Here's the scene: People standing on the edge of a rocky high cliff, glorying at the scenery below.
Here's Irene, cringing. They're gonna fall off.
People trudging through the snow, or better yet, people on a ski lift, dangling there above the ground.
Children throwing snowballs at trucks. No, make that ice balls and smashing the windshield of the oncoming car. They run away through the foot deep snow. What fun?
Nope.
Take it to another season.
Jumping in piles of leaves that they just raked through the whole yard.
Searching in mud through rows of orange pumpkins for just the right one. Feeling that first brisk wind tear through your too-light jacket.
Or, how about frying in the sun?
Diving into a freezing cold pool or ocean or lake?
None of these things are appealing to me.
I can watch scenery from a window. I don't want to ski. Last time I skated was okay, but my thighs got chilblains.
Shoveling snow is back breaking. I don't care if it looks like marshmallow, it is cold, wet and heavy. Oh, my back!
Don't talk to me about driving in snow or ice or fog!
I am not an outdoorsy person, unless there is a horse involved, and even that would take a mighty fantastic horse to get me outside.
Spent the first big holiday without Mom.
Spent it with husband's family as far away from Central New Jersey as I could get.
Two days in the new car there, two days back home.
In a way, I think it cleansed my soul, but something happened that also cleansed my digestive tract. I got sick. Really sick. Never leave the bathroom sick. Not because of the lovely Thanksgiving dinner, no, not that. I think it was coming on before we left home.
But...a sick stomach is dangerous.
It rained. Parts of NC and parts of VA were flooded. When we came home, we found that parts of NJ were flooded also.
All I can say is, Thank God it wasn't snow.
All of us in 6th grade Miss Clancy's class had to perform in the holiday assembly. She painted a beautiful autumnal backdrop and we liked up on risers in the front of the stage to sing along to Miss Titler's piano.
Swing the shining sickle, cut the ripened grain!
Flash it in the sunlight, swing it once again.
Tie the golden grainheads into shining sleeves,
beautiful the colors of the autumn leaves.
Then we broke into the Pilgrim's Anthem:
The breaking waves dashed high, on the stern and rockbound coast.
The trees against the stormy sky, their giant branches tossed.
The heavy night hung dark, the trees and waters o'er,
when a band of exiles moored their bark on the wild New England shore.
This was the fall of 1960. JFK had just been elected president. I had the best teacher in the school and it was going to be a good holiday.
Why were we singing songs with words that had to be explained to us? No idea what a sickle was nor a grainhead. We were singing songs from the turn of the 20th century.
I wonder if anyone but me remembers those stupid ancient songs!
I'm gonna try to look them up on Google, see if they are not just a figment of my imagination.
