.To spread joy. To be an encouraging presence to those in our lives. To be fully invested in who. we. are. To Live Like Lee.
The text to one of my favorite Anthems was on the back of the Funeral Bulletin.....let us Live Like Lee - with a song in the night.....
"My life flows on in endless song, above earth's lamentation.....What tho' the darkness gather round? Songs in the night He giveth. No storm can shake my inmost calm while to that refuge clinging. Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth, How can I keep from singing...."
Thursday, November 14, 2013
After the showers have gone.....
Johns' Explorer made the perfect Ice Pack this morning. Crackhouse Puppy needed to go out, so I gingerly slipped on my Crocs, threw on my shawl and carefully stepped outside. While waiting for my buddy to get down to business, I leaned against the car....Ice Cold, and the perfect height. It hit most of my parts that are screaming with pain this morning.
It's been a Hell of a week in the Kennedy household....actually, a Hell of a two weeks. Mr. Kennedy had a serious allergic reaction to a sulfa antibiotic he was taking to ward off any nasty infections, after he cut his hand at work and became the recipient of a number of stitches. Babiest girl has Pneumonia. Baby Girl has some weird virus that settled in her eye and stomach that also produced multiple days of hives....and me? Well, I fell out of the attic on Tuesday. (This being Thursday, I am REALLY feeling it today....).
I decided to take advantage of Baby Girl being home on a school day, and enlist her to help me with the Thanksgiving decorations...which, of course, were in the attic. She was up in the attic, getting the boxes and handing them to me for transport down the ladder (One of those nasty pull down things). Standing on the next to the top step - my body in the attic space - I reached for the box, and in the blink of an eye, the contents in the box shifted as I grabbed hold and knocked me off balance. Shift to slow motion. As I fell backwards, I twisted in mid air - grabbing for the art piece that was hanging on the wall to my left - sending it crashing to the ground. I followed. The good news is the box fell on top of me - I cushioned it's fall, so none of the contents were destroyed! I heard a screaming in my head...I assumed it was my scream, but it belonged to Baby Girl - she thought I was dead, because evidently I was neither moving or breathing (Having had the wind knocked out me). She jumped from mid ladder (She will be seeing the orthopod on Monday - she did something to her foot!) "Mama....MAMA!......are You OK?!" Me: "I......don't.......know. Go get Debbie". About that time, Babiest girl (having dragged herself off of her sickbed : i.e. Recliner) comes screaming up the stairs. There I lay....face down, trying to asses the extent of my injuries - feet...really bad. Hip....pretty bad.....Left arm.....agony.....Head.....still attached.
Baby Girl must have flown across the street, because suddenly she was back with my neighbor Debbie - a nurse. She looked me over, and shared my concerns over my feet, arm and hip. I sat up slowly, and we determined my hip was not broken....feet blue and swelling....arm excruciating. John made the 20 mile trip home from work in record time, and we were off for Xrays.
Barefoot and shaking, I managed to get myself into the wheelchair at the medical facility (Which shall not be named, to protect the innocent). It was raining - a cold rain mixed with a few snow flakes. By the time John wheeled me inside, I was damp and freezing.(John was so sweet....he laid an old towel he had in the back of the car on the pavement, so I wouldn't get my feet wet as I stepped down). The receptionist, who was expecting us thanks to a call from my neighbor, got right down to business. Name? Date of Birth? Address? Insurance?................... silence...........because, of course....we have none. Since John lost his job 4 and 1/2 years ago - we have been among the ranks of the uninsured. He works 6 days a week in a commission only job. They, of course OFFER insurance, but to pay the premium - many months that would be more than John brings home....he would owe his employers money. I am not eligible for insurance at my job, because I am not a full time employee. We have been able to supply the kids with insurance...but us? Not possible. So we have done what we have always done in our life together. We have made the best of it. Most days, while I ALWAYS think about it, I am able to deal with it.....even when friends and family make snide remarks about "Lazy no good people trying to bilk good tax paying folks out of their hard earned money." Even while I read post after post on Facebook containing cruel, hateful, ignorant rantings about "Obamacare", and how "those people" don't deserve to be insured if "they" don't work for it.
