Sunday, April 23, 2006

Party Animals

Dear Readers,

Yesterday I was invited to a dinner / party. I am not your average party animal, so it took some negotiation on the part of the host – but I agreed to go. Honestly, I would rather be poking around in the garden than rubbing elbows with the Rez elite. But, friends should be friends – so I picked a nice summer skirt and blouse and even shaved my legs. Dang, ya know, I don’t ever have to put on a skirt or shave to dig in the garden.

My host was The Host, and he was busy getting everything ready, so the deal was, I was to find my own way there. Then he would bring me home when I got uncomfortable. (Lets see, can anyone guess how long that took?) I figured I could walk, it was only about 2 miles and a nice day. But since the accident I don’t have the kind of stamina I used to. I got my nephew to give me a ride. I was really grateful for that after just a bit.

The invitation was expressed as “beginning at 4 PM.” I arrived sometime after 5:00 PM. And in true Indian Time – things weren’t really even getting started. I looked around inside and outside and my host was no where to be seen. I settled in against a retaining wall with the only person present I knew well enough to hang out with. Trouble was she was also hanging out with someone who extremely dislikes me.

Now, I don’t expect everyone to like me, even though I am totally lovable. I am really a hermit by nature, so if folks don’t like me – it is really a convenience for me. Less parties and more gardening. That suits me just fine. Anyway, this particular lady suspects or maybe believes that I did something naked and germy with her Pillsbury Doughboy husband. I am going to tell you right now, that never happened. Never ever and never will. Even if she throws his assets out. He does not appeal to me, he is not my type, and he drinks. Besides I haven’t done anything germy with anyone for longer than I can remember. Disgusting thought. Enough said.

So there I am leaning against the wall next to my friend. And on the other side of her is the Pillsbury doughboy’s wife. And I over hear my friend say something about my host. I ask to make sure that is who is being discussed, and then tell her that he asked me to come, but he isn’t here. “Oh,” she says, “He went home to take a shower. He should be right back.” So I stand there a while longer. Then Mrs. Pillsbury Doughboy decides she is going to go sit at the picnic table, and my friend is going to go too, and invites me to come along. Well, I am quite sure Mrs. PDB wants to be as far away from me as possible, and that suits me fine. Less friends, less parties, more gardening. So I tell my friend that I think I will go for a walk down by the river. And I do.

Once I started walking, I just kept right on walking. I was thinking, damn, if he could leave to take a shower, he could of left to pick me up. I will be gawd damned if I am going to hang around a public place waiting for a man. Especially since I would rather be gardening anyway.

Then my cell phone rang . . . It was my nephew – wanting to know if folks were eating yet. I told him I didn’t know, I was walking home. After arguing with me a minute, he offered to pick me up. But I was all ready half way home and told him I was fine. (My toes still hurt today . . .)

I had to lay down twice to rest my back. But what could be better? (Oh yea, gardening!) The air was a nice warm spring temp with a cool breeze. All kinds of flowers are blooming, the birds were singing and there were big fluffy clouds. I think laying in the wild grass on a day like that is very therapeutic. Unless you catch a tick. But I didn’t. You always got to worry about them dang ticks.

On my second little rest the most amazing thing happened. This little bird came pretty close to me in the bushes just twittering his head off and looking down at me. Then he flew to a closer branch and kept it up. After a while I started thinking that maybe this bird knew me, and was worried. He definitely seemed like it. So I started twittering back. Next, he actually flew down and landed on my leg. I was so startled and amazed. I just held my breath and looked at him real good. I got no idea what kind of a bird he is. (And my bird books are still boxed up from when they remodeled last summer. I am still looking for an IHSS worker . . .) Then he flew over on the fence and he still chittered a bit, but not so furious as before. He seemed calmer. I was wondering if he might have been one of the birds that have dinner in my yard. It was the most curious thing.

A bit later I ran into one of my neighbors out for a stroll, and he told me my nephew was cruising the back road. He said that my nephew was probably looking for me. Good guy! (Except when he is being bad – but that is another story.) On my way home I saw some drying up puddles with pollywogs and made a mental note to come back and get some.

Today I made a little pond from the top of a 2.5 gallon plastic rectangle water container. I sunk it in-between some willow saplings and celery plants, filled it up with pond water, and went and collected my pollywogs. On the way back to the puddles I stopped and visited my friend who gardens and raises goats, we had a nice little visit. It was amazing, but some of those puddles had completely dried. But I did find one with a couple of wet spots and some very stressed pollywogs. Those little guys have a new home. And that is party enough for me. I hope they like slugs for dinner when they grow up! Oh, and I fed the birds, and one of them looked alike like Mr. Worry Wort.

Well, my dear Readers, I really don’t mean to neglect you. I have had something totally stressful going on – and I will probably be filling a formal complaint. I am told that eventually I will find it humorous. When I do I will certainly tell you all about it.

Until then I am going to cherish the little birds and the pollywogs that will be toads or frogs . . . And of course there is my wonderful rodent eating Buddy cat, snoozing on my lap, right now . . . They are all the party animals I need.

Whirled peas,

Harvest

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

So do you still have to kiss a few frogs to get a prince? Great story sis!We are so lucky to have such great nephews.

Love ya, Swinsista Robin

Anonymous said...

So sis...do you have to sill kiss a lot of frogs to get a Prince? Good thing we both have nice & helpful nephews! Sounds like you had a better experience than getting icey looks from Mrs DB...

Love ya, great story! Swinsista Robin

Harvest said...

LOL, Hey Robin!

I am not going to kiss any of these little froggies . . . I think they would eat a whole lot less slugs as princes than they will as frogs. Yes, what on earth would we do without our Nephews?

Hugs

Harvest