Easter Surprise

I'm usurping titles again (this time it's our minister's, who entitled his sermon Sunrise Suprise). But it seemed appropriate.   Because my Easter took a surprising turn (forgive the pun, which you'll understand in a moment) this morning as I was walking down the hallway at church, deep in conversation with one of my friends, when I felt my (pink high heel clad) foot slip (on the over zealously buffed tile floor).  In order to prevent a total fall to the ground, I managed a quick contorted manuever, grabbing onto the bookshelf, and landed solidly on the side of my left foot.

Ouch! A sharp, ice pick type pain in my foot, followed by a wave of nausea -whoa! 

All kinds of people streaming past, smiling, greeting one another - wait!  My friend is still talking - she hasn't noticed yet - oh! - I think I need to sit down.

Okay...maybe it's not so bad.  A few minutes in a chair - yes, I think I can stand.  It's alright (I think).

So, the show service goes on.  I stand up through all the usual Easter musical hoopla - four or five hymns, the Hallelujah Chorus, two handbell pieces.  I stand around talking to another friend (who is on crutches because she broke her foot four weeks ago!!) and finally limp my way out to the car.

We come home, have a nice breakfast (courtesy of my mother, who is of course extremely concerned) because by now I'm limping quite noticeably, and there is a rather Easter eggish sized lump forming on the top of my foot.

"You need to have that X-rayed," she tells me.

I know she's right.  She's always right when it comes to things like this.

But I procrastinate.  Because I'm making dinner today - it's already made, as a matter of fact, just ready to go into the oven.  So we go home, and I set the table, and enlist Jim's help (for a change!)  and everything turns out fine, except that by the end of the meal, the Easter eggish lump on my foot is now a baseball sized lump on my foot, and it hurts like hell!

Well, s&*#, f^%*, and d"*#.

Rest of the story in  a nutshell.

Emergency room.

Fracture.

Splint.

Crutches.

Six weeks.

Easter Surprise.

Spring Has...?

Sprung, is how the sentence should end.  Flown the coop is more apt.

Yes dear friends and readers, once again I've left behind balmy tropical breezes and sunny blue skies only to be greeted with another snow dump.

Five inches last night.

But~ the sun is shining and the sky is blue - at least I'll say that.  If I spend the day only gazing upward, I might fool myself into believing I'm still in Neverland. 

However, you all know I'm not one to remain in Neverland too long, for the fascinating lure of responsibility calls me...work, most notably, an 800 page stack of medical records that must be read, digested, and summarized all nice and neat for the attorney's and the insurance company. 

I've been through my entire repetroire of delaying tactics...I've exercised, gone walking, made a fresh pot of coffee, picked up the house...let's see, maybe I should quick put on boots and shovel a path in the backyard for the doggies to wade through...

Wait...

I believe it's lunchtime.  Or almost at any rate.

So you see how easily I am dissuaded from working.  

Working at home is definitely a mixed blessing, I think, for while it gives me the kind of freedom to take days off in the middle of the week (and go play in the sunshine), it means I must shove aside all the other lures of home and buckle down to task when a deadline looms ahead of me.  

So perhaps its just as well that the weather has turned frightful, as it gives me less excuses to procrastinate that moment when I must glue myself to the desk chair and set to work.

And maybe by the time I've finished, the snow will be all melted...

Sigh.

Dream on.  

Neverland

It's late in the evening, here on our last day in Walt Disney World, a place that (depending on your point of view) is a magical place of wonder and adventure, or an overpriced piece of capitalist consumerism.   In fact, there is truth in both perspectives. 

And while I rarely write politically here at the Byline, my thoughts tonight are straying into that realm, because as I sit here in my lovely hotel room, having spent the past three days wandering through amusement parks in this artifical neverland, I find myself wondering if we're all burying our heads in the sand.

America has spent the past five years at war.  I hate war.  I've always hated war.  When my son was born 28 years ago, I remember thinking (as they wheeled me out of the delivery room) that I could never let him go to war.  And yet, thousands of mothers of sons and daughters are doing just that - and sometimes their children are not coming home. 

Our economy is in the worst crisis I can remember in my lifetime.  Homes all over my neighborhood have been lost to foreclosure.  Businesses are failing left and right.  People in my state are surviving only because they have credit cards to pay for groceries, gas, and medications.

Medical care is in crisis, as people continue to live longer and longer, and do not have the means to pay for the health care they need. 

Since the time of the Great Depression, has America ever been in such dire straits? 

And yet, my family (and quite a few other families, to judge by the crowds in the park today) are able to take lovely vacations in places where we're encourgaed to forget all our troubles, put our cares behind us, and "dream a million dreams."

