And Then...

Kathleen is having a party tonight. It is ostensibly a "hole digging" party. She has fruit and nut trees she needed to plant and hasn't had the energy so instead of digging the holes herself, she planned a party, mowed a pasture and a yard, cleaned her house, had the carpets professionally cleaned, had some plumbing and electrical problems fixed and made an entire dinner so that people would come over to dig a few holes.

Uh-huh. Sure, Kathleen.
The girl loves to have parties. What can I say?

I promised her I would come.
But then, after two days of a whole lot of activity and a sunburn and all my blah, blah, blah stuff, I begged out of coming.

And then the phone rings. It's the party calling. They want me to BE THERE. All the Sex Please folks and the Wheel of Murder folks and they're offering me bribes and rides and I don't know what all to just come to the party.

And I say, Oh no. I can't put on a bra. I am sunburned. I am exhausted. I say, The health department is going to shut down my left arm pit any second now. I say, I've never felt more loved. I say, Just say FUCK a few times and then say something ugly about religion. Every one will think I'm there.

And I wish I were there but I am equally glad I'm here too. The rain is starting to come down again and I've walked my yard and collected eggs and some tomatoes. I've fed the chickens some left-over cornbread. I've put some hydrangea in a vase and a few marigolds in another. My man is watching a baseball game on TV. I think I'll make some gourmet grilled cheese sandwiches out of local, handmade cheese that Billy got me at the New Leaf Market where he works that I have been wanting to try but which costs the big $$$, and those sweet, ripe tomatoes from the garden.

No. I'm right where I belong and just knowing that people are missing me across the county, that they would call and say WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? makes me feel like...well, like I'm one of the popular kids in high school. Seriously.

Wow. Fifty-five years old and I finally feel like one of the popular kids.

Okay. I can die now. Happy.

But I hope I don't. I really want to taste that cheese.