I have been advised more than once to keep my political leanings to myself, and out of the public forum. Wise advice, in light of what I do for a living. Advice that I generally adhere to, because I have no desire to hurt anyone's feelings, or make them feel uncomfortable ....But that Tuesday afternoon, full of fear and in excruciating pain, under the sneer of the receptionist who, looking down her nose at me said..."Oh we do NOT serve uninsured patients here."....well, something broke inside me. There she stood - this girl who I am CERTAIN had far less education than my husband and I do...this girl that had poor grammar and even poorer posture, with one glance passed judgement upon us as unworthy....as some of "those people".
I fought back tears in my shame.....I was embarrassed beyond measure - by this time, people in the waiting room were staring at us...trying to get a look at the "freeloaders". I couldn't even look at John....I couldn't bear to see the pain in his face....the pain that I knew full well was there. Mortified and shaking, I started to say "Let's just go home", when the receptionist said with a put upon air "Well, let me call upstairs....sometimes they see the uninsured up there". Thankfully, there was a compassionate person on the other end of the phone, and they agreed to see us (after a very large upfront payment). The Doctor was kind, and Thank You Jesus, nothing was broken, which was miraculous, given my age and the height from which I fell.
Perhaps I should say, no bones were broken...because something in me DID break on Tuesday. My shame and embarrassment turned to anger somewhere around the 3rd of many XRays.
I don't know any person who works harder than my John. He works 6 days a week at his full time job, then does furniture repair on the side. He also mows lawns and anything else he can find to do. He is a person to be admired and respected, because he refuses to let himself be dragged asunder by our circumstances. I too, take as many paying jobs as I can find, in addition to my work at the Church. Acting gigs, singing gigs... whatever pays (and is legal!), well - you can count me in!
I say this, not to elicit sympathy, or pity....but to say, "I'm mad as Hell, and I'm not going to take it any more". Each snide or careless comment or FaceBook post has taken a little chink out of my soul. I only ask, that before you post that Meme about Obamacare.....or go on a two paragraph rant about "those people"....or stand around in a group and loudly discuss those good for nothing folks that don't have insurance, I only ask that you think.....that you see my face, or Johns face, and remember that there, but for the grace of God YOU might go. We never in our wildest imaginings would have dreamed that at our age, and level of education and work experience we would find ourselves in such a spot - but here we are, and here we have been for quite some time.The AFFORDABLE CARE ACT is, at this point, our only hope for insurance.....and it's not just us.....it is millions like us.....hardworking people, trying to do their best with circumstances beyond their control.
So yes....I did break something on Tuesday....and in a way, I am glad. Because I will no longer be ashamed, and afraid that someone might "find out" that we have no insurance. And if you are among my friends or family to post something hateful on FaceBook, or engage in a conversation in my hearing, rest assured that I will be privately sharing with you my point of view. Not in a public forum such as you have used to chip away at my self esteem, but privately and intently. I will defend your right to believe as you choose -I always have, and I always will....but I will no longer stand quietly by and say nothing, as you have a go at "those lazy people", for as my Mama taught me, "By saying and doing nothing....I HAVE said and done something - something contrary to my beliefs".
Thanks be to God, for the mercies of this week....for another chance to Keep on Keepin On.....for "hope, of the sunshine tomorrow, after the showers have gone"......
It's been a Hell of a week in the Kennedy household....actually, a Hell of a two weeks. Mr. Kennedy had a serious allergic reaction to a sulfa antibiotic he was taking to ward off any nasty infections, after he cut his hand at work and became the recipient of a number of stitches. Babiest girl has Pneumonia. Baby Girl has some weird virus that settled in her eye and stomach that also produced multiple days of hives....and me? Well, I fell out of the attic on Tuesday. (This being Thursday, I am REALLY feeling it today....).
