Yesterday it was nearly 90 degrees, and I really don't appreciate the Universe throwing that out following day upon day of cold, raw and rainy days. What is it? Some kind of torture mechanism? We did go over to the lake and sat on the dock, and this morning they put in the Whaler ... and we're supposed to go over later and put up screens. It is early, but the thing is, you must grab the summer days when they arrive. They can be fleeting and sporadic. Today it isn't really that nice. Which is the problem with a really hot sunny day coming out of nowhere, because it makes the days following that seem cold in comparison. It's probably 70 degrees, but that is 20 degrees cooler than it was yesterday. So it feels cold.
It's all wrong!!!! And yet, it happens year after year after year.
So on Friday night we went to a Proctor event which included a live band, dancing and encouragement from said band to be participants. They were more than happy to have you come up on stage and sing along, and they were insistent that you play instruments (they handed me this egg that shook -- I mean, picture holding an egg in your hand and shaking it ... what does it remind you of? Do they do it to be funny?)
They also hand out a tambourine, a stick and a bell and there was a bongo drum in the middle of the dance floor. I was busy chatting with people when I was grabbed by two friends and dragged out to the dance floor. I don't really need to be dragged, but that's what they did, and somehow I was deposited in front of the bongo drum. Seeing a fresh participant, one of the band members leapt off the stage and approached me and started banging on the drum, then indicated that I must follow suit. So I copied what he had done. Then he did something else, and I copied that, and so on, until I was sufficiently bongo-drum ready to be in the band and he left me.
Well. I do not take such tasks lightly, so I banged those bongo drums with enthusiasm, while the tambourine player kept encouraging me, the band members kept giving me thumbs up and other people kept saying I was doing a great job. I bongoed until I could bongo no more, and then I was coerced up onto the stage to sing. I explained, as the song began, to the lead singer standing next to me, that I did not know the song. That doesn't matter, though, you just wing it! I am sure I was pathetic, well of course I was, I didn't KNOW the song, but it was fun and I just waved to my husband and friends as they indicated that they were leaving (and watched them go out the door.) I stood up there (with others) until the last song was sung, and then ran off to find my ride. And it was then I noticed that my hands hurt. Like, a LOT. I had felt that the rings on my fingers felt tight, but I was otherwise occupied and didn't pay too much attention.
When I got home I realized my hands were seriously swollen and it took me a good long while to get the rings off my fingers. One of them is even bent! (The ring, not my finger!) I woke up in the morning and they were bruised, front and back, all over, and super swollen. BONGO DRUMITIS! They still hurt as I type this and are still swollen and bruised, though a little less.
So alas, my potential future career as a bongo drummer does not seem imminent because I am thinking my hands are too important for such a dangerous occupation. I clearly used every part of my hands because there are bruises on my wrists, the heels of my hands, all of my fingers ... the works.
I forgot how much fun it was to dance to a live band. I was running around planning a big party for this summer because, well, they are so much fun. Or at least I know **I** have fun! And if you are at this big party I plan to have and see me in front of the bongo drums -- please make me STEP AWAY!!!!
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