Nightmares

My husband has been battling a nasty cold for the last few days. Friday night it peaked and this is a summary of what followed. I had worked the Home Show and returned late at night. 

 We needed quite a bit of time to unwind so we did not head to bed until midnight. That's when the snoring began. 

 This was the cadillac of snoring. He would rapidly fall asleep and then it would sound as if he was sucking his entire body down his throat only to spew it up moments later. This went on for an hour. 

 I decided to take a bath. From the bathroom I continued to hear the tortured snoring. 

 Sadly, after returning to bed it continued for 1 1/2 more hours. It finally ceased but by then I was afraid he had stopped breathing. He hadn't. Thankfully, around 3a.m. I fell deeply asleep. 

Sometime later I heard him let out a loud shout and then yell, "What was that?" He then shot across the bed dragging the bedclothes, shoved me out of the bed, and deposited me next to the dresser where he held me tightly saying, "What was that? What was in the bed? Are you ok? Are you ok?"

 I have no idea why I'm standing next to the dresser rubbing my knee. Or why Russ is clutching me. I did see something fly out of the bed and I was looking anxiously around the room for "something scary". 

Now ala, Paul Harvey, for the rest of the story. It seems that he was having a nightmare that someone was coming in through the bedroom window and trying to grab me. The cat decided at that moment to jump between our pillows. Pippin was tossed out of the bed, the bedclothes followed, and my valiant husband scooped me away to safety. 

 Unfortunately, that was into the side of the dresser. So today I have a bruised knee, a funny story, and a hero.

Common phrases, Uncommon Day

It’s always the darkest before dawn. Especially if you are hitting the snooze button and pretending that it’s the middle of the night. 

 One morning I got up determined to put my best foot forward but after attempting three different outfits I had to call a spade a spade and admit that this early bird was not catching the worm. 

 My husband who is a man after my heart woke up on the wrong side of the bed and was giving me the hairy eyeball. Perhaps it was because it was raining cats and dogs outside. Nevertheless, I cheerfully said, “Keep a stiff upper lip. Don’t get your dander up. There’s a song in my heart and I’m ready for love.”

 My effort went over like a lead balloon and I realized if I continued to mess with the bull, I was going to get the horns. Time passed and there was no use beating around the bush, it was time to go to work. I rode shotgun.

 I was expecting an easy day and Russ reminded me not to count my chickens before they were hatched. “The best rule of thumb is to cut to the chase and to realize that what goes around, comes around. Don’t beat around the bush and if it all goes down the tubes, remember that loose lips sink ships.” 

 With all this encouragement I girded up my loins and got my foot in the door and was determined to mind my p’s and q’s. The day began like a shot and soon I was busier than a one armed paper hanger. 

 One crisis followed another but I was on it like white on rice even though occasionally the right hand didn’t know what the left hand was doing. 

 Our newest employee who was still wet behind the ears resembled a chicken with its head cut off but after I encouraged her to pass the buck she was much better. The client that was a fry short of a happy meal was made an offer she couldn’t refuse and that hit the nail on the head. 

 At the end of the day my boss complimented me by saying I was a chip off the old block and though I’d felt like a fish out of water that was a shot in the arm. 

 When Russ picked me up I commented, “Even though it felt like things were going to hell in a handbasket, we snatched victory from the jaws of defeat and right now I’m as happy as a clam.” So ended another day. And before I kick the bucket or am pushing up daisies I wanted to share it with you.

Grandchildren

My grandchildren give me so much joy. I guess being able to observe kids and the way they process information is too precious. 

We were talking with the boys about natural disasters and I was telling them what it was like to have a tornado pass through. We used to go down the basement, hide under my dad's work bench, and pull a mattress over the opening. 

 Their Paacha had the bright idea of showing them excerpts from the movie "Twister" so that they could see a tornado. We rarely have them in VT. 

They went on up ahead of me and I entered the room to see the boys, Karl (7) and Dominic (5) with just their heads peeking out from under the futon to watch the movie. Did they think it was comparable to me hiding under a workbench. Every time I think of it, I smile.

Writing a book

I'm in the process of compiling columns that I've written over the past eight years into a book. It's been time consuming, but fun, and will fulfill a dream that I've always had.

 Lately, people have been coming up to me with story ideas for the book. It's especially funny when they ask if it can be included in the book. The idea may be one line, or even as much as three, but there's really not a story, it's definitely not written, and it's not mine. 

What should be the answer when the book is already in the process of being formatted and the stories have been picked? Should I suggest a second book? I've got to get through the first one. 

 I haven't even mentioned everyone who wants to be on Oprah with me. I'll discuss that with her, Oprah, later. (right)

Teachers

It's a funny thing about teachers, at least some of them, they have to teach. Now their field of expertise might be Calculus, Economics, Chemistry, or even Hopscotch, but they feel compelled to teach everyone. Having a conversation about gardening? They may explain at length the value of mulch, raised beds, or fertilizer. Offer them a cup of coffee and you are regaled with how coffee beans are processed. 

Share a drive and learn about anti-lock brakes. This is always done in a patient caring way. Careful instruction is given with a lot of eye contact since surely you are not mentally capable of understanding on your own. 

OH, did I mention volleyball? Apply the above approach to volleyball and you will understand why I completely freeze and am incapable of putting one foot in front of the other when approached this way.

 I could always try tiddly winks, but I'm sure a teacher would be there.

volleyball woes

Tonight we will be playing volleyball. Now volleyball is one of my favorite games but my play has been limited to backyard picnics and reunions. 

 When I say volleyball, I mean people that are serious about it. The odd thing is that everyone has a little bit different take on the rules, and generally, you find out what you did wrong after the error. Knowing the rule could have made it simpler. 

One night when I was on the front line on the right, another player informed me that, "This whole space is mine. If I can reach it, it's mine. If you get in my way, I will run you over." Need I say that this did not inspire trust or confidence in me? And I spent most of the night staying out of his way. 

Later after I let the third ball drop between us, someone said, "Those are y

our balls." I replied, "He said if he could get it, he would, or he'd run me over. I'm staying out of his way." Long, awkward pause...some mumbling of denial on his part and the game goes on... More stories to come.