Narrow Escape

This weekend was a "blah" weekend. Boom had a bit of a cold, and my husband and I were tired and didn't feel like going out, so we did the hermit thing. The only time anyone got out was my husband taking Boom to tennis lessons on Saturday, and me, to get my hair colored, which I absolutely hate doing.

Until I started to go seriously gray, I never even went near a salon. I always feel as if it is a colossal waste of time, I do not like the gabbing gossip that goes on, and I hate the smell and feel of the "product" that is applied to my sensitive skin. However, when you are of "advanced maternal age" and your kids are 4 and 2, you really need to do all you can so that people won't confuse you with the children's grandmother.

I have already gone through several audio books. I am soaking them in like a wilted houseplant that finally gets a cup of water. The minute one CD ends, my hands almost shake as I fumble to put in the next one. I am giddy to be "reading" again, and I do it constantly. I need to be careful not to have my ears plugged all the time, which I'm afraid I had, this weekend. I had to take out my headphones to hear what my boys were telling me. I even listened myself to sleep.

I finished Momzillas (Jill Kargman) The Girls of Riadh (Rajaa Alsanea) and Angela's Ashes (Frank McCourt). I am now in the middle of Teacher Man, also by Frank McCourt, and have a few lined up that I can't wait to read, for example, Leap of Faith : Memoirs of an unexpected Life by Queen Noor, aka Lisa Halaby, and Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books (Azar Nafisi.) My rental shelf contains close to 100 titles. I am in heaven.

Tomorrow I will write in my other blog about how I stopped my car, containing my boys, to get out and pick up some trash that was in the road, in front of my sister-in-law's house. 5 minutes later, a 100-foot tree dropped on the very spot. Needless to say, I am very happy that we were spared. That tree would have landed on me or on our car, and would surely have maimed or killed one, two, or all three of us.

I feel very lucky tonight. Hey, it's not every weekend that you can say you had a close brush with the unimaginable.