Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Morning glory...or not

One of the great pleasures of country living is being able to enjoy the glory of a warm, summer morning in the quiet bliss of my backyard.

The other morning the air was perfect. It was a pleasant change from the sticky humid air we’ve been experiencing all summer, so I decided to take my coffee outside and stroll around my gardens. The cats were lounging lazily in sunny patches. The morning glories were just waking up. The world seemed so still.

But this stillness came to a crashing halt when suddenly I heard a truck pulling up my drive. You see, when I decided to take my stroll I was still half naked, wearing only my bathrobe. This bathrobe is not meant for the viewing public. It’s soft and cozy and my best friend when I’m sick, but it ain’t pretty.

When I realized it was our neighbor, and I could hear him getting out of his truck, my brain quickly searched for a solution. I remembered the door on the other side of the house was open. I could get there without him seeing me and get my husband to deal with him. Panicked, but pleased with my quick thinking, I started to run. Then I felt it. My knee just decided to quit on me. Time suddenly slowed to a crawl, and I could see my coffee floating in the air. I saw the path of rocks and metal table that I was about to slam into. Wham. I went down. I went down hard. It wasn't pretty.

Robe now wide open, time sped up but I couldn't move. My neighbor was on our porch, calling “hello?”—just two steps away from me, but still out of sight. My husband ran to the window to see if I was OK. But I couldn't talk because our guest would hear me and move in my direction. I pointed and whispered for him to go to the door. Luckily, he was on it lickety-split.

Shaken and bruised, I collected myself. I secured my robe, fixed my hair, and limped, with whatever dignity I could muster, into the house.

I now have a handsome bruise running down the whole right side of my body, and my beloved bathrobe is covered in coffee stains. I continue watching the glory of each morning unfold; I just make sure I’m wearing the proper attire.