I decided to take advantage of Baby Girl being home on a school day, and enlist her to help me with the Thanksgiving decorations...which, of course, were in the attic. She was up in the attic, getting the boxes and handing them to me for transport down the ladder (One of those nasty pull down things). Standing on the next to the top step - my body in the attic space - I reached for the box, and in the blink of an eye, the contents in the box shifted as I grabbed hold and knocked me off balance. Shift to slow motion. As I fell backwards, I twisted in mid air - grabbing for the art piece that was hanging on the wall to my left - sending it crashing to the ground. I followed. The good news is the box fell on top of me - I cushioned it's fall, so none of the contents were destroyed! I heard a screaming in my head...I assumed it was my scream, but it belonged to Baby Girl - she thought I was dead, because evidently I was neither moving or breathing (Having had the wind knocked out me). She jumped from mid ladder (She will be seeing the orthopod on Monday - she did something to her foot!) "Mama....MAMA!......are You OK?!" Me: "I......don't.......know. Go get Debbie". About that time, Babiest girl (having dragged herself off of her sickbed : i.e. Recliner) comes screaming up the stairs. There I lay....face down, trying to asses the extent of my injuries - feet...really bad. Hip....pretty bad.....Left arm.....agony.....Head.....still attached.
Baby Girl must have flown across the street, because suddenly she was back with my neighbor Debbie - a nurse. She looked me over, and shared my concerns over my feet, arm and hip. I sat up slowly, and we determined my hip was not broken....feet blue and swelling....arm excruciating. John made the 20 mile trip home from work in record time, and we were off for Xrays.
Barefoot and shaking, I managed to get myself into the wheelchair at the medical facility (Which shall not be named, to protect the innocent). It was raining - a cold rain mixed with a few snow flakes. By the time John wheeled me inside, I was damp and freezing.(John was so sweet....he laid an old towel he had in the back of the car on the pavement, so I wouldn't get my feet wet as I stepped down). The receptionist, who was expecting us thanks to a call from my neighbor, got right down to business. Name? Date of Birth? Address? Insurance?................... silence...........because, of course....we have none. Since John lost his job 4 and 1/2 years ago - we have been among the ranks of the uninsured. He works 6 days a week in a commission only job. They, of course OFFER insurance, but to pay the premium - many months that would be more than John brings home....he would owe his employers money. I am not eligible for insurance at my job, because I am not a full time employee. We have been able to supply the kids with insurance...but us? Not possible. So we have done what we have always done in our life together. We have made the best of it. Most days, while I ALWAYS think about it, I am able to deal with it.....even when friends and family make snide remarks about "Lazy no good people trying to bilk good tax paying folks out of their hard earned money." Even while I read post after post on Facebook containing cruel, hateful, ignorant rantings about "Obamacare", and how "those people" don't deserve to be insured if "they" don't work for it.
I have been advised more than once to keep my political leanings to myself, and out of the public forum. Wise advice, in light of what I do for a living. Advice that I generally adhere to, because I have no desire to hurt anyone's feelings, or make them feel uncomfortable ....But that Tuesday afternoon, full of fear and in excruciating pain, under the sneer of the receptionist who, looking down her nose at me said..."Oh we do NOT serve uninsured patients here."....well, something broke inside me. There she stood - this girl who I am CERTAIN had far less education than my husband and I do...this girl that had poor grammar and even poorer posture, with one glance passed judgement upon us as unworthy....as some of "those people".
I fought back tears in my shame.....I was embarrassed beyond measure - by this time, people in the waiting room were staring at us...trying to get a look at the "freeloaders". I couldn't even look at John....I couldn't bear to see the pain in his face....the pain that I knew full well was there. Mortified and shaking, I started to say "Let's just go home", when the receptionist said with a put upon air "Well, let me call upstairs....sometimes they see the uninsured up there". Thankfully, there was a compassionate person on the other end of the phone, and they agreed to see us (after a very large upfront payment). The Doctor was kind, and Thank You Jesus, nothing was broken, which was miraculous, given my age and the height from which I fell.
Perhaps I should say, no bones were broken...because something in me DID break on Tuesday. My shame and embarrassment turned to anger somewhere around the 3rd of many XRays.
I don't know any person who works harder than my John. He works 6 days a week at his full time job, then does furniture repair on the side. He also mows lawns and anything else he can find to do. He is a person to be admired and respected, because he refuses to let himself be dragged asunder by our circumstances. I too, take as many paying jobs as I can find, in addition to my work at the Church. Acting gigs, singing gigs... whatever pays (and is legal!), well - you can count me in!
