Friday, December 19, 2014


Several years ago, while some friends and I were at Wes's house at the lake, I had a profound thought.  We were there for a few days -- some long-time friends having a good time.

Marge thought the little boy-and-girl fishing statue was a little boy and girl fishing and she didn't see why they didn't move.  Jo asked her son David, who has a delightful bakery in Boulder, Colorado, to FED EX  some pastries  to us.  Donita sat in the rocking chair on the deck waiting for the FED EX truck, and I think it was JoAnn and I, standing at the deck railing looking out over the lake, when I suddenly decided that from then on I would only do one thing a day, even if that one thing turned out to be lunch. A kind of   'Zen'  AND  'Winnie The Pooh' statement  mixed up, don't you think? Very profound.

It's not yet a finalized pattern-of-life, though, just a goal.

So when I got up on Wednesday, I realized that there was no ambivalence,  because I was actually going to lunch!  We had plans to go to the UGA Christmas Buffet with Pat and Roger,  Kay and Bert, and Gay and Ted.   That's lunch for four still-alive couples who have long been friends.  What a great way to start the day, thinking of a lovely lunch and good friends.   Then I promptly took my Wednesday night medications, three of which are intended to facilitate sleep.

I am now, of course, within about a half hour from  sleep.  I have had to rise to some occasion or other in the evening when I was forced to stay awake after taking the medication, but never have I taken it in the morning.  I take vitamins in the morning!

Do you see what a dilemma I had?  As soon as I swallowed them I knew.  My first impulse was to undo what I had just done and try to unswallow them the hard way.   I decided against that unpleasantness and looked at my watch -- 9:05 a.m.  Okay, we don't have to leave until about noon.  That's three hours, I could take a nap, but the rest of my body would be asking,  "What the hell are you doing this time?"  And my hair would be a mess.   So, I decided to fight it.  Coffee, activity -- I honestly tried and tried and tried   -- and it was going really well for a while.

I got dressed (in what I have no idea) and we left to pick up Gay and Ted.  I think I told them my problem and I think they laughed, but I'm not sure.  The luncheon was a buffet in the new  (The name of the building goes here, but I don't remember what it was.)   We had to walk  from the parking deck, but a woman driving a golf cart gave us a ride, courtesy of our buying tickets to the buffet.  I was not polite, but pushed my way into the front seat.  I don't know if Ted and Gay fell off the back seats or not.   I was on my way to being about as obnoxious as I could, just trying to stay awake.

I think there were lovely decorations and carolers, but for some reason I just wanted to get to the food.  At the buffet, I proceeded to fill my plate with a little of everything there was to offer.  I noticed later that others had nice neat plates, you know, well-balanced plates, with room between their meat and potatoes.  Mine was a well-balanced pile.   A large slice of eggplant lasagna sat on top of beef on top of ham, on top of turkey, surrounded with all manner of vegetables, bits of casseroles, two rolls because I couldn't decide what shape I wanted.  

I remember all this through a haze.  The waiter led us to tables put together to seat eight.  We had to pass two empty round tables, and I'm surprised I didn't tell the waiter to seat us there because it's easier to talk and it was closer to the food.   Those two tables for eight stayed empty!

We arrived at the table set for us and poor Kay had to sit at my left. I'm trying to remember who was across from me or at my right and I can't.   All I remember of the lunch is the eating part.  Evidently that medicine makes me hungry, which of course wouldn't affect me when I'm sleeping soundly.  I believe my body was approaching that state now, but my head was just as determined to stay awake.  I'm sure some people thouught I was inebriated but I was more like Tarzan in the first movie, the one where he said "Me Tarzan, you Jane."   I'd be the savage shoveling in the food as though there would never be more.  I hope I didn't throw down the fork and use my fingers.

I guess we talked at the table, but I only remember looking at all of those nice plates of food others had, plates where you could tell what you were eating.  Then there was mine -- food on top of food, on top of more food.   I think I ate it all just to get it off my ugly mess of a plate, but I don't remember any conversation or any details except for the amount of food I consumed and my lack of response to anything else.  Even then  I knew I should be embarrassed at my behavior,  maybe even apologize, but I was still hungry and it seemed to be a better idea to go and get dessert.

The display of goodies was platter after platter of small round  pieces of varied taste.  By that time, I was watching what I was doing and I only took a couple more than others if you don't count the one I took when we were on our way out.

If I ever make the mistake of taking the wrong medication in the morning again, I will go immediately back to bed and allow myself only the most urgent of reasons to get out of bed, hunger being number one.

I'd like to end this post with a Christmas wish by quoting from two of Charles Dickens's most famous characters, who even now live among us with different names.

 ----- For a Christmas blessing, I use one of  Dickens's best lines from A Christmas Carol, found HERE

        God bless us every one."  says Tiny Tim.  The last one of all. 

------ or maybe more appropriately, staying with Dickens, from Oliver Twist.  In the second chapter, HERE

      . . . a young Oliver, living in the parish poor house, approaches the master with his bowl and spoon and says "Please, sir, I want some more."


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