Good Morning...
Hope it is for you folks anyway... ...My (computer) mouse has seemingly become addicted to some amphetamines, and is zig~zagging all over my screen.
Now you ALL know that my phone lines here are ancient at best- (probably installed by the late Alexander Graham Bell himself); and as such it takes forever to download even a single page (or is that "UP"load)? ... Who the heck cares?
I cannot even get cable here, SO while I wait for the pokey 'puter to down/up any 'loads', I usually play some spider solitaire. But this morning I have already learned that it is downright impossible to play this game while your mouse is a speed addict... (And yes, I have uninstalled it and re~installed this rodentious mouse of mine)... Oh well...
With our light dusting of snow here, (and my own little memories of real snow in January), I decided to pull out one of my old journals...
Now why I decided to do that TODAY is beyond me...
Knowing that there is NO such thing as a coincedence, I can only attribute it to my mother... 'guiding' me in some way, to do so. She freaks out the dogs from time to time too! (And yes, she has been 'gone' since '98)...
Accordingly, I listen to my guts (and my mother), I go upstairs, dig out the journal I want, and find my entry....
How very COOL that this entry is dated JANUARY 9th, 1985!!!
A snowman that was standing- I had built it two days before my dad passed away...
It was still standing as the story below unfolded...
.
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***I might also caution that you might not care to be drinking (or eating) anything while you read it... (knowing full well that my friends here have this somewhat sadistic streak and are bound to be laughing at my pain); they could potentially have drink or food spurting from their noses... You HAVE been warned!
So here goes nothin'...
TWENTY~TWO YEARS AGO, TODAY...
My Ass Hurts.
Please do not laugh... (And I trust that whomever may be reading this in years to come will NOT find any malicious humor in the story I am about to relate):
I find myself in a very uncomfortable seated position as I begin to recall the de'tails' of what began as a wonderful Sunday afternoon at my mothers home in the country. And after such a grand Saturday night, (which I will get to later), I was really fired up!
A warm-ish day for winter, the girls were out by the barn; spirits high as they were sledding down the barngrade.
Their squeals of delight, (and unabashed enthusiasm), were almost too much for me to bear... as I recalled (with an envious pang), my own childhood days of sledding down that hill.
I found that I could resist no longer; and decided to take my first sled ride in many many years...
Out to that hill I ran! (Neglecting to put on my snowsuit, or even a coat, hat or mittens)...
As I ran up that hill, I (nicely) threatened to push a small child off her sled if she refused to relinquish it herself.
Somewhat hesitantly, one of those little kids, (then 7, 6, and 4), forfeited their sled to me, (deciding to forego any possible ramifications of NOT doing so)...
Incidentally, this sled was exactly like the one pictured at the top of this page, except it was a bright red...
In my greed, I quickly sat upon the little magic red carpet... I find myself quite firmly 'planted' in a hole, and cannot go anywhere...
Not giving up on the hope for a thrill, I readjust my position on that hill. I realize that I am now staring my possible demise right in the face; as I focus on the two telephone poles directly in front of me. (Meanwhile, at my side stands a patient, innocent child, awaiting the return of her sled)...
Once again to realign my position- carefully, cautiously, I am finally facing the house.
My blood is pumping furiously with an excitement comparable to the night before, (which I will get to later).
I wildly anticipate the upcoming 'ride', the thrill of the downhill flight; and can actually 'feel' the wind whipping through my hair. This impending imminent thrill can no longer be denied, detained or delayed any longer...
ALL SYSTEMS ARE "GO" !!!
It takes all three of those little girls to push me off to a flying start... With my heart now beating wildly in my throat, I begin my descent... Slowly at first... Gaining speed and momentum I clutch the little handle firmly between my thighs. The ecstacy of traveling at such a high rate of speed takes my very breath away; and an unmistakable sound of delight escapes from my throat...
Suddenly, from out of nowhere ...a little bump. (I really hadn't noticed it on the way up the hill?); and I literally begin to FLY (a might ungracefully), about 5 feet into the air... Realizing in a split~second that my little red sled has now deserted me, (I think this is called centrifugal force)... I see that I am about to fall quickly to the ground, (Sadly, I think THIS is called 'gravity')...
Soundlessly, I land. And FLAT ON MY POSTERIOR! ...My smiling face quickly turning to a frozen and facetious grin as I realize I am impaled upon a outcropping of frozen tundra... This little piece of 'land' is perhaps the size of an egg, (and with the density of cast iron).
As my pain grows greater and deeper, I realize with an overwhelming sadness that my three wonderful, cherubic children have burst into side~splitting gales of hysteria after witnessing my flight! ... I am left truly alone with this intimate pain, (not to mention my injured and twisted pride).
Slowly I try to move, fully intending to rise up, return the sled and walk gracefully into the house.
In my mind, and in my intentions, I do stand upright; sauntering gaily into the house... And all the while, whistling a happy tune and remembering the wildly uninhibited evening before, (which I will get to later).
In reality though, my body refused to budge off that sled, the iron goose egg impaled upon my tailbone...
...As I cursed the masochistic frozen ground that threatened to disable me for life, I slowly tipped to one side, (much like a tree falls in the forest).
Now with my once happy face very unceremoniously 'blowing' a snowbank, I realize I AM alive; (although my backside may NEVER be the same again)...
Cautiously I draw my ungloved hands to my own shoulders and push myself upwards in excruciating pain as I then pull my legs into something very closely resembling the fetal position....
Unpredictably, I only tip over the other way. (Yes, "Anne" means grace)!
Suffering, (and in obvious, AGONIZING pain), I get yet another glimpse of my angelic daughters; grasping their little bellies, laughing, and ogling their own flesh~and~blood mother with unpretentious delight! Though at this point, I realize I am looking and acting much like a "weeble"...
...More laughter from above... How very hideous!!!
My maimed and injured pride quickly and strongly surpasses the inviolate pain in my butt, and I quickly compose myself to stand erect.
As my sense of balance threatens to desert me in my time of need, I actually 'waddle' to the house as quickly as my tortured body will allow. (I never did return that little plastic torture device to the child; she had to collect it herself)...
My frozen sardonic smile was still in place as I enter the warm safety of my mothers home, and maybe even my mothers' arms...
I realize quickly there will be no comfort and no consolation. My own mother, (moving with a painless ease), rounds the corner of the kitchen with tears in her eyes... One look, one short glance, tells me these tears are only spawns of hysteria! ...She too, laughing uncontrollably at the sight she has just witnessed from the warmth (and safety) of her kitchen window.
Totally confused, feeling alone, abandoned, and miserable, I have nursed my @ss for the last four days.
And while it is true I may never be the same again, I HAVE learned from this experience and invaluable lesson...
I have learned what exactly a "pain in the ass" really is! ...Oh, and about Saturday night? I will get to that later...
XOXO
Anne
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