I say this, not to elicit sympathy, or pity....but to say, "I'm mad as Hell, and I'm not going to take it any more". Each snide or careless comment or FaceBook post has taken a little chink out of my soul. I only ask, that before you post that Meme about Obamacare.....or go on a two paragraph rant about "those people"....or stand around in a group and loudly discuss those good for nothing folks that don't have insurance, I only ask that you think.....that you see my face, or Johns face, and remember that there, but for the grace of God YOU might go. We never in our wildest imaginings would have dreamed that at our age, and level of education and work experience we would find ourselves in such a spot - but here we are, and here we have been for quite some time.The AFFORDABLE CARE ACT is, at this point, our only hope for insurance.....and it's not just us.....it is millions like us.....hardworking people, trying to do their best with circumstances beyond their control.
So yes....I did break something on Tuesday....and in a way, I am glad. Because I will no longer be ashamed, and afraid that someone might "find out" that we have no insurance. And if you are among my friends or family to post something hateful on FaceBook, or engage in a conversation in my hearing, rest assured that I will be privately sharing with you my point of view. Not in a public forum such as you have used to chip away at my self esteem, but privately and intently. I will defend your right to believe as you choose -I always have, and I always will....but I will no longer stand quietly by and say nothing, as you have a go at "those lazy people", for as my Mama taught me, "By saying and doing nothing....I HAVE said and done something - something contrary to my beliefs".
Thanks be to God, for the mercies of this week....for another chance to Keep on Keepin On.....for "hope, of the sunshine tomorrow, after the showers have gone"......
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Nine Flights Down....Nine Flights Up......
So, I'm sitting here before bedtime - eating a Chocolate BB Bat, and drinking a Coke. Not in despair over a three week plateau (I'm stuck at 73 pounds gone), but at the end of a cheat weekend, in honor of my belated birthday trip with the whole family....All five of us - together - my favorite thing! We started the weekend off with a college tour for Baby Girl. In the Mountains, but not College Boy's mountains - further south, and west. After the tour (we all LOVED the school - it is a real contender!), and a late supper, we discussed the options for our Saturday adventure. Hiking won the popular vote. In years past, I would have been the lone dissenting voter - mountain hiking? Not my thing. In years past, Four Kennedys would have trekked away - turning back to wave at me, as I settled down with my book, on a bench close to the trail head.
But yesterday morning, I laced up my fancy hiking boots (Found new, at the Goodwill! 150 dollar boots for 5 bucks!), donned my AppState Sweatshirt (a birthday present from College Boy...did I mention that it was size LARGE?!?! Not even an "X" in front of the "L"!), and bounded down the the stairs of the borrowed cottage. As we pulled out of the driveway I grabbed the "Transylvania County Waterfall Guide", and read up on the trail. "Difficulty - moderate to high"......hhmmmm......"4 mile scenic hike"....hmmmm......Commence the internal pep talk. "You've got this....you ZUMBA for goodness sakes....your new motto is Keep on Keepin On......" Buoyed by my own inspiring words of wisdom, I settled in for some serious scenery watching. Even with the GPS, we had some difficulty locating our intended location - DuPont State Forrest. After a few wrong turns, and finally, a quick stop to ask directions, we pulled into the Parking Lot at the head of the trail (And, not a moment too soon - I forgot to mention the two cups of coffee I drank on the ride over....and Lord have mercy, let me tell you about the line at the bathroom....I finally had John stand watch outside the Men's Room while I went in.....what?......I am not proud.....) A quick picnic at the car (No tables...it is a Forrest, NOT a park, as we were told by the volunteers in the visitors center....), and we were off. Emboldened by my store bought walking sticks, I took the lead. Up hill, down hill....the Fresh Air Mountain Smell was intoxicating. It was grey, damp and cool - my favorite! I will stop here, and share with you my theory - when they are making these hiking trails, they like to lure you in with a false sense of security....modest inclines and descents....so minor as to barely be noticeable.....until you are too far in to turn around, and then.......Lord help.
