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Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Scribble and Scrambles - A Long Night in Iowa


Do you ever feel your patience wearing thin?

Right now, the puppies are junk-yard dog wrestling.
Cute, except for the following facts.

It's 10:20 p.m.

Feral Will is on the desk teasing them. Two annoying things there....desk, teasing.


Dogs get bored. What? How can they be bored when there is another dog and humans to interact with, not to mention fifty million toys? They have spent the past-half-hour, while I'm trying to get my ducks in a row for tomorrow, nudging me, disobeying me, body slamming me, and begging. Now, they have curled up and are resting at my feet while Feral knocks items from the desk onto the floor.


The remainder of the evening was spent chauffeuring and attempting to be a good parent while taking sixteen-year-old to work, then returning to pick her up from work and rushing to school for a two-part drop off, then squeezing in an errand and returning to school for a band concert -- number seventy-two this year -- (okay slight exaggeration). I love music. I love my kid. But I do not love evenings spent hauling, sitting, hauling, waiting.


It's not a surprise to me that my mind wandered during the concert. I found myself dreaming up a book plot (and writing it down), then thinking about the bills I have to pay, and then why so many of the males on stage have shaved heads, and how the guys feel about wearing gold glitter sashes?


All of a sudden the musicians spotlights completely shut down. The band continued to play, but the audience as one, turned toward the light booth....just in time to see a brave man jump up on the last row of seats in front of the sound booth, pry open the sliding glass window and launch himself in. After being mesmerized by his khaki rear end and his flailing legs, I realized that the lights were back on.

Sweet.


Who was that masked man?

1 comment:

Kim said...

Kelly,
This was great! I can just picture myself acting and reacting as you did! Thanks for sharing a little peek into your daily world...mystery men and all!

Kim