My e-mail/knitting/book club friends are coming to spend the week with me. Dearly Beloved and Miss Piggy fled to the beach on Friday to ensure that they would not be caught in a house with four silly, loud women in sweatpants.
I guess living with one is bad enough.
The four of us have met in the mountains and foothills of Georgia, North Carolina, and Alabama. This is their first time at my house.
If you do not have such a group, it is because you do not have a Birdie. She was the only one who knew the others and she tried to organize us as a book club. That didn’t work, but while we were turning down the book club, we became bound by our e-mails about our similarities and our differences. Since then, we have passed books around, learned to knit, shared grandchildren (these women actually watch my grandsons’ basketball videos!) and bonded on many levels.
Birdie is arriving today, flying in from Sarasota. I did not have to tell her the weather here–she tells ME the weather here, as she does the rest of us. She may well have e-mailed Dearly Beloved the weather at the beach.
Friday, Lulu sent an e-mail saying she was feeling sick and was going to bed. Mr. Lulu is away on business, so she was home alone. When we did not hear from her Saturday, Beanie and I worried that she was ill, but only Birdie worried that she’d had a stroke and was lying on the bathroom floor.
Here is the thing about Birdie: Once she told me that I could call her if I ever got lost and she would tell me how to get righted. I took advantage of that the time I was driving to Georgia and left the Driving Directions atop my car and they blew off before I even got off my street. I never noticed.
In Georgia, when I became hopelessly lost leaving my daughter’s neighborhood, I called Birdie for help. She said, “Tell me a landmark–anything you see” and had me straightened out before the traffic light even changed. When grandson-sitting in Indiana, I took the boys to a basketball game in another town on a snowy winter night and Birdie (having told me the Indianapolis-area weather, of course) turned me around from a wrong turn and we were on our way again. Don’t I have GPS? No, I have Birdie.
Her talents also extend to airports, yarn shops, medical information, and any place her googling fingers can take her. Think Abby on NCIS.
The thing is, today I am to pick her up at the airport and she is as precise in that planning as she is about everything else. She has sent numerous links about her airline flight. E-mails with her flight and time of arrival to all three of us are probably in case I accidentally stick my gum on the note in my purse, I can call one of the others. Birdie worries so much, in fact, that I want to reassure her. She can read this on the plane:
I am leaving now for the airport and will take the book you sent me to read. I will be in that cellphone lot at least an hour ahead of time because one of your e-mails said that the plane might be early. Call me.
My cellphone is now charging back to full power after my 2 1/2 hour conversation with tech representative in some middle east country about my e-mail issues. My phone, my e-mail, and my ear are still not working properly, but I can receive your call!
If I do not answer my phone, call the Highway Patrol and ask to which hospital the victim in the blue station wagon was carried. Don’t try calling me at the hospital; I will be unconscious–otherwise I would have hijacked the ambulance and headed for the cellphone lot.
If they do not have an accident report, send them to my house to break down the door… preferably not the one my unconscious body is blocking. If I am beyond unconscious, as in… croaked… have me hauled off and cremated. Then and only then, e-mail Dearly Beloved to notify him. He is playing golf today and already has too many stories about my interrupting his golf game. I wouldn’t want to go out giving him another one.
The rest of the group will arrive soon and you all can visit me in hospital or…um…wherever. There are butterscotch scones cooling on the kitchen counter and the fridge and the wine rack are full of beverages.
This is all just in case, you understand. I plan to be in that cellphone lot with a sandwich and my assigned reading. Can’t wait!!!