We were gaining speed, as we walked down the first major incline - I was loving life - smiling and greeting people that we passed...until it occurred to me - What goes down, must go up (In hiking, that is....). We heard the first waterfall long before we saw the sign for it. Triple Falls...such a utilitarian name for such a miraculous sight. We took a right, following the arrow....and then, I saw the stairs. They went Straight down the side of the mountain....I offer not one shred of exaggeration here when I say that from the top, you could not see the last of the stairs. My entire family turned as one, looking at me questioningly. Inside, I was screaming "NO,NO, NO....you CAN NOT DO THIS". I put on what I hope was a pleasantly brave face, and nodded towards the steps - "Let's Go!". One step at a time, down I went - making note of the sturdy benches built into the railing, at every other flight. I comforted myself with the promise that I could sit down whenever I wanted or needed to. After what seemed like an eternity, the staircase made a final turn, and there before me was a natural wonder more beautiful than any I had ever seen. I stepped down onto one of the massive stones, and burst into tears. Never in my life as a Mother had I been able to share such a thing with my children....the majesty.....the awe inspiring roar....the delicious spray of water as one Fall pooled and then spilled into another, and then another....one by one, my babies patted and embraced me - John took my hand, beaming from ear to ear. For a moment, all of us stood still - enfolded in the victory. The kids scrambled over rocks, right up to the falls - but John and I sat, side by side on a beautiful boulder - silent, each with our own thoughts. Mine ranged to the miraculous - the miracle of God's handiwork - the majesty of our surroundings. The miracle of those three precious humans that are mine - playing together, as if they were small again - my heart bursting with love and pride. The biggest miracle of all - that I was able to be there with them - a feat which, 6 months ago would have been an impossibility. We stayed a long time - reveling in the moment. Pictures were taken, and then....the ascent. 9 flights down......9 flights up. I would be lying, if I said I wasn't nervous....truth to tell, I was slightly panicked. I developed a rhythm. 2 flights...stop and rest. 2 more....stop and rest.....as I reached the top, John at my side, I was greeted by the faces I love most..... each wearing a look of pride, joy and disbelief. Laughing, we turned to face the next direction signs. One led to the rest of the trail - the other, a side trail that went all the way to the bottom of the gorge - to the pool of the third waterfall. As it turns out, the nine flights down - that was only half way down.....The trail we now faced went down a mountain.....an. entire. mountain. Giddy with my previous success, I allowed my beloved family to hoodwink me into believing that I could scale an entire mountain - Down AND Up. (Perhaps it wasn't giddiness per se....more likely it was lack of oxygen to the brain from the altitude, and my recent encounter with the aforementioned 9 flights of stairs.) Against my better judgement, one foot and one walking stick in front of the other, I began the steep descent. Dirt, gravel and kitchen words were flying, as I tried to stay on my feet. More than once, feet and walking sticks tried to skitter out from under me. Before I was a third of the way down the mountain, my leg muscles were shaking, but John was always there, and together, we made it to the base of the mountain. It seemed that once again, the Good Lord provided, because there - at the place where the trail leveled out at waters edge, was a tall boulder with a flat top - perfect for the collapse that ensued. Down I went - trembling, terrified and triumphant. As I rested, I scanned the river for a rock suitable for the rescue helicopter that would surely be dispatched post haste to get me back up the dadgummed mountain. Once again my mostly grown, little children scampered off to play in the rocks. John looked at me, laughing and shaking his head...."Honey....You made it"......indeed I had. My family knows me well enough to know that some powerful magic was going to be needed to get me back up the mountain. Teasing and laughing, they took turns walking back up with me.......a bit of a climb, a rest, a song sung in harmony or a laugh.....a bit of a climb, a rest, a song or a laugh, and in no time at all, in spite of myself - I had scaled a mountain...physically AND proverbially. The rest of the hike was a breeze, after that...up hill, down hill - covered bridges and streams. 5 miles in all.
The family took turns rubbing on me last night....8 hours in new hiking boots destroyed my feet and ankles....my thigh muscles cramped and burned. But I woke up this morning, able to move. College Boy was returned to his side of the Mountain. The car is unloaded, the laundry is started, and as I got up from the computer just now to let Crack House Puppy out, my limp was barely perceptible.
