YES, I AM STILL HERE looking out the window on Main Street, and wondering whatever happened to that big purple and black and purple and black spider that appeared on the hood of my buggy.
First, let me say in all honesty that I hate and fear all spiders.
Second, let me say that life is so unfair — last week a snake in the bedroom.
And THERE, on the hood of my buggy, just a few feet in front of the driver’s side window, was a huge metal-eating, incredibly poisionous and irate S-P-I-D-E-R. At least it was outside.
I was driving back to work after doing one of my typical good deeds for a sweet little ole lady when I noticed the spider on the hood. It was about the size of the left hand of Andre the Giant. Its eyes were gleaming red. It was drooling radioactive poison which had already eaten a hole in the hood.
My first thought was that it was time to get rid of that truck and buy one that has been dipped in a vat of spider repellant.
My second thought was — WHOA — that spider is crawling toward my windshield and my life may be in peril.
Maybe I can blow it off the buggy, I thought, and I speeded up to 80 mph in front of the pre-school kindergarten.
Not only did it NOT blow the spider off the hood, it actually made it approach me faster. I slammed on the brakes, and the cop car which happened to be in pursuit just barely skidded into me.
Even though I had been praying for dry days, I found myself hoping for rain. Maybe a downpour would wash the critter away. I fled.
When I finally got to a parking place on Main Street I was faced with a dilemma: (1) figure out some way to get out of the buggy without being jumped on by the spider; or (2) prepare to spend the rest of my life safely inside the truck.
But I had an idea. I tried to crawl across the console and reach the passenger door. QUE PROBLEMO! I have put on just a few pounds during the coronavirus isolation because there was nothing to but eat.
So I sorta got stuck on the console. I couldn’t reach the passenger side door handle. My pants were caught on the gearshift. I couldn’t move either way.
But I thought “Maybe it’s for the best” because there was a good chance that if I opened the passenger door the giant spider would dash across the hood and leap on my back and eat a hole in my neck.
Meanwhile the cop from the wrecked patrol unit was tapping his billyclub on the driver side window.
“Get your fat aXX out here,” he hissed between gritted teeth.
I will, officer, but first please look and see if there is a giant spider.
He didn’t believe me, and despite my hopes the spider didn’t pounce upon him and eat a hole in his neck while he wrote my ticket.
But I just know it was hiding under the windshield wiper or somewhere and it will jump on me next time I get anywhere near.
I’ve been walking to and from work since this incident. it’s only two miles. The buggy is parked in front of my office. Key is inside and there is a full tank of gas. Help yourself.
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ANIMAL CRACKERS. One chick in my patio bluebird box. Usually I have ‘em in batches of three. But Mama Bluebird must be worn out from being harassed by a mean ol’ Mockingbird. The Mockingbird has now taken to chasing bigger Bluejays. What is going on in the bird world?
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STILL WONDERING. Since the advent of the coronavirus, is there much mouth-to-mouth resuscitation going on? Should you wear gloves when doing mouth-to-mouth?
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SUNDAY WORSHIP during the quarantine. People are returning to their preferred houses of worship, but things are different, aren’t they? Alternating rows are taped off. The people in the pews are spaced properly and are wearing masks. Some have gloves.
The tables were turned this weekend for my family. I have been going to Mass online, but on Sunday I ‘returned’ to St. Martin’s. Daughter Julie, in quarantine in Maumelle, had kept up with where I had attended Mass in recent weeks. This time she found St. Martin’s on Facebook and watched. Says she even recognized her father wearing a camo mask.
Catholics still are not obliged to attend Sunday Mass.
During the quarantine I have attended Mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City, at the Cathedral of the Holy Cross in Boston, at a small chapel in Little Rock with the Bishop, services in Chinese in Hong Kong, in an office at the Diocese of the Dominical Republic, at a small church in Capetown, and finally, Halifax, Nova Scotia. No collections were taken up, and I had a cup of coffee beside me on the computer table.
Dr. John Hearnsberger’s COVID-19 address at First United Methodist Church here, Sunday, is reprinted in this newspaper issue.
God bless all, and stay healthy.
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THINGS I LEARNED from opening (and believing) anonymous emails: “The first novel ever written on a typewriter was “Tom Sawyer.”
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WORD GAMES. Another set of twins: Footloose and Fancy Free. Wherever they are, they manage to have a good time.
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HE SAID: “What lies behind you and what lies in front of you, pales in comparison to what lies inside of you.” Ralph Waldo Emerson, American philosopher and poet
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SHE SAID: “Nothing can beat the smell of dew and flowers and the odor that comes out of the earth when the sun goes down.” Ethel Waters, African-American singer and actress
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SWEET DREAMS, Baby
