QOTD for Wednesday, 12/22/22 -- Ladies of Lallybroch Social Board

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Date Posted: Tue, December 21 2021, 22:33:09
Author: Betsy BFS
Subject: QOTD for Wednesday, 12/22/22

I hate shopping. Absolutely hate it. I try to avoid going into stores at all, unless I know they're still requiring masks. In no way is that a statement of any kind about masking. My choice. David's, too. Anyway, yesterday I had an appointment and took the (short) time to retrieve a pair of earrings I had managed to leave behind when I had work done on my neck yesterday. Then I made a mad dash into our small local grocery store to check the pricing on a couple of things. Bacon was on sale (we don't eat bacon much, but it WAS on sale.....) and a steak (don't eat that much red meat at all, but it was reduced a whole lot, so....) I grabbed that, too.

Then home I went. aAcouple of hours later, one of our girls called David about something Christmasy and he told her to call Mom. She does the Yule/Christmas thing. She had already tried my phone several times and got no response. Our daughter and Davis figured I couldn't find my phone, or it was silenced, or both. Not for the first time. It's an almost daily occurrence.

So I set out trying to find where I had put my phone down. The living room, the bathroom, our bedroom, the kitchen. My phone was hiding somewhere else. I checked the car, twice. Nope. At this point my Sherlock got involved. He looked all the same places, three times, decided I had dropped it in the snow in the driveway and it had been run over at least twice. His blood pressure looks fairly elevated. I'm usually pretty easy-going when I can't find something. I know the harder I look, the worse it gets. If I just let it go, it turns up, usually in a very easy place to see. But not my Sherlock. He searches, day and night, until he's either found what's hiding, or he falls over, twitching, on the floor. He also, as he looks determinedly, takes over like Mrs. Barnett, my sixth grade English teacher who would rap her fingernails on the top of your head if you didn't parse your sentences correctly. She terrified me, but I learned correct grammar before I went into the next grade. She sort of looked like Margaret Hamilton in The Wizard of Oz. Talked like her, too. She had the unique ability to make any and every body feel like they were in kindergarten and shrunk us into balls of fear, wrapped into defensive balls so she didn't notice us. Welllll, Sherlock is sort of like that. Except I am now an adult and don't take well to a Mrs.Barnett wanna-be.

For the tenth time, I retraced every move I had made since I had left the house. The last time I can remember having it was walking into the house from the car, listening to an obnoxious message. Came inside, took off my coat, et al, deposited my purse and put away the two packages I had bought. Yes, I had checked the refrigerator. Yes, I went upstairs and unpacked all 32 boxes of packing material to see if I had dropped my phone inadvertently into one of them as I carried them up the stairs. Yes, I looked into every potted plant (we have a ton of those, too) and in, under, and inside of all the furniture. I had done it three times, Sherlock had done it three times, and no, the phone wasn't there. So he asked me to go out to the garage and physically trace every step I had made, with him regally following me, right behind me, close enough that I COULD have smashed my head back and broken his nose, which I did not do. Karma, you know? We walked like that from the garage, across the driveway, and into the house, taking my coat off and putting my hat and mittens down the arm of said coat, hung it up, and kept going, step by step, with this man attached like a lamprey to my back. I gave up, announced I didn't care if I got the darn thing back, I hated it anyway, and went to the bathroom to play loud music and read a book. When I had calmed down and crawled out of the bathroom, there he was. Standing there. Sherlock/Margaret Hamilton/Mrs. Barnett. All looking at me with that LOOK. And with my phone. Cocking my head, trying to look nonchalant, I asked "Where?" Between the bacon and the steak in the refrigerator.

He was gracious enough not to gloat and I was quite good at ignoring the whole three-hour tromp into every one-inch space of our home. I have also sworn off meat for the rest of my life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following quote is from 'Dragonfly In Amber,' by Diana Gabaldon. copyright©1992, by Diana Gabaldon. All rights reserved.

I woke three times in the predawn. First in sorrow, then in joy, and at the last, in solitude. The tears of a bone-deep loss woke me slowly, bathing my face like the comforting touch of a damp cloth in soothing hands. I turned my face to the wet pillow and sailed a salty river into the caverns of greif remembered, into the subterranean depths of sleep.

I came awake then in fierce joy, body arched bowlike in the throes of physical joining, the touch of him fresh on my skin, dying along the paths of my nerves as the ripples of consummation spread from my center. I repelled consciousness, turning again, seeking the sharp, warm smell of a man's satisfied desire, in the reassuring arms of my lover, sleep.

The third time I woke alone, beyond the touch of love or grief. The sight of the stones was fresh in my mind. A small circle, standing stones on the crest of a steep green hill. Craig na Dun; the fairies' hill. Some say the hill is enchanted, others say it's cursed. Both are right. But no one knows the functions or the purpose of the stones.

Except me.

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Replies:

[> I use my phone a lot. I have my recorded fiddle lessons and the music I use for teaching Scottish Country Dance. I make a list to go with my lesson plan and use a Bluetooth speaker for class. Last night at class I couldn't find my phone. Thought for certain I had it with me but couldn't find it. Dragged out the back up CD player and disks, we enjoyed class anyway. While I was clearing up after class my phone was sitting on top of the trunk where we keep the cd player. Faeries. --

kgp, Wed, December 22 2021, 6:25:40

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[> Betsy, you write THE BEST descriptions (OK, second to DG Herself) of everyday life! Thanks for the laughs (stuck like a lamprey to my back!!) and the QOTDs. -- DianaH, Wed, December 22 2021, 10:13:16

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[> Betsy, you are hilarious. Such great stories you tell. Hahahahahahahaha. --

Judie, Wed, December 22 2021, 12:15:25

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[> It’s so good to laugh with you! And relate- OMG 😂. About the QOTD, this one always makes me cry. I didn’t realize until I read the first page and Claire was back for 20 years just what it was all about. I had just left them happy in the monk’s grotto. -- Kathy in PA, Wed, December 22 2021, 14:50:23

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[> [> I had to read it a few times, and then go back after I finished Dragonfly before I understood the quote. Even before I had really taken it in, it made me feel waves of sorrow. I think I cried. It's a powerful prolgue. I'm glad you all indulge my writing. It puts things into perspective for me; it reminds me that if I don't laugh at Life, I'll be blue-papered and dragged away, screaming, "I'm not crazy! Life is crazy!! If you don't see that, you're the one who should be sedated!" I've seen many blue-paper scenes and it's never pretty. I'm not sure the police who would be carrying me away would be of like mind with me about laughing at life. This is therapy for me. -- Betsy BFS, Wed, December 22 2021, 21:01:46

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