So yes, I am drinking a Coke and eating a chocolate BB Bat, in my Size Large shirt and skinny jeans. Tomorrow, the Food Log will reappear and calories will once again be counted. Tonight is for savoring.....chocolate and Coke.....Size Large shirts.....remembrances of Waterfalls and Mountain Ridges that I could once only dream about (Or see in Movies - the Hunger Games, to be exact....)...experiences and victories that now live in my sense memory....Nine flights down...Nine flights up.....one step at a time....Happy Re-Birth Day to me......
But yesterday morning, I laced up my fancy hiking boots (Found new, at the Goodwill! 150 dollar boots for 5 bucks!), donned my AppState Sweatshirt (a birthday present from College Boy...did I mention that it was size LARGE?!?! Not even an "X" in front of the "L"!), and bounded down the the stairs of the borrowed cottage. As we pulled out of the driveway I grabbed the "Transylvania County Waterfall Guide", and read up on the trail. "Difficulty - moderate to high"......hhmmmm......"4 mile scenic hike"....hmmmm......Commence the internal pep talk. "You've got this....you ZUMBA for goodness sakes....your new motto is Keep on Keepin On......" Buoyed by my own inspiring words of wisdom, I settled in for some serious scenery watching. Even with the GPS, we had some difficulty locating our intended location - DuPont State Forrest. After a few wrong turns, and finally, a quick stop to ask directions, we pulled into the Parking Lot at the head of the trail (And, not a moment too soon - I forgot to mention the two cups of coffee I drank on the ride over....and Lord have mercy, let me tell you about the line at the bathroom....I finally had John stand watch outside the Men's Room while I went in.....what?......I am not proud.....) A quick picnic at the car (No tables...it is a Forrest, NOT a park, as we were told by the volunteers in the visitors center....), and we were off. Emboldened by my store bought walking sticks, I took the lead. Up hill, down hill....the Fresh Air Mountain Smell was intoxicating. It was grey, damp and cool - my favorite! I will stop here, and share with you my theory - when they are making these hiking trails, they like to lure you in with a false sense of security....modest inclines and descents....so minor as to barely be noticeable.....until you are too far in to turn around, and then.......Lord help.
We were gaining speed, as we walked down the first major incline - I was loving life - smiling and greeting people that we passed...until it occurred to me - What goes down, must go up (In hiking, that is....). We heard the first waterfall long before we saw the sign for it. Triple Falls...such a utilitarian name for such a miraculous sight. We took a right, following the arrow....and then, I saw the stairs. They went Straight down the side of the mountain....I offer not one shred of exaggeration here when I say that from the top, you could not see the last of the stairs. My entire family turned as one, looking at me questioningly. Inside, I was screaming "NO,NO, NO....you CAN NOT DO THIS". I put on what I hope was a pleasantly brave face, and nodded towards the steps - "Let's Go!". One step at a time, down I went - making note of the sturdy benches built into the railing, at every other flight. I comforted myself with the promise that I could sit down whenever I wanted or needed to. After what seemed like an eternity, the staircase made a final turn, and there before me was a natural wonder more beautiful than any I had ever seen. I stepped down onto one of the massive stones, and burst into tears. Never in my life as a Mother had I been able to share such a thing with my children....the majesty.....the awe inspiring roar....the delicious spray of water as one Fall pooled and then spilled into another, and then another....one by one, my babies patted and embraced me - John took my hand, beaming from ear to ear. For a moment, all of us stood still - enfolded in the victory. The kids scrambled over rocks, right up to the falls - but John and I sat, side by side on a beautiful boulder - silent, each with our own thoughts. Mine ranged to the miraculous - the miracle of God's handiwork - the majesty of our surroundings. The miracle of those three precious humans that are mine - playing together, as if they were small again - my heart bursting with love and pride. The biggest miracle of all - that I was able to be there with them - a feat which, 6 months ago would have been an impossibility. We stayed a long time - reveling in the moment. Pictures were taken, and then....the ascent. 9 flights down......9 flights up. I would be lying, if I said I wasn't nervous....truth to tell, I was slightly panicked. I developed a rhythm. 