November 16, 2004
I blinked several times as the sun slowly infiltrated my sight. I removed the hardened bits of sleep encrusted to the corners of my eyes and continued to blink helplessly at the sun. A yawn, a stretch, more blinking. With anxious curiosity, I turned my head toward the clock, as though the time could really have mattered. It was Sunday. Time could hold no meaning over my precious desire of repose. But I felt guilty despite all this. It was nearly noon..."Will you help me today, Laura?"
"With what? I'd rather know what I'm getting into before resigning myself."
"Bagging leaves. It'll take 20 minutes."
"Alright, sure!"
"I'll be back in a few with some trash bags."
I looked outside and had to admit that it was nearly a perfect day for such an activity - besides, a little manual labor never hurt anyone. John handled the raking and I held the large black garbage bags in the ready. This was not as easy as I had thought. I had to position the bag just so, allowing the breeze to capture the opening while John dumped in a rake full of crisp fall leaves. Once I had mastered this, the next trick was overcoming my belly aching laughter long enough to make the transaction. I was giggling so hard that tears were obstructing my sight and thus making the task last quite a bit longer than 20 minutes. Half of the leaves made it into the bag while the other half were strewn about my jacket, provoking more gut wrenching laughter. Who would have guessed that disposing of leaves could be so much fun?
We were then employed with carrying the 16 bags in and on John's car to the end of court where a large ravine was located. There was no room in the car, nor on top of it, and thus I was absolutely elated to hop into the trunk and hold two bulging bags of leaves. I said good morning as we passed an older man who simply looked at me and shook his head. This induced more hearty laughter. Two by two, we carried the bags to the edge of this hill and dumped the leaves out of their container. We made two trips and on the second trip, the old man shouted to his wife to 'check this out,' as I sat smiling in my place in the trunk. Upon our return, John punched the gas. The trunk lid came crashing down and I caught it just in time to prevent a concussion and/or flying out the back of the vehicle.
"Still there?"
"Kinda, yeah."
I headed home to prepare for the Packer vs. Vikings game to no avail. Apparently, with the four channels my TV incorporates, not one of them had the game. John brought over the makings for ham sandwiches and we settled for the languid motions of U.S. soccer players followed by a brief viewing of Pirates of the Caribbean. We were both exhausted and thus the evening ended shortly. The Bears had won (if you can believe it) against the Titans and the Packers won against Minnesota - all was well with world. I took this opportunity to catch up with an old friend.
I rang my best girlfriend and finally had the opportunity to convey the details of my trip to Paris - she was absolutely enthralled. I discussed how John prepared me for the vacation by taking me on the train from Milwaukee to Chicago. Mollie stuttered a bit before inquiring,
"You're taking a train from here to Paris?"
"No, Miss Mollie. I'm taking a plane to Amsterdam and a train from there to Paris..."
"I was going to say! I didn't think they had a train that went across the Atlantic. That would be cool, though - like a Scuba Train!"
*sigh*