Sunday, March 23, 2008

Journal of a Living Lady #318
Nancy White Kelly

Spring is springing, but don’t be fooled. Blackberry winter is a reality in these parts. Buddy and I moved from South L.A. in 1994. (That is lower Atlanta for those of you who moved here from somewhere yonder.) New to the mountains, we quickly learned not to put our cold-weather clothes away too soon. In late spring, Buddy stores our winter things in the attic above the garage. It is a steep climb up that wooden ladder Buddy built 14years ago. He isn’t as agile as he used to be. I have never been agile and seldom do ladders, even the three-foot kind. Buddy shouldn’t do ladders either at his age. He fell off one recently.

My Buddy is a great guy, but a poor patient. He whined about soreness for days. I was grateful he didn’t break a hip, but rolled my eyes after the umpteenth time of hearing about it. Granted, I wasn’t born to be a nurse.

Several days ago I called to check on a neighbor who was recovering from minor surgery. For thirty minutes she gave me a blow by blow description of every quiver of her bowels for the last ten days. I patiently listened. It was all so moving, but be assured she won’t be hearing from me anytime in the near future. Some things you don’t discuss ad infinitum and constipation is one of them…at least not with me.

But, if you want to whine about taxes, I’ll join you. As I get out my receipts, calculator, IRS forms, and another cup of coffee, I will share with you one of my favorite stories:
While eating at a local buffet, a man suddenly called out, "My son's choking! He swallowed a quarter! Help! Please, anyone! Help!"

A man from a nearby table stood up and announced that he was quite experienced at this sort of thing. He stepped over with almost no look of concern at all, wrapped his arms around the boy's abdomen, and squeezed. Out popped the quarter. The man then went back to his table as though nothing had happened.

"Thank you! Thank you!" the father cried. "Are you a paramedic?"

"No," replied the man. "I work for the IRS."

The Living Lady is happy that winter will soon be over, that Buddy is not in a full-body cast, and that my friend’s digestive track is functioning properly. I will be even happier when our tax return is in the mail.

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