2 flights...stop and rest. 2 more....stop and rest.....as I reached the top, John at my side, I was greeted by the faces I love most..... each wearing a look of pride, joy and disbelief. Laughing, we turned to face the next direction signs. One led to the rest of the trail - the other, a side trail that went all the way to the bottom of the gorge - to the pool of the third waterfall. As it turns out, the nine flights down - that was only half way down.....The trail we now faced went down a mountain.....an. entire. mountain. Giddy with my previous success, I allowed my beloved family to hoodwink me into believing that I could scale an entire mountain - Down AND Up. (Perhaps it wasn't giddiness per se....more likely it was lack of oxygen to the brain from the altitude, and my recent encounter with the aforementioned 9 flights of stairs.) Against my better judgement, one foot and one walking stick in front of the other, I began the steep descent. Dirt, gravel and kitchen words were flying, as I tried to stay on my feet. More than once, feet and walking sticks tried to skitter out from under me. Before I was a third of the way down the mountain, my leg muscles were shaking, but John was always there, and together, we made it to the base of the mountain. It seemed that once again, the Good Lord provided, because there - at the place where the trail leveled out at waters edge, was a tall boulder with a flat top - perfect for the collapse that ensued. Down I went - trembling, terrified and triumphant. As I rested, I scanned the river for a rock suitable for the rescue helicopter that would surely be dispatched post haste to get me back up the dadgummed mountain. Once again my mostly grown, little children scampered off to play in the rocks. John looked at me, laughing and shaking his head...."Honey....You made it"......indeed I had. My family knows me well enough to know that some powerful magic was going to be needed to get me back up the mountain. Teasing and laughing, they took turns walking back up with me.......a bit of a climb, a rest, a song sung in harmony or a laugh.....a bit of a climb, a rest, a song or a laugh, and in no time at all, in spite of myself - I had scaled a mountain...physically AND proverbially. The rest of the hike was a breeze, after that...up hill, down hill - covered bridges and streams. 5 miles in all.
The family took turns rubbing on me last night....8 hours in new hiking boots destroyed my feet and ankles....my thigh muscles cramped and burned. But I woke up this morning, able to move. College Boy was returned to his side of the Mountain. The car is unloaded, the laundry is started, and as I got up from the computer just now to let Crack House Puppy out, my limp was barely perceptible.
So yes, I am drinking a Coke and eating a chocolate BB Bat, in my Size Large shirt and skinny jeans. Tomorrow, the Food Log will reappear and calories will once again be counted. Tonight is for savoring.....chocolate and Coke.....Size Large shirts.....remembrances of Waterfalls and Mountain Ridges that I could once only dream about (Or see in Movies - the Hunger Games, to be exact....)...experiences and victories that now live in my sense memory....Nine flights down...Nine flights up.....one step at a time....Happy Re-Birth Day to me......
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Dance, Baby, Dance.....
I was waiting to turn right - out of the Teeter Parking Lot. I looked to my left - a long stream of traffic was approaching. I was content to wait my turn. My windows were down - a beautiful breeze was blowing - Dan Fogelberg was playing - who could ask for more? I glanced once again to my left, and my eye was immediately caught by an enormous insect - hovering mid air - two lanes over...it was MASSIVE, and what's worse, even with my ever decreasing eyesight, I could see that it was a hornet. As I am allergic to everything that stings, I reflexively pushed the button to raise the windows - laughing at myself as I did so. It was two lanes over, for goodness sake - I was well within the safety zone. Now people, I must emit a fragrance that is irresistible to lethal looking, venomous stinging things - because this sucker (pardon the upcoming pun), made a beeline straight towards me! It was at that very moment that things started to move in Slow Motion - the Hornet, winging it's way towards the open window - that very window inching it's way up....It's Not going to Make it in time!! I did what any intelligent person would do - I pushed the button harder and scrunched my eyes closed. I felt the window slide into the closed position. I cracked one eye open - then the next. I looked in the rear view mirror - whew! No flying monster anywhere in sight. The front seat was clear, as was the dashboard and all other landable interior automotive surfaces. Narrow escape!
