Turtles Don't Laugh

When I was a kid, I would continue to shove food in my mouth, but somewhere along the way, I'd stop swallowing, so my cheeks would bulge out as they became more packed with whatever it was I was continuing to shovel in. I must have been four or five when I had both cheeks stuffed with scrambled eggs from breakfast. I excused myself and headed to the bathroom. Of course, most children would probably spit the food out first into the toilet, but not me. I plopped my butt down on the seat and proceeded to chew what was probably six eggs crammed into my stretched cheeks. Suddenly, I felt a sneeze brewing and out it came before I could take any proactive measures. In the instant following that gargantuan sneeze, I remember humbly sitting there on that cold seat, staring at bits of egg from floor to ceiling, from door to window and everywhere in between. And, I remember the look on my dad's face when he came walking into the bathroom. That look of pure shock ... well, that's about all I remember of that incident.

Speaking of looks of pure shock - the one on my Nana's face when my 6-year-old brother and I (I was about 8) ran home excitedly to tell her we had written our names in the fresh cement in front of one of the neighbor's homes was priceless. Well, four days later after no TV watching, being grounded AND having to empty our little piggy banks to help pay for a new chunk 'o sidewalk, the excitement had clearly faded. We swore we'd never write in fresh cement ever, ever again ... and tell anyone. And, I still don't know where all of our piggy bank money went because the supposedly new chunk 'o cement consisted of a shoddy touch-up job, where you could still faintly make out our names. Years passed. And, all the way up through high school, my brother and I would proudly drag our friends out there and show off the faintly-visible outline of our names, a huge trophy that greatly outshined the four miserable days and empty piggy banks we suffered. I wonder if it is still there ...

And, speaking of sidewalks - same sidewalk, different section - a tree root grew underneath this one portion, pushing the sidewalk up more each year. In the thousands of times my brother and I ran up and down that sidewalk over the years, we took quite a few tumbles as a result of that jutting-up section, but none so severe as on this one certain day.

My neighbor gave me a box turtle, and boy did I love turtles. I was about 7 at the time as I gleefully plopped him into my giant blue bucket and proceeded to skip/run home to show him to Nanny and Grandpop. Well, that darn root and sidewalk ... I tripped as I was hopping along at top speed. I flew one way, the bucket flew another, and that poor little box turtle flew ANOTHER! And there I was suddenly sprawled out like a turtle on it's back, no wait, that was the turtle. I glanced around from my belly-down position to see his little legs helplessly pawing at the sky, the bucket split in half and a deep gash squirting blood from the back of my wrist. Luckily the turtle wasn't injured physically. Emotionally, well, didn't much care for the sight of blue buckets after that ...

And, that gash on my wrist healed into a perfectly round scar that looked like a patch of ringworm. Every other year, my Nan, Grandpop or Dad would notice the scar out of nowhere, forgetting all the previous times before that they had noticed the same scar, and briefly panick that I had ringworm before someone would remember and say, "Oh, that's just a scar," and everyone would laugh - except for the poor turtle. He never laughed.

A Tasty Toe Sandwich

I was just reading about stress and that writing can be a good way to cope with stress. So, here I am ... and there you are. I was also reading that humor is a good coping mechanism so here it goes ...

How many of you know someone who was knocked unconscious in a wave pool at a water park? How many of you know me? Okay, then you know someone who was knocked unconscious in a wave pool at a water park. It was the summer of '98 or '99, one of those years, when an old boyfriend and I set sail on a giant rubber tube in the wave pool at Wild Waters in Reno. He sat upright on one side and I sat across from him, our gazes directed excitedly out to the wild blue yonder. We were making great strides during the "no waves" cycle. In his impatience with us traveling an inch per five minutes and spending what seemed like hours in only a foot of water, he jumped up suddenly to push us out to the deep end.

