In honor of Halloween, here’s a re-post from 2014.
Some things are just plain scary. Like ghosts. They might be friendly Caspers but I don’t see how that’s reassuring when you have one in your bedroom watching you sleep. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying I have a ghost watching my fitful slumber. But there could be. How would I know? I’m asleep.
Personally, I’m fascinated by things many find ridiculous. Things like ghosts, UFOs, Ouija boards and Sarah Palin. Actually, I take that back. I don’t find Ms. Palin fascinating, just ridiculous. And a little bit scary. But I digress…
It sits safely tucked away on the back shelf in my garage. During my once-a-year purging, I come across its cold, musty leather with worn straps barely holding it together. The feel of it in my hand is cool and tight around my fingers and it smells of leather oil. I love that particular scent because it brings back fond memories of my childhood.When you’re an 8-year-old tomboy, the best gift you can receive is your brother’s baseball glove that helped the Indians win the Little League Championship.
Sometimes I’m envious of people who excel in a particular area. That’s because I’m limited in the talent department. I can think of only 2 areas where I’m decent: I’m an okay writer and I can play tennis. That’s pretty much it. I love baking but I’m no Martha Stewart. I enjoy cooking but I’m no Rachael Ray. And no doubt I’d be the first to get booted from Dancing with the Stars and most definitely The Voice.
This year marks 50 years since my besties and I joined a softball team. When I wrote this posting in 2016, I was 61. I’m turning 70 this year and we’re still going strong — although no longer on the softball field! Through all these years our relationships have continued, creating new memories yet never forgetting the way we were way back when. What fun we’ve had, and still have. So here’s to you Sue, Sharon, Mandy, Patty, Karen, Joan, Maria, Pam and Sheila. Looking forward to what’s to come.
Last week some friends and I attended my godson Martin’s baseball game (an independent professional team) at Albert Park in San Rafael. Being there was a trip down memory lane. Thirty-one years ago these same friends and I stepped off the adjoining field for the last time after playing fast-pitch softball for 10 years. When we formed the team in 1975, I was the old lady of the group at age 20. Little did we know then what fun times awaited.
Sitting there watching Martin play brought back many fond memories. Insert music here: Memories,light the corners of my mind, misty water-colored memories of the way we were. Okay, enough of that. Suffice to say those 10 years together stretched into 40 (now 50). And we’re still going strong.
Now Don't Get Me Wrong 