Hello, my darlings! Did you miss me? I know I did! But I’m back now, with all kinds of lovely things to talk about… and a couple not so lovely, but let’s leave those for next week, shall we? Right now I want to talk about having a good time and trying things.
This is my very good friend, Kat, and her horse, Joe, participating in a recent gymkhana.
They came in last place, alas. Still, considering that Kat hadn’t been on a horse in two years and had only just gotten Joe, she feels that getting through the entire course was plenty of win. And, in point of fact, it is. Rising in the ranks can come later.
Sometimes the most important thing isn’t whether we competed well or got precisely the result we would wish for on a star, but the fact that we got up and did something we don’t normally do.
I did a couple of those sorts of things on my recent vacation. I tried my hand for the very first time at making lemon curd. Why in the name of all that’s delicious did I put this off for so long??? I am now officially a curd-making fool! I’m eager to play with various citrus fruits, adding different flavorings, and making bigger batches.
Of course, trying out a new dish (especially a pastry-related one) isn’t that huge a risk for me. I have a natural affinity for the kitchen, and if I fail… it’s a few wasted ingredients and an hour or two, not the end of the world.
But I did do something much scarier for me. As some of you are aware, Mr. Twistie is a musician. He gigs with a couple bands in addition to the one he heads and writes for. One of these bands had a gig at a KOA campground with a nightclub and docks, and the idea arose that it would be fun if all the guys in the band brought along their wives. I had nothing else on that weekend and our next door neighbor was happy to look in on the cat, so I said sure. That’s not the scary part.
The band was hot, the room was dark, and I have night blindness. When the lights dim, I can’t tell what’s a foot in front of me. It’s the worst inheritance I got from my mother. So on the incredibly rare occasions when I go to clubs, I tend to park myself in a chair and not move for the rest of the night.
After a while of sitting in a room that looked like this to me:
… one of my friends came over with a parrot. Someone had brought a pair to the party and R had one of them on her shoulder. She wanted to introduce me. Well, I reached out and gave the bird a pet, and what did he do? He reached out with his beak, took a firm but gentle grip on my shirt, and hopped straight onto my shoulder! I’d never held a bird before. There was something intoxicating about this creature choosing to come be with me.
And then I did something else I hadn’t done before. I got up into the darkness, made my way onto the dance floor, and danced solo with that parrot on my shoulder. What’s more, I managed to dance around with no visual clues in a sea of seriously drunken people without physical harm to me, any other dancers, or the parrot!
Now that was a chance taken!
Would I do it again? That kind of depends on my mood and the situation. Am I glad I did it once? You bet your sweet bippy, I am!
Sometimes you just have to do something utterly unexpected. It’s how you know you’re still really alive.