Sunday, February 07, 2010

Not for the Faint Hearted

This is a true story.

Names have not been changed. No one is innocent.

Don't read on if you are squeamish or faint of heart, dear reader.

Every day I retrieve my black ski parka from the peg in the hallway.

It's an ugly garment but warm.

Every day I put it on along with gloves and a hat.

Every day I venture forth into the wide world and walk a couple of miles. This keeps me young. COUGH HACK CHOKE. This keeps me bitching and grousing for hours.

A winter walk is not like a summer walk.

It sucks more.

It reminds you more that you live in a godawful hellhole. NONONO, that is NOT true. I don't mean it.

But when I'm walking, I mean it.

Eventually I reach the halfway point.




Last week I was walking along and I felt this odd sense of movement in the front of my coat, sort of below my throat but veering off toward my armpit (I really hate saying armpit).

That was weird, I thought.

Was it a bracelet? Some stupid jewelry item? Bra strap?

A few minutes later it happened again.

Now this was plain creepy. I yanked off the right arm of my jacket and walked along that way for a while, one arm in and one arm out. Sort of the half-ass walking technique.

This is ridiculous, I thought. And freaking cold. So I took the jacket completely off and gave it a good hard shake and what do you think fell out?



I am still getting over it. In truth, I think it has happened to me in other years, but with a hat, which is worse in some ways.

So on that note, dear reader, you may have been wondering what happened to my coverage of the Vatican.
Vatican Museum
I will tell you. I didn't have my camera that day. I will also tell you that it was so incredibly crowded that I really thought someone could have been trampled.
I guess the highlight was in the Sistine Chapel when our very knowledgeable guide Greg directed our attention to the Michelangelo depiction of Adam and Eve and exactly where Eve is positioned in relation to Adam. Ahem. Cough.

The Serpent Interrupts Eve as she kneels before Adam, as shown on the Sistine Chapel ceiling

I don't know how many other tour guides address the blowus jobbus subject while standing in the Sistine Chapel, but hey, whatever. No one drifts off, know what I'm sayin'?

Papers abound. Only one bloop so far: "My mother waited up for me till one in the mourning."
A rivedercci, dear reader.


At 4:07 PM , Blogger Kristina said...




I see a picture of St. Peter's but I can't think right now because EWWWWWWWW!!!!

At 4:32 PM , Blogger Becky Willis Motew said...

Uh oh, I hope that Adam and Eve pic is coming through. I stole it of course, but from someone else's blog. Why should they care, eh?

About the eek, oh god Kris, I freaked totally.

At 12:47 AM , Blogger sandman1 said...

That would freak me out too. My father reportedly kept mice as a child and walked around with one in his shirt pocket -- can't say I know what that feels like.

I have to wonder what became of your mouse though, which was probably warm and content right up until being dumped in the road in the frigid cold! (Stilll beats a mouse trap though.)

PS That Eve has some biceps on her...

At 6:03 AM , Blogger Becky Willis Motew said...

Sorry to say I am only happy that the mouse is out of my house. I suppose another sad note was very small. :(
Yes. Biceps.

At 12:17 AM , Blogger Kay McKenzie Cooke. said...

I am still all of a-shudder! I'd be totally freaking! Ugh.
Had to laugh at the art ... wonder what the artist himself would have made of that interpretation? (Your student's poor Mum probably has had her fair share of grief!)

At 6:10 AM , Blogger Becky Willis Motew said...

HAR, Kay, about the share of grief. Every time I pick up my coat I think maybe I don't want to put it on.


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