25 Year Dry Spell Ends
Soccer fans rejoiced to see local phenom recruited by tier 3 indoor team. After the offer was accepted, team was promoted to tier 2. Yippee. Unfortunately, first shift out saw our star horribly wounded on the calf of her left leg. Bruise quickly grew to the size of a grapefruit and colour of a science experiment gone awry. And yes, she was wearing the proper equipment (shin pads and head band), she just stuck her leg out when she should have run away and cowered. Nicest compliment received: ”It didn’t look like your first game.”
Following Friday, bruise was rekicked in the opening minutes of the game. Coach/trainer/husband of one of the players went running for ice (aka frozen wet sponge in a baggy). Player continued on, and made even more marvelous the colour and contours of her dramatic injury.
The girl will continue to play. It made her sweat and her heart beat faster! Felt kinda good after 25 years away from the game…
Back in the Saddle
I am considering starting a blog that doesn’t have my name on it. Except I’d tell my friend, Ginny, as she is the only one who I think really reads this. Except that she’s not reading my blog lately because I stopped writing in it. I predicted to myself this would happen, but I didn’t guess why my well would dry up.
I am a Luddite. Yes, surprisingly it’s true. And I was not aware how uncomfortable I’d be, putting my ‘stuff’ out there where folks could see and potentially track it back to me. I teach school and hadn’t quite realized how much I had shut my ‘self’ off. Even though I have been known to say to a class, “You do realize I am not really as nice as they pay me to be at school?”, I was in denial how much is now kept hidden.
Things I would write about on my secret blog:
1. Being designated as celibate by my gynecologist.
2. My mother trying to set me up with her school friend’s son.
3. Poems with sex in them.
4. Attempted Divorce issues.
5. Feelings about having to move back in with my parents.
6. Behaving poorly at local Rodeo caberets.
7. Ginny? Anything I’ve missed? How about ‘When we were young’ installments?
An enjoyment of authenticity in others’ writing has highlighted the lack of it in my own. It’s not bad, but the information being held back needs to be out there, somewhere. Or does it? Maybe I really am as nice as they pay me to be to my class. But if memory serves, I doubt it…