Unfortunately, for me, when he jumped up, the tube was thrown off balance and flipped over on top of me, throwing my legs into the air and my head bashing into the bottom of the pool. That was the last thing I remember before being lead, dazed and confused, from the pool by my boyfriend. People were pointing and staring. This had to happen, of course, on a day when I was sporting a new "look at me" hot pink bathing suit.

Speaking of wave pool injuries, fortunately I was on the delivering end of this next mishap. During a different trip to Wild Waters a few years back, I was gleefully riding the waves on a rubber tube during the "rough cycle" in the wave pool. I was coasting along on this giant ripcurl at sound barrier speed, my legs straight out in front of me and my butt planted firmly in the center of the tube.

Suddenly, a chunky, redheaded, freckled boy, around 12 years old, popped up in front of me from beneath the waves. He kind of resembled the kid from The Sandlot. Already knowing there was no time for him to move, I still managed to yell, "Look out!" the same time as he let out a startled scream, opening his mouth wide, just in time to meet my left foot, head-on. I just remember when my toes felt teeth, possibly even tonsils. I wasn't sure. Luckily, he was a resillient young chap, who was back out there playing with his friends a few hours later. And, lucky for me, I still had all 10 toes.

Once, when I was 10ish, I jumped into the shallow end of a pool, thinking it was the deep end. I guess it could have been worse - I could have dove. However, jumping in with straight legs, expecting to hit nothing but sheer water, and quickly meeting bottom with no bent knees or enough water to slow the impact, I stood there, frozen to the spot, feeling like my whole body had compacted into my ankles from the intense, sudden impact. I barely managed to limp out of the pool. At least I was 10 and not 30.

At least, no one is usually looking when I push on doors that say "Pull."

At least my dogs don't mind when I eat too much garlic.

At least, when I thought air conditioner was one giant word spelled "aeranconditioner," I was in the fourth grade.

And, thank the All Mighty One that I am too old to do embarrassing things anymore ...

... except for yesterday when I was waiting for the beep to leave a phone message and realized a real person was on the other end.

Where Have You Been All of My Life?!

Lately, my world has opened tenfold. In the past month, I have forced myself out of my comfortable, peaceful solitude to reach out to others in our community who are trying to make positive changes. And, to my surprise, what do I discover? Why, a whole bunch of silly, caring, sensitive, compassionate, creative, strange, outdoorsy, comical and conscientious people hell-bent on saving the world. For once, no eye-rolling, just warm embraces and amazingly wonderful energy and sheer encouragement.

It was like I was travling alone in the dark and suddenly, these doors opened and I was surrounded by others like me, like the ugly duckling when she joined other swans. I have never had a feeling of belonging. I was never a jock, never a cheerleader, never popular, never a computer geek - never anything that there was ever a group or a name for. I've worn different masks and suffered through social anxiety only to run back to the lovely peace of being with my animals and outside in nature, feeling free and alive. I have never felt alive in a group of people. And, feeling suddenly alive like this is better than any drug. I feel like a giddy school girl, suddenly discovering the right group of friends. I feel the energy and vibes from amazing people and I feel like maybe there is hope in this dark world afterall ...

Okay, I need to tell a funny story. When I was 13, my mom took my brother and I to Hawaii. At our hotel, we all went down to the pool for a soothing dip. Looking across the cool, blue waters, I saw something flat and round thrashing about, trying to save itself from drowning. I grabbed one of my flipflops and jumped in. While doggy paddling (still my best swimming technique), I could hear my mom hollering behind me, "Heather, what are you doing?" A few moments later (okay, more than a few) I doggy paddled back with one hand while pushing my flipflop along the surface with the other. On my flipflop sat this red bug the size of a computer mouse calmly resting. "That's a giant cockroach!" yelled my mom. I took him over to a nearby bush and let him go. He was a cute little guy. After that, I realized it wasn't only cockroaches that have a bad rap but many other creatures as well - bats, skunks, pigeons, snakes - little misunderstood beings to which I could relate.