Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Write Your Own

In the past couple of weeks, I've lead two discussion groups at my local library regarding my memoir writing and publishing experiences. Not quite two dozen people attended. Enthusiasm was high, and we've agreed to meet again in two or three months to discuss everyone's progress.

I've also approached the librarian about holding two sessions on the topic of obituary writing. It seems to me that the person most capable of writing an obituary is the deceased. Who is more familiar with your life than you? And besides, it would liven up the obituary page.

Tuesday, August 9, 2016

Road Rage

There was a stalled car on a major road this afternoon about four, and traffic was moving at a crawl. I turned into it in the appropriate lane and seeing that the next lane had a wide opening, I turned on my blinker and began moving into it.

A light gray KIA was back at least a car's length in that lane and creeping along but sped up to block my entrance. I already had my bumper out and was crossways between lanes and continued to change lanes. The young male driver sat on his horn for several seconds. I ignored it and moved on over to the outside lane.

A couple of blocks on up the road the same car sped up to get in front of me and then slowed to a crawl as the driver put his arm as far out the window and up in the air as he could to display the traditional middle finger rude gesture. I continued to ignore him.

He was still in front of me when the light turned red. The young woman riding with him, got out of the car and came back to me. My door was locked and the windows up. When I refused to look at her, she almost climbed on the hood to get in my face and shout at me. When that got no response, she hit my side window hard with the flat of her hand and returned to her car.

I turned into the parking lot at that light and was hugely relieved they didn't follow me. While it is true that I'm accustomed to driving in large cosmopolitan areas and have learned to change lanes in crowded situations, I did not cut the other driver off. There was plenty of room. He sped up to prevent my entry into his lane.

The youngsters in the gray KIA were young. There didn't seem to be any air conditioning in the car. The girl was missing a front tooth. Life must be really hard for them. I can't imagine how awful it must be to have so much suppressed anger and frustration that such a minor incidence can cause such a major reaction. It was scarey and terribly sad.

Wednesday, August 3, 2016

No Rock

Yesterday afternoon, we returned home from our usual Tuesday schedule, bridge game for my husband and short story discussion and lunch for me, to find one side of our glass front storm door hanging from the frame in shards.

Our lawn service had been cutting the grass as we left earlier in the day and were our first suspects. It wouldn't be an unusual chain of events for the mower to hit a rock causing it to fly up and hit the door.

A closer examination of the damage did not produce a stone anywhere within striking distance, but the morning sun does blaze down on it with full force every day.

Including the heat index, the temperature here yesterday was 105 degrees. The wooden front doors are recessed about three feet into the house with the storm doors attached to the opening into the recess leaving a good space of about three feet between the two for either an umbrella stand or potted plant depending upon the weather.

A week or so ago, I had to remove a pot of succulents from the space. They were burning up.

We think the air between the two sets of doors got so hot the glass door exploded. Once the door is repaired, I'll have to leave it ajar to prevent another build-up of hot air. There's never a dull moment in our house.