Between a rock and a hard place, the devil and the deep blue sea, chocolate or vanilla! Oh, impossible, impossible choices!
I ran around the house like a wild woman this morning Getting Things Done before leaving for Soup Day. It was so insane that I even had to put “eat breakfast” and “bathe” on my to-do list, so I wouldn’t forget to do them.
At 10:45, I burst out the front door, ready to dash to McDonald’s for my tea flavored sugar water and then to Soup Day, when my eyes were hit with a breathtaking dose of splendorous wonder. It was beauty as would make one weep. The children and I leaned on each other, sobbing, and pointing at the cottony confections of clouds in the azure sky until we gained control of our soaring emotions. “It’s just so…so beautiful,” Boy7 eked out, doubling over in sobs of rapture.
After wiping our tears with a hanky, I tried my best to get us to McDonald’s, but instead of making a left, Alex (my camera) reached over and yanked the car wheel to the right, pulled us over, and insisted on taking a picture of these geese against a backdrop of majestic nature.
Apparently, Kris saw us pulled over and wondered what we were doing, because when we finally did make it to McDonald’s she was the car in front of us. I took her picture. I told you that Kris is a great subject for pictures. Doesn’t she look great? Very cool in her red car and shades.
We barely made it to Soup. I was so torn: Picture Taking or Soup? Picture Taking or Soup?! This was my impossible choice. If I were a robot, my head would have started smoking and my eyes would have popped out and dangled down on curly springs. I had to put the car on cruise control and drive with my eyes squinted almost shut, because everywhere I looked was pretty as a picture. And with Alex at my side, it was nigh to impossible not to stop the car and take all those pictures. However, I used my considerable powers of self-control and got us to Soup Day, planning on spending tomorrow afternoon picture taking.
Ate the soup and clucked and squawked with the other women at Soup Day.
And after Soup, it was Grocery Shopping Day. While I was at the store, I happened to bump into Gloria. I sang out, “Glooooria!” and she turned and was soooo delighted to see me and Alex. I caught her moment of joy and delight at having her picture taken:
The first thing she said was, “Oh no! It’s your Grocery Shopping Day! Am I going to leave the store to a freak thunderstorm or are the rain gods leaving you alone today?” But then she cut herself off to say, thoughtfully, “No…I guess you had all your rain on Friday at Hershey Park.”
And this is my new normal, now. I ask people about their lives and they give me updates, but I can’t tell people about my life anymore. This is what happens:
OTHER PERSON: Jackie! What’s up?
ME: Well, on Friday…
OP: You were at Hershey Park!
Me: Um. Yeah. I tried to get the kids to ride…
OP: A wooden roller coaster! Yeah, those things are rough.
ME: Um. Yeah. It rained…
OP: Oh, man! It rained all over you guys! For four hours!
OP: Will you write about me in your blog tonight? I’ll be famous!
Oh, you might not think people want to be in The Blog, but they do. Oh, yes, they do. I’ve taken Barbetta’s picture a number of times, but it just so happens that I haven’t used it yet and she’s starting to get paranoid as to why she’s not made it into The Blog. “Do I always have something in my teeth? How come I don’t ever make it into The Blog?”
Two nights ago, and you can look at the comments to see, Melissa was thrilled to be in The Blog. Kris claps her hands together when she realizes she’s in The Blog, and said that her husband was tickled that he made it in. He was the one at the picnic who would only let me take pictures of his tattoos. If I don’t mention Darling Husband every few nights or so, he gets mopey, “What? I didn’t make it into The Blog today?” I made up stories about Scott beating us with sticks at Photo Club and asked him, “Do you mind if I post a bunch of unflattering lies about you on The Blog?” and he was so thrilled just to be in The Blog that he didn’t put up one peep of protest. And I’m sure I’m missing someone who has hinted loudly about wanting to be in The Blog….if I remember you, I’ll add you in tomorrow’s post.
Barbetta’s husband, Jeff, has resorted to writing a three part mini-series for me to post as a way of getting himself in The Blog, and Michael’s writing a post while on vacation next week.
Oh, there’s so much more to say, so I’ll wrap this up quickly (yeah,right…)
First of all, Gloria is one of my most favorite people to hang out with. She reminds me a lot of Melissa. Whenever I’m with Gloria, I end up laughing so much that my lungs hurt. Honest. By the time we’re done, I’m so worn out that I need a nap and my chest hurts for the rest of the day.
I’m starting to realize the common thread with my friends. They’re storytellers. They’re willing to sit back and tell involved and detailed stories no matter how long it takes to get to the punchline. And not only are they storytellers, but they’re funny storytellers. If you’re a funny storyteller, willing to drag a story out for as long as it takes to unfold, then I’m willing to sit at your feet and listen.
Along with Gloria’s funny stories, she also has a scary story. To tell it properly takes at least 20 minutes, but I’ll recap it here:
A couple of years ago, a man was stalking her. Every morning, after she dropped off her son at school, she would stop by Walmart. And every morning, a man was waiting for her and would follow her around the store with his shopping cart and stare at her. Soon, his facial expressions became more and more threatening. She finally wrote down his license plate number and went to the police. The police pulled him into the station and accused him of stalking Gloria. He denied it and the officer said, “I know you’re lying. And you’re never going to go anywhere near this woman ever again. Because if anything happens to her, you will be our number one suspect and we’ll be coming for you.” Ooooo! She never saw him again.
Anyway, after being out of the house for 6 hours today, I got home to find that the door to the freezer had been propped open all day and everything in the freezer was half thawed. I popped down to Gerhard’s house and he said, (because he reads The Blog, too), “Well, it didn’t rain on your grocery shopping day; it was the freezer instead.”
And, to close out this very long post, after I gave Janet (Gerhard’s wife) a ride to get her car, my self-control crumbed, and I pulled the car over to take pictures of these daisies.
Done! And maybe tomorrow, you’ll be in The Blog.