Sunday Snafu

So.  Yesterday I went to a bridal shower for a young friend at a country mansion  – a big, huge house up off a Kent County road north of Harrington.  When it came right down it,  I didn’t much feel like going.  It was at 4:00 Sunday afternoon, and that’s a good time for me to grab a nap on any given Sunday.  But this guest of honor was the babysitter for the Thursday Morning Bible Study group that meets at our house for (literally!) years, and she was good.  Plus, I happen to love her. We are a part of her support group (she’s on staff with YWAM in England), and she met this Aussie and they are getting married next month.  (I like him, too!)

I didn’t realize where this bridal shower was going to be held, or I may have opted to stay home.  I have admired this place often from afar, but never dreamed that I would ever be on the inside of it.  As I said, it’s HUGE.  And very NICE. By the time I realized where it was, I was almost there, so I decided to not turn back.  I parked in the front roundabout drive, gathered my courage about me, and made my way to the door.  I was welcomed warmly. There were a whole bunch of pretty young “twenty-ish” females, giggly younger girls, and Mamas and Aunties, and I hardly knew ANYONE except the guest of honor and members her family.

The kitchen was directly off the large foyer, and the food was arrayed in splendor! Dainty chicken salad sandwiches, meatballs, cucumber and cream cheese pinwheels, veggie trays and dips and on and on and on! It was an impressive array of fancy foods, but I had just come from one of those “5th Sunday Mennonite Potluck Dinners” at our church and I was not the least bit hungry.  I picked up some things (skipping over the desserts, though, for real!!!) got a glass of basil infused lemonade, and headed out to where the seating had been arranged.

The day was sunshiny and clear, and the organizers wanted us to eat outside, where chairs and a few tables had been set up.  The sun was quite hot and the only shade was from a large deck umbrella, but I found a spot under it that was at least partially in the shade for part of the time.  There were pleasant looking women around, and I picked up some conversations which I enjoyed very much. I even had a discussion with a two women about falls and the elderly and how a single fall can change our lives forever and many pertinent observations were made, arising from the experiences with parents and grandparents – not just by me, but by the two gals I was talking to, as well.

There were quite a few people at the shower, and it took time for everyone to get their plates finished.  The party was about an hour old and not a single gift had been open. I began to think about going home.  But then they handed out a party game printed on a pink sheet of paper.  Maybe this would be a diversion.  I took a look at it, and it was a whole bunch of questions about our personal cell phones!  For pity sakes!!! At a Bridal Shower???  I thought maybe it would be about the bride and groom, but then I thought that I would probably know more about my personal cell phone than I did about the bride and groom (especially given some of the recent questions raised on quizzes at bridal showers) so I decided to see if I could answer at least some of the questions.

However, I’ve developed an increasing distaste for people on their cell phones at social events, and I had left mine in my purse, out in the kitchen of this mammoth house. So I went to retrieve it.  It was right where I left it, so I took my purse and headed back out to the sunshine.  I was doing all okay, just meandering along, thinking about some of the questions when disaster befell!  Just past the kitchen, I caught my toe on a very slightly raised ridge between the dining room and the step down into the sun room and suddenly felt myself hurtling into space at an amazing rate of speed.

I crash landed with absolutely no grace or glory onto some kind of expensive scratchy rug and felt my right elbow dig hard into it. Ouch!  That kind of smarted!  Of course there were all sorts of exclamations and people leaping to help me up and asking if I was hurt and all sorts of unsolicited solicitous remarks.  I was pretty sure I wasn’t too damaged, and hiked myself up (mostly unassisted) brushed myself off, insisted that I was fine, and escaped back out to my chair where I tried to finish the pink-sheeted game without any more attention.

Scarcely had I settled myself back into my chair when I got this picture from my daughter in law, Regina-

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“Frankie wanted you to see his banged up face and missing tooth.”
“The nose and tooth are from a bad bike wreck and the eye is from a hard game of baseball.”

I looked at that poor little battered face, and it made me very happy that I hadn’t fallen on my face, or knocked out a tooth. (I’ve fallen hard on my face, and needed stitches some years ago, and let me tell you, that’s no fun!)  But about then, I rubbed my elbow that was smarting and my hand came up sticky and damp red.  I tried to quietly dab it off, but it was really smarting.  I suddenly felt tired and sad and old.  I decided that I was going to just go home.  I spoke quiet words to the bride and snuck out.  The less people who knew anything, the happier I would be.

So I told Regina all about it and got all sorts of sympathy from Frankie- so much so that I felt better. But then I took a picture of it (because I couldn’t see it) and I guess it was no wonder it hurt!

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I shouldn’t have looked at it. I think I felt better before I saw it. But at least it wasn’t on my face. I made it home and told my offspringin’s and my siblings my tale of woe, complete with pictures.  Today I have some sore muscles, but I’m not in terrible shape.  However, I’ve discovered why My Sweet Mama didn’t like to tell anybody about her falls — especially her offspring.  It seems like well-intentioned people in general and adult children in particular have perfectly logical and sincere answers about everything.  And they don’t like to listen to reason. Most of my dilemmas come from not paying attention.  But even the best payer of attention sometimes gets hung up.  It’s just the way it is.

Besides,  I’m not quite ready for a “full time supervisor.” Not yet, anyhow.

Do I give Grateful praise tonight?  Of course, on many counts.  But why don’t you go think of some of your own reasons to give grateful praise, and I will keep all these things and ponder them in my heart.

2 Comments

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2 responses to “Sunday Snafu

  1. jeanstauffer

    Oh dear!! I’m so sorry! I am reminded of the time I feel off a stool about ten years ago and on the way down I smacked the under side of my arm on something. It was an open wound and all shades of color for the next couple of weeks. I too was thankful for no broken arms or legs or heads.

  2. Vicky

    I feel the same way about the attention after the fall. All you want to do is clean up, and go somewhere to be quiet. It feels like you did something wrong for some reason and you hate drawing attention to yourself for being a klutz. Even when it was just an accident you had no part in!! Being thankful for no broken bones is okay, but the muscle aches more than make up for it I think.

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