The ShugaBowl: February 2007

Sunday, February 18, 2007

A Trip to Dodge City

Saturday evening, James and I went back in time to visit the old west. After thrift shopping for different articles of clothing to complete our costumes, we turned ourselves out as "Ace" Thompson and his girl, Dolly. The occasion for such doings was a banquet held at church for Valentine's Day. Although not valentines ourselves, we thought we'd go and "represent the family", as I think it was said. I wasn't really looking forward to it. I didn't expect to see anyone within ten years of my age, and I wasn't disappointed. I think the set younger than us began at thirteen years old.

But I became more interested when it came time to put together an outfit. Wearing a black shawl, white top and a long green skirt, I was afraid I wouldn't look quite western, but everyone seemed to like the "uniquity", as everyone else wore denim. My hair at least was done up in the correct fashion. With a mere six votes, Ace won a prize for best costume. (I voted for him!) He said he was shooting for the well-to-do merchant look, but when he tucked the ace of spade into his sleeve, we really couldn't believe him. Everyone got a great laugh out of it. Some folks were still calling him Ace this morning at church. :) I wish I had a picture to show you but the only one we got was on his cell phone. They did make us pose for photos at the banquet, so if I can get that one eventually, I'll post it later.

The banquet was okay. I didn't really know anyone there except one couple, the Holmeses, and the pastor's family. There were different games to play; a scavenger hunt through the church, a guessing game as to how many pairs of socks Mrs. Dillon had shoved into this big old cowboy boot, and "musical tables", which consisted of each table singing for their supper. Unfortunately, the songs were predetermined by table and I was absolutely stuck singing She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain in a very boisterous manner.

The food was incredible! I have never had such delicious beef brisket. My stomach is rumbling as I type. It was so good! Then there was cornbread, burritoes, Angel salad and fruit. The dessert was even worse--cheesecake and cherries. There was this light fluffy chocolate cake roll that had been filled with real cream, not Coolwhip, but the real stuff that's homemade and whipped with sugar and milk. To die for! I'm tellin' ya.

But the pinata was the height of fun. James was chosen to go first, and, unused to his surroundings and unable to get his bearings by the voices of those around him, grabbed the mop handle/pinata stick in the middle, steadied himself, and then took a few Jedi-like swings with his lightsaber, impressing everyone with his ability to spin it with one hand, pass it behind and pick it up spinning with the other hand. I was proud. :) Then the 13-year-old told him to "use the Force, Luke!" At which point he made a crushing blow to the pinata, not breaking it, but sending the candy flying anyway. It took only two more Jedi to bring down the candy-stuffed party animal.

It was much more fun than I looked forward to, and now I'm glad I went.

posted by cori 2/18/2007 04:34:00 PM 0 comments

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Wednesday, February 14, 2007

In Search of a Fairytale

Cinderella flew through the air, away from all things ugly and ordinary. And when she landed, she found herself most impertinently surrounded by pirates! "We have come for ye glass slipper!"

Let's hope I can do better than that at story-telling. Of course, my life isn't as exciting as Cinderella's appears to be, but that what a teller of stories is for--to make the ordinary into the extraordinary. :)

Now let me see. What is that phrase you use? Ah, yes. Once upon a time, and not so very far away, there lived a young girl, who longed for a fairytale.

She was not an extraordinary. She wasn't a Cinderella, slaving away at the mundane and finally rescued by Prince Charming, nor was she an Aurora, always cheerful and ever willing to do menial tasks that she had just done yesterday (berry-picking?!?). She was not a Bedouin princess with countless suitors, or an Anastasia, in search of a past she never knew. She was not the fairest in the land, victim of an evil queen's jealousy. She didn't even know any queens. She was just an ordinary.

Her friends were ordinaries too. They weren't magical fairies from Neverland, or pirates of the Jolly Roger. They weren't short little men who made a fortune in diamonds as an everyday occurrence. Nor mice, owls, rabbits, crabs, seagulls, flounders, tigers, or talking candelabras. Her friends were just ordinaries, like her.

But whenever this ordinary girl met with her ordinary friends, extraordinary things began to happen.

Like the time the French resistance fighters were holed up in an abandoned shed, enemy riflemen storming the building at every opening. Hour after hour, the resistance held up against the onslaught of enemy fire. After what seemed like an eternity of perpetual activity and alertness, the fire ceased. A chilling stillness engulfed the young fighter and her three remaining companions. How much longer could they hold on? There was no hope of rescue. Their only officer had gone down. The more seasoned of the four fighters took command, and our young fighter gave all to follow her.

Ordered to remain invisible and unfamiliar with her surroundings, she crawled through utter blackness to the post abandoned by her fallen officer, and took up the watch. Her orders were to strike only when sure of success.

She waited. Crouched with her back to the wall, she remembered her training. "A good soldier knows that invisibility is the result of patience and agility." The words echoed through her mind. She could be invisible, and her training had made her agile. She could wait for opportunity to present itself.

It seemed like hours. Bullets rained overhead as her adversaries took out her companionts one by one. She watched, crouching in the darkness, powerless to help them. Each time the barrage started again, she weighed her chances.

Voices approached her position and without warning, the walls of her barricade were repositioned to accommodate the enemy. They dismantled her entire defense! Her only chance to remain unseen was to remain completely motionless. Only her back was defended. Surely they knew she was there. They must have seen her. She was done for now!

But, no, if they had known she was there, they'd have killed her without mercy. Fire was directed at her officer. She could try to help her friend. It would expose her, but she could help. But would such an action be worth it in the long run?

No. She decided to wait for opportunity to come to her. But because this decision had cost her the life of her leader, she would make the opposition pay for their work. The bullets ceased and voices were raised.

"I got you Manda!"

"You shot me in the back!"

"That means you're dead!"

The battle continued with words instead of bullets. The young fighter recognized one voice as that of the Commander of the opposing force. The time had come.

Slowly, quietly, crouching, she manuevered around the works. There! Her opponent was less than three feet away! The fighter let loose two bullets. "YES!! Danielle is OUT! I got her!"

Our young heroine became an ordinary once more as she danced a dance of victory and delight. Her fallen officer, on hearing of her daring act of bravery and self-sacrifice, awarded her the title of “Phantom” and the right to sign the special Aerosoft Hall of Fame book.

posted by cori 2/14/2007 03:15:00 PM 0 comments

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