Mama said (and so did Momma)
Mama said there'd be days like this.
And, you know what? Mama didn't lie.
Oh, actually, today wasn't so bad. It's just that when I was about to start working on today's post at my computer, the power went out.
I live in a certain amount of fear about the power going out--that is, I would if I ever stopped to think about it, which I don't but should. Because the truth is I live in a community with an inordinate number of large trees, which seem to come down at the merest whisper of wind and storm, and always onto a power line. And today was truly windy and stormy, so it could easily have been predicted that those lights would flicker and then die.
The moment that happens is always an interesting one, wherein one confronts one's utter dependence on electricity, and the fact that one usually takes it way too much for granted. What, a power outage? To moi? Can't be; I've got work to do.
The moment of hubris passes, and then comes the taking of the inventory. Oh, right, the toilet will only have one flush in it--I forget why, but something to do with a pump. And in the winter, the cold starts seeping in within minutes, reminding me that lingering around the house would not be a good thing. The computer, the post? Fagettabout it. Time to leave and go about the other business of the day.
Ah yes, time to leave. Leave. And then I remember: that wonderfully convenient electric garage door opener has to be disabled. Now, how do I do that, again? Each time it happens, I have to learn anew--get out the manual and the flashlight (even though the day was young, it was so dark a flashlight was needed to read the diagrams).
Then, out to the garage. Piece of cake. Just pull that red lever dangling from a rope on the ceiling, and then lift the garage door manually, the old-fashioned way. But the red lever is just an inch out of my reach, even when I stand on tiptoe. I can unlock the door to the house, go back to the closet and get out the stepstool. But really, is it necessary? And by now I'm late. So I decide to jump and grab the lever at the top of my jump. I used to be quite the leaper, having been a ballet dancer/teacher not so very long ago (those of you who are new to my blog may be surprised at that little bit of history, but please see this).
Well, I guess it's been longer than I thought between leaps. Or maybe I'm not used to leaping on a concrete floor. Because somewhere between up and down (it didn't seem to be on the landing; it seemed to happen in the air) I got a sudden sharpish pain in the ankle that went down the foot.
Expletives undeleted, I hobbled around the garage, and found that I could at least walk, although with pain. So I set off.
The rest of the day I'll skip, except to say it involved, among other things: getting lost; an umbrella turning inside-out; and being knocked off the treadmill three times when the power at my workout place failed and then started, failed and then started, failed and then started.
So the post I was going to write turned into this one. I may write the other one and post it tonight, or I may wait till tomorrow.
And this may be as good a time as any to say to those who've been waiting for my next "change" post that it's about two-thirds written, and my prediction is that I'll be posting it some time early next week.
What did I learn today? A lesson I already knew: not only am I not in control of the big things, I'm not even in control of the little things. And in the great vastness of the universe, these are all indeed little things.
And I also learned, to my stupendous surprise (and after some heavy Googling), that in those song lyrics I linked to at the beginning of this piece, it's not "Momma said" and "Momma didn't lie," it's "Mama said" and "Mama didn't lie." After all these years, it's nice to know.