Every Thursday night, I sojourn out to the wilds of West County for my goddess meeting, at Bev's house. That is old time AA, you know, meeting in a member's house. Bev is our AA Martha Stewart. Her house is always being decorated, and redecorated, and remodelled. There are all kinds of homey touches, but the best is this gigantic ceiling beam in the family room where we sit. Carved into it, and gilded gold, are the words "We Plan, God Laughs". And every Thursday night it is as if I never noticed it before, or knew those words, even though I have been going to this meeting for 12 years now. And lately, I know God has been snickering up Her sleeve about me and my little plans and ideas. Like heading out the door Wednesday morning with my Monet tote under my arm and Speedo under my cargo pants, only to be turned away at the door of the aquatic center. Pump repair, bah! Why can't they do that at night, when everyone else is sleeping? Like, they want to sleep, too? So I decided to go on Sunday, a day I am now taking off from anything stenuous. It rained. Not just a little drizzle, either, but a full-fledged downpour. Now, I love my swim, but that seemed a little, well, obsessive. I got there yesterday, on a kind of cool, windy, cloudy day, and shivered a lot afterward as I wended my way from pool to lockeroom. Just a foretaste of winter, which seems to want to come early here. I heard we are in for an El Nino year here, wet and wild. The watertable is happy, but I may have to bite the bullet and join a gym. One with a pool, indoors.
No comments:
Post a Comment