I was the short-straw winner of parking lot duty this morning. Actually, it's a standing duty. Heh, heh. I said standing duty, and we STAND. The duties are set at the beginning of each school year. Wednesday is my day now. The parking lot is better than bus, but not as convivial as cafeteria. It's usually peaceful in the morning, except for chastising speeders. My issue is with uncontrollable climatic factors.
Today was a zephyr morning. An annoying swirl of wind dogged me the entire thirty minutes. Not an ongoing gale, to which I could adjust my position, and lean into like I was riding the bow of the Titanic. A twisty wispy current that reshaped my hair until I looked like a cat had given my head a bath. A cat without a cosmetology license.
Thankfully, it is not yet Chapstick season. Because tufts of hair would have become glued to my lips. At least this morning they waved to and fro, tickling me like a freshman on a band bus headed for a competition, wielding a pillow feather and stroking the undernose area of sleeping trombone players.
It was the kind of wind that hawks ride like an aerial lazy river. Two yellow sugar-maple leaves circled overhead like a pair of such raptors, but without the promise of snagging a field mouse, or dropping liquid feces on my head. The wind away from the building roared like a category five hurricane. Trees bent. It was a toss-up on which I would see first: an old crone pedaling a bicycle with a Cairn terrier in the basket, or a Holstein cow and the entire cast of the movie Twister.
I yearned for a knit beanie to hold my tresses in place. I'm not sure whether it would have looked more out of place on me, or on those hipster dudes who wear them during midwestern summers at 107 degrees.
A beanie is a curious fashion statement but I'm sure you could pull it off.
ReplyDeleteStephen,
ReplyDeleteI must clarify that I mean "beanie" as in the name the cool kids have for the knit skull caps so loved by hackey sackers. Not the "beanie" of our generation, striped, with the helicopter doodad on top. Though I agree with you that I could pull both of them off. What with my keen fashion sense, and a pair of broken-down Crocs.
Driving home this evening, a huge mass of autumn-colored leaves came swirling at me, straight at the windshield. The storm was fueling everything in a cockeyed manner, creating a scene like from a movie. The sidelong cyclone of color was--oh yeah, Crocs. Those shoes are the perfect accessory, no matter what the occasion is...
ReplyDeleteMy cat had no cosmetology license. Still, he was much better at doing my hair than the lady at the beauty shop. RE: Twister movie. Have you ever figured out how Helen Hunt was able to strap herself to a pipe with a belt, go through a cat-5 tornado and not even lose a button off that white blouse?
ReplyDeleteVal,
ReplyDeleteThis could work out in your favor. Just don't bother with doing anything whatsoever with your hair on Wednesdays. The time you would spend on your hair you can spend helping The Pony, Genius and Hick to get ready for their day, instead.
Sioux,
ReplyDeleteI heartily agree. They come in every color. Hick, himself, has a pair of camouflage Crocs. Which he wears with the heel strap down behind his heel! I have tried to tell him that NOBODY does that. He might as well wear MOM JEANS!
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Leenie,
Did you have one of those cutters who have lopsided eyes? The ones who always cut one side of your hair shorter than the other?
The students say a certain teacher tells them a story every spring, about the time he tied himself to a tree with a belt during a tornado. I say he either lost a lot of weight, or he needed to go belt shopping.
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Carol,
What a scathingly brilliant idea! Perhaps I should start with breakfast in bed. French toast for Genius, homemade cinnamon rolls for The Pony, and a hearty fry-up of bacon, sausage, eggs, potatoes, and cheese for Hick. While they were eating in their respective beds, I could lay out their clothing for the day. Then I could style their hair, pin some lunch money in their shirt pocket, and send them out into the world. Then I would need to wash the dishes by hand, giving thanks that I have running water and a kitchen sink, rather than having to hike down to the creek.
And then you would start walking down the road so you could get to the polls in time to vote for Willard.
ReplyDeleteknancy,
ReplyDeleteWait! Women have the right to vote now? And to think I was dwelling on my life without a dishwasher.