FollmannFamilyPicnic's moblog

by FollmannFamilyPicnic

user profile | dashboard | contact user

« older newer »

"I tried once to open too many doors at a time, it was unproductive and confusing.
I just learned the last lesson, Dad. I'm supposed to open just one at a time, and only when I reach them along the path, this 'hike' we are taking. That's when the key fits, and opens the lock perfectly, every time. Thank you, Dad. I love you, and miss you. I am blessed with an amazing husband now, he holds my hand as we walk along paths too. We are climbing a little steeper now, with more effort, and thinner air. But I'm not worried. I am looking up. I am living in the moment, being now. Because when we get to the next door, along our path, I know, Dad, . . . that key is going to fit, perfectly!"

excerpt from Pony, 6/6/2013 post
© ruth follmann

Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs License


Recent visitors

library feet

(viewed 477 times)
Bookmark and Share
The beautiful picture you are seeing is the front lawn beneath the Edison State Library. The second floor is held up with what looks like supporting stilts. The glass walls extend from the bottom of the first floor to the ceiling of the second. The first floor inside houses nothing but a few anatomical reproductions and a computer lab. It is a silent gorgeous entity of thought and non stop typing movement. I was part of that current today for over 8 hours. The ability to reach meditative learning levels of understanding without interruption can not be overstated. The chairs are ergonomically designed, the lighting is perfect, you can have snacks and an enclosed drink. The one thing I did not foresee, was my feet.

When you first enter the library and scope out a spot, you do so slowly so as to watch if chatty pairs are sitting together or someone is tapping a pencil to an ear bud music beat. I found the perfect spot. The people around me were studious, quiet, breathed through their nose, (mouth breathers are hard to study next to!), so i set down all my old lady stuff and 'moved in'.

The length of my work gave me the advantage of a Galapagos tortoise. Time seemed to move around me quickly as students arrived, finished work and left. We all briefly looked up in curiosity at an amazing rainstorm experienced inside walls of glass. I was still typing. One young gent was just as focused as I. He kept his phone put away and worked, as is also my habit. The smart thing he did that I did not do that day was wear tennis shoes. At some point in the crunch of a research thesis, my body dumped the toxins of stress out of some secret scent glands, not known to exist until today in the library. This phenomenon occurs despite my am bath, deodorant, and body spray treatment. Maybe some floor vent kicked in at the same time the soles of my feet had a Chernobyl effect with my foam resin Croslite flip flop tops. My stoic library work mate noticed it about the same time I did too. He tried to nonchalantly push back his chair and clear his throat. I had already tucked my mustard gas limbs underneath me as best I could. It helped but not enough. I felt if I were to get up, it would just be fanned around more. I was also at a critical junction of the essay, and needed to keep my thoughts going. Apparently, my unofficial study buddy needed to keep going to. We absorbed into the student life experience, maybe the vent shut down, or I stopped perspiring entirely from my feet, and we finished our work. I give that kid some long suffering credit. I finished the paper, walked to the bathroom, and paper towel washed the stress from my feet. I had to meet with two tutors. They are not as forgiving. That young man will make a good husband someday. Not as sweet as mine who knows I like to sleep with the closet doors closed shut tight. Yes, even at 50 there are scary things. But they are not hidden in between the hangers of shirts and pants. They are the stutters, hiccups or stinky feet times when we are less Cosmopolitan and more Rin Tin Tin.

But isn't that why we try to forgive, heck, maybe forget~ the bodily misgivings of those around us, especially in the south. I hope so, since few have survived: library feet.
4th Oct 2013, 03:34   | tags:,,

Advert

JD NLI says:

An essay in itself : )

4th Oct 2013, 20:54

Right?!? I guess my fingers just wanted to keep typing! :D Thanx for the read and comment!

5th Oct 2013, 01:12

Add a comment


(P) what's this?

Track updates to this post with rssthis rss feed