I made my right turn, onto the busiest thruway in our town. After about half a block, I rolled the windows down, and recommenced singing harmony with my Man Dan. I rolled to a stop at the intersection with Main St. I was several cars back, which put me on eye level with The Tuesday Morning Store. As I looked to my right to see what was on the sidewalk sale, I saw a crumb on my shirt. I reached down to brush it off, when it's antennae wriggled. "That's odd", I thought to myself - "crumbs don't have antennae". I came to the realization that I hadn't even eaten anything that might have left a crumb at the exact same moment that I realized I was sporting a large, live Hornet Broach! I threw the car into park - flung the door open, jumped out - right into the highway, and proceeded to give half of my little town a show that they will never forget. It is a good thing that I have been Zumbafied. Shoulder isolations.....abdominal rolls.....hip thrusting. A dance of such magnitude it literally stopped traffic. The woman in the car behind me sat bug eyed( I know...I'm punny!) as she mouthed "Do you need help?" I started to shriek like a mad woman, as my gyrations were doing nothing to dislodge the stinging demon. In a last desperate attempt to free myself, I grabbed the hem of my tee shirt and commenced to pull it off. Thank the good Lord, at that point, the wee beastie decided that it was in it's best interest to fly away, because I was prepared to go the Full Monty - right there by Main Street. In my panic to exit the car, I did not realize that the strap of my shoulder bag was hooked around my ankle, and with the last great heave of my shirt, I pulled the bag out of the car - spilling it's contents on the road, causing me to fall. I saved myself from contact with the pavement at the last moment by hooking an arm through the open window. As I bent to snatch up my bag and it's strewn contents, I gave a weak little wave to the massive line of cars that were now backed up - their drivers slack jawed and pole axed. The changing light, long since turned green, seemed to awaken the drivers from their stupors, and the cars slowly moved around and past me. With as much dignity as I could muster, I threw my bag in the car, and dove in after it. As I put the car in drive, I caught sight of my very red face in the mirror, and then I smiled.......still stopping traffic in my Fifties....that's just how I roll.
I made my right turn, onto the busiest thruway in our town. After about half a block, I rolled the windows down, and recommenced singing harmony with my Man Dan. I rolled to a stop at the intersection with Main St. I was several cars back, which put me on eye level with The Tuesday Morning Store. As I looked to my right to see what was on the sidewalk sale, I saw a crumb on my shirt. I reached down to brush it off, when it's antennae wriggled. "That's odd", I thought to myself - "crumbs don't have antennae". I came to the realization that I hadn't even eaten anything that might have left a crumb at the exact same moment that I realized I was sporting a large, live Hornet Broach! I threw the car into park - flung the door open, jumped out - right into the highway, and proceeded to give half of my little town a show that they will never forget. It is a good thing that I have been Zumbafied. Shoulder isolations.....abdominal rolls.....hip thrusting. A dance of such magnitude it literally stopped traffic. The woman in the car behind me sat bug eyed( I know...I'm punny!) as she mouthed "Do you need help?" I started to shriek like a mad woman, as my gyrations were doing nothing to dislodge the stinging demon. In a last desperate attempt to free myself, I grabbed the hem of my tee shirt and commenced to pull it off. Thank the good Lord, at that point, the wee beastie decided that it was in it's best interest to fly away, because I was prepared to go the Full Monty - right there by Main Street. In my panic to exit the car, I did not realize that the strap of my shoulder bag was hooked around my ankle, and with the last great heave of my shirt, I pulled the bag out of the car - spilling it's contents on the road, causing me to fall. I saved myself from contact with the pavement at the last moment by hooking an arm through the open window. As I bent to snatch up my bag and it's strewn contents, I gave a weak little wave to the massive line of cars that were now backed up - their drivers slack jawed and pole axed. The changing light, long since turned green, seemed to awaken the drivers from their stupors, and the cars slowly moved around and past me. With as much dignity as I could muster, I threw my bag in the car, and dove in after it. As I put the car in drive, I caught sight of my very red face in the mirror, and then I smiled.......still stopping traffic in my Fifties....that's just how I roll.
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