Just in time for the end of the month! Most of May and the first week of June were plagued with a nasty case of sciatica... my first and hopefully the last. Spasms of white-hot knives of pain from lower back to my knee along my left leg. After three weeks of little sleep and grinding teeth from managing pain every day, all day, I finally had a meltdown one Friday morning and wept. And wept. And wept... and shivered and shuddered with exhaustion. Finally I was able to move and get out of bed with minimal pain. By that afternoon, 98 percent of the shooting daggers of this injury, however it occured, were gone. Ah... blessed relief.
But it still put me behind on my parade duties which made the next three weeks of June a misery.
Even though, as I was standing there playing traffic cop at the start of the parade, seeing all the colorful, happy people -- people proud of themselves -- I felt a well of emotion swell up and little sneaky tears escaped to run free along my cheeks.
Not once in the 20 years that I have been working this event has that ever happened. Matter of fact, it was almost 25 years before, while judging LA's parade, that I did cry in a similar way. It was the sheer magnitude of the event, in comparison to Boston's, that made me do so.
Never under estimate the power of people to move you. Or to move great expectations.
A mistral wind is a strong, dry, clearing wind generally out of the north, that sweeps across the Vaucluse region of southern France. My friend Karen, also known as GameMaster Aelsidhe and the player behind Kali Sablefen, from the text MUD GemStone IV, told me that if I ever set up a Web site, I should use that as a name. Like a clearing wind, a blog allows me to sweep the demons, gremlins, and cobwebs out of my mind.
Open Gate
What awaits within?
About Me
- Marsha
- Funny, sincere, well-meaning, trusting, loving, quirky. Fiery virgo.
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