I just wrote this in response to an email from a frustrated, homeschooling friend. ;-)
...another $0.02 for you!
A blog for my fellow black-and-white (and sometimes pink) minded comrades...for those who bravely scale the slopes of motherhood...for those who choose to face life straight on, even when doing so requires a Snugli, a double stroller and a dog leash...for those who know you shouldn't lean over the toilet to help a child while holding the cordless phone with only your shoulder...and for those who are near tears after being reminded of similar incidents (or from laughing at me). Welcome!
We'd been sitting there for the last hour-and-a-half, watching and waiting. My troops were growing restless. That annoying drainage tube had foiled our plans once again. Well, I'd better start from the beginning.
I am a white spotted, black spider and I used to live in a village just above a gutter on Lynn Blvd. During my childhood I'd learned the ins and outs of gutter travel. I'd recently left home to join the Arachnial Guard at the prime age of 12 days. My regiment was sent to camp right below the spout of an especially troublesome gutter. Our primary objective was to scale the inside and reach the top. What we would find, or why we would attempt this nearly impossible trip, I'm unsure. But orders are orders.
Finally the rain had stopped. The camp was rushing about, as usual. The final preparations were being made. As not sure to when the rain would start again after it stopped, we had to be ready to move at a moment's notice. The camp was now silent, again, watching and waiting. Then the water stopped.
Immediately, group after group shot up the spout. Being an itsy, bitsy spider,one wasted no time, for the journey was long.
Past the three quarter check mark, we heard a faint rumble. Where I stood there was a pin-prick hole in the spout. With my far left eye I noticed a dark shape rolling in from the sky. With the hair on each of my eight legs, I sensed a sudden increase of humidity. Then a brief light filled the sky. But what caught my attention most was a single drop of rain, slowly falling to the ground in a tidal wave. All who didn't want to risk a high speed, watery descent, with a back-breaking halt as they hit the ground, then darted back down the spout.
I got out just before the raging river of water shot past me. Humiliated and cold,I stared defiantly at the top of the huge spout. "One day," I thought, waving three angry fists in the air, "we will find a way, have no doubt." We took our usual places, and once more, we watched and waited.
I've been tagged by my Twitter-girlfriend at Journey 2 Learn to write this post. I will do it, but I warn you, the squeamish should look away now!
No! There's nothing coarse or indelicate written here. I only mean, if you tend envision me with a luminous halo floating just slightly above my head, I'd rather keep it that way. ;-)
Just remember... people grow up, people change...
I'll list my little tidbits in the order of what (I think) you'll find least exciting to, most uhh... interesting. Tidbits #2, 3, 5, 6, & 7 are from an article I first posted here on January 20, 2007.
So there you have it. Seven things you would've probably never guessed about me in a million, trillion years. If you are still courageous enough to admit to knowing, or being related to, me...please comment and include seven things I'd never guess about you. Since you now know me so well I'd like to get better acquainted with you too. Come on! It'll be fun!
Tag! You're it:
The woman was old and ragged and gray
And bent with the chill of the winter's day.
She stood at the crossing, and waited long,
Alone, uncared for, amid the throng
Of human beings who passed her by
Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eye.
Down the street with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of school let out,
Came the boys like a flock of sheep,
Hailing the snow piled white and deep.
Past the woman so old and gray,
Hastened the children on their way,
Nor offered a helping hand to her,
So meek, so timid, afraid to stir,
Lest the carriage wheels or the horses' feet
Should crowd her down in the slippery street.
At last came one of the merry troop-
The finest laddie of all the group.
He paused beside her, and whispered low,
"I'll help you across, if you wish to go."
He guided the trembling feet along;
Proud that his own were firm and strong.
Then back again to his friends he went,
His young heart happy and well content.
"She's somebody's mother, boys, you know,
For all she's aged and poor and slow;
"And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my mother, you understand,
"If ever she's poor and old and gray,
When her own dear boy is far away."
And "somebody's mother" bowed low her head
In her home that night, and the prayer she said
Was, "God be kind to the noble boy
Who is somebody's son and pride and joy!"