(cartoon copyright Nance Thacker '90)
Click on image to enlarge.
Wow, I’m being inundated by synchronicities!!!
Caught 4 over the last 2 days
NUMBER 1:
I’m thinking about whether to post this cartoon that I did a numbed of years ago.
Nah.
But then I realized that there was is a story about the inspiration for the cartoon. I could write about that?
Nah, I thought.
But then doesn’t a similar event happen to me – so you're getting it.
Here’s the background story.
About 19 years ago my friend Pat, who was 76 years old at the time, told me, over a glass of sherry, that she’d laid down on the floor in her sun room the other day to relax.
“It feels so good to lie down on the carpet and soak in the sun” she explained.
After some time had passed there was a loud, authoritative banging on her front door. “Who could that be at this time of day? I wondered as I wasn’t expecting any visitors.”
It took her some time to get up off the floor and make her way to the door – the pounding continuing all the while.
“And there’s a young policeman in full uniform standing there and a cruiser in front of my house. Is there anything wrong officer? I ask.”
“Ummm, well no apparently not,” he says somewhat sheepishly, looking about for a rock to crawl under. “I…ah…there was a call…someone...ah…was walking past your house and saw you on the floor, not moving and she, ah made a call. And, he looked at me to fill in the details.”
“Ahh and she thought…” they both nodded as she talked and then said simultaneously.
“I was (you were) dead.”
They stood in uncomfortable silence.
“…Yes, maam she did.”
And, the present day synchronicity:
As you know, Rod and I are renovating the basement. I spent the hottest 2. No, let me correct that. I spent the sunniest, hottest, most stinkin’ly humid 2 summer days of this summer cutting, fitting and installing insulation into the ceiling wearing protective gear that just about made me faint from the heat exhaustion and moisture loss (made me sweat like a pig).
Hiking boots served as construction boots. Socks, torn up blue jeans, T-shirt and sweatshirt were co-ordinated with the ever so sheik:
- Face mask – to keep from inhaling chunks of debris. It makes me inhale my own breath (that’s just so not right and icky) and leaves deep crevices in my cheeks for days; so bad that my friend Sue at Windsor Medical would have vehemently denied that I was one of her photo facial clients. I was thinking of going in and saying hi and seeing if she’d notice anything, but thought that would be cruel.
- Goggles - that fog up from said foul breath leaking out of the face mask, making me virtually blind, when they’re not falling off my nose due to sweat streaming down my face.
- Ear protectors - because last time I worked construction I had tinnitus for 2 months, which was crazy making.
- Bandanna - to keep the volcanic dust from the bits of insulation that fall on my hair down to a minimum.
- Gloves - so that my next Shiatsu clients don’t feel like they’re getting a micro peel.
I totally understand why people don’t wear protective gear. You’re sweaty hot, can’t see, hear, or feel anything. And you’re clumsy to boot; at least I was.
The point is that we did such a fantastic job with the insulation and the ceiling that the place is really, really soundproof. Yesterday as I was waiting for my regular lomi client I lost track of the time writing up treatment reports. It finally dawned on me that time was ticking away and when I checked my watch it was 10 minutes after the hour. My client was 10 minutes late; totally unlike him.
I went upstairs and looked out the door just in time to see him anxiously coming round the hedge.
“Are you alright?” he asked with a worried look on his face as he rushed to the door.
“Uh, huh,” Alright but feeling confused by his concern.
“I’ve been here 10 minutes. I rang 4 times. I got worried about you. The wood door was open and I got no response so I walked around the back to see if maybe something had happened to you. You’re not getting any younger you know.”
Whoa!
YOU’RE NOT GETTING ANY YOUNGER!
Ow, and this coming from a 75 year old!
The implications in that statement just freak me out and stop me in my tracks because immediately Pat’s story flashes into my mind, but it was me he was concerned about! Me!
Sure, sure we’re all getting older, everyone gets older; everyone but me that is.
NUMBER 2, 3 and 4 to come…
Meanwhile to check out more recent synchronicities click here, here and here.
And for the full gamut click on synchronicities in “Labels” to the right
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