I'm all for dreaming - I think dreams are necessary and vital.  But are we dreaming too much?  Are we living in our own little "neverland," so accustomed to America always coming out on top that we're turning a blind eye to the serious dilemmas we face? Shouldn't we be applying some old fashioned elbow grease to the difficulties that plague this nation, and finding a way to fix the disasters that have developed in this country over the past eight years? 

After a few days in the magical world of Disney, I always find myself more than ready to return home to the nitty gritty of my every day life.  While I can marvel at those "imagineers" who created this place, and as nice as it is to escape from the "real world" of work and domestic responsibility,  I feel a craving to return to those normal routines, the day to day reality of life.

Whomever we elect in November has to bear the awesome responsibility of taking on a country in crisis.  The next leader of this nation must be someone with dreams and with imagination, but also someone highly intelligent and firmly grounded in common sense.

We just can't live in Neverland any longer.

The Annual Disney Excursion

The title of this post has been usurped from my son's blog, but since he is (a very important) part of the aforementioned Annual Disney Escursion, I don't think he'll mind.  You see, we're all off to Orlando tomorrow - we're flying south,  Brian and Nantana are driving northeast, and we'll be meeting in Disney World sometime in the late afternoon. We've been having Disney Excursions since 1988 -and we've had a lot of them.  After our first trip, when Brian was eight, we became so enamored of the place, we started going at least once a year.  We learned more about the ins and outs of Disney World than some of the employees -knew all the little tricks about where to stand get the best view of parades, the secret entrances to rides, the best places to eat...before long we felt as if we owned the place. 

In 1996, we decided to purchase our own little bit of Disney World - the Disney Vacation Club, an allotted number of points each year to be used at any of the Disney Resorts world wide.  It's all paid for now, and we own this bit of Disney magic until 2045.  So come what may, we're entitled to our Annual Disney Excursion for quite a few more years.  In 2045, I expect someone (a great-grandchild perhaps??) will be pushing me around the Magic Kingdom in a wheelchair.

We've had some wonderful times there, as a family, as couples (Jim and I alone, and Brian and Nantana have enjoyed mini-vacations on their own, since they live within a comfortable three hours drive away).  We've taken friends at varying times through the years.  When Brian was in 8th grade, we took him, and his best friend for a week and basically turned the boys loose - they had their own room and free rein in the parks and arcade.   Of course, during his teenage years, he was typically blase about the whole thing, and for about three years or so, Jim and I went on the Annual Disney Adventure alone (which was fun in its own way :)

Amazingly enough, Brian ended up attending college in Winter Park, Florida, just 30 minutes from the gates of Disney World.  We had annual park passes, and I have some wonderful memories of just driving over to Epcot for an afternoon of lunch, wandering, and people watching.  Once, I really splurged, and went for tea at the Grand Floridian Hotel.  All by myself.

And now, here we are once again, embarking on a Disney Adventure.  It's become a time to relax, revisit some good times from the past, and plan for more memory making times in the future.  And we're all looking forward to the time in years to come when there will be a new generation to introduce to the Disney Magic. 

So, I'll see you all when I return -rested, rejuvenated, and proudly wearing my mouse ears.  

Sunday Scribblings-Experiment

I have to admit, I'm not much for experimenting.  I prefer to have some clear knowledge of outcomes before I try anything new - it's my inner control freak at work.  And the nature of experimentation is completely antithetical to that premise (wow, was I channeling a scientist with that statement?) However, two years ago (to this day, in fact) I tried a rather bold experiment.  You see, it was my birthday - my 50th birthday - and I was quite an unhappy girl.  In contrast to my life at 30 and even 40, my life at 50 seemed so stagnant and dull.  I was treading water, following along in the same well worn rut,  just like an old grey mare.

So I decided to get out my pencils and start writing.  You see, I've always loved writing, and I used to do quite a bit of it - I even had some stories and essays published once upon a time.  But for many years I had been involved in other things - raising a child, running a home, working, playing music - and writing fell by the wayside.

But instead of picking up pen and paper, I sat down at my laptop and clicked onto Blogger.  Why not do my writing at the computer? I thought.   I could actually create my own literary kingdom, a private "newspaper," where I could "publish" without being subjected to the whims of unfriendly editors.

And so, on March 9, 2006, Becca's Byline was born - a birthday present to myself, an experimental foray into the world of cyber publishing.

Two years and 480 posts later, I'm convinced it was the best present I've ever given myself.   Not only have I met scads of interesting, intelligent, creative people, whose words have inspired me in every possible way, I have fallen in love with writing all over again.  I've written more in the past two years than I would have dreamed possible - why, I've even written two novels!   I feel more intelligent, creative, thoughtful, and insightful than at any other time in my life.   So as I continue into this second half of my century here on earth, I do so with an increased sense of excitement and satisfaction derived from this marvelous foray into the world of writing.

 And to think it all began with a little experiment...

links to more experiments are shared here