I feel like writing a blog; giving birth to a snippet of myself and placing it out there for the world to see, but sometimes blog babies don’t want to be born. And you know what they say about forcing mother nature.. that’s a no no.
So I sat in my office chair and rocked back and forth, back and forth while I listened to my music on my profile page. (Gotta make sure all those links work, right?) Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…considering rocking chairs tend to freak me out, I was surprised I rocked for so long!
When I was a little girl, about 5, I was in my grandparents basement rocking in a chair. My grandfather was sitting on the couch watching me. I remember rocking so hard that I flipped the chair backwards and slammed my head up against the wall, my dress all around my ears, tulle skirt everywhere. My grandfather just started laughing. It seemed like an eternity before anyone came to help me disengage myself from the rocker, or to acknowledge my distress at having whacked my head, or the immodesty of having my dress around my ears and my legs, encased in my white tights and black Mary Janes waving madly above my head.. oh no…just my grandfather laughing!!
That’s the ONLY memory I have of that grandfather, because not long after that he died of a heart attack, face down in his bowl of ice cream. I always wondered if his sense of humor would have allowed me to laugh at that, or if he would have considered it poor taste.
Wocka wocka wocka….