The One About the Not Old Lady and the Sharks
Staying out of trouble, not always easy for sure, mayhem on one shoulder, saint on the other. Maybe "saint" is a bit pretentious, I'm not dead yet. How about angel, yeah that's me.
Sitting in for a friend in her "Old Lady Euchre" club. That is not the official name, none of us are eighty-five yet, which is my self-proclaimed turning point from middle age to nursing homeish. One of the ladies duped her young daughter into playing that evening with the allure of pocketing some easy money whacking the old folks. She and I both lost. Sharks.
Off the RV road for now, visiting my hometown to share Tales from the Hood with my original partners in crime, meeting sibs for lunch in Dubuque. Chauffering my sister Jolene from Moline, that's the first thing absolute strangers learn from my sister and understandably question why do I care where you live and more appropriately if she is a bit crackers. In a group of new folks, though, she is always the one they remember. She is popular, weirdness is trendy.
Chatting, carping, laughing, snorting, me and "The Moline" queen missed the turn and ended up in Wisconsin. It shouldn't have been a deal buster but I knew the consequences. Naturally, the first thing my so-called "navigator" told the crew was about the temporary lapse into another state. My defense, our mutual inherited lack of directional awareness. Another family curse.
I am the youngest and most of my siblings can't understand how I've managed to survive all these years. Living on borrowed cat lives, I'm a stubborn cookie, a true shipwreck with less sense and more luck than most, yet they understand Jesus Saves and so the reason I'm still breathing.
Time is double-edged, both advantage and disadvantage, now there is finally time to reconnect with family, old friends and meet new very lovely ladies, then reality strikes. I've got to skydive, run a marathon, swim with jellyfish, read the Harry Potter trilogy, learn to hula hoop and win at Euchre tomorrow, jamming every new adventure in before the sparks fade. Our clocks tick faster as the candle flickers, gotta keep that fire burning…
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