Where Do I Live Again?!

I walked briskly to the corner of the the road,
looked around, and felt lost.
"Where do I live again?!" I thought to myself.
No blue trees, asteroid rock or Starbucks across the street.
When I had driven to Beautyland
that morning at seven AM to my crashpad,
it was pitch black out and I could barely find it.
When my new roommate let me in all I could think was,
"Martha Stewart DOES live here!"
I tried not to gape at the cathedral ceilings
and wall to wall antiques.
She was leaving for work and waved her hands around
in the air and said, "The kitchen's there
and dining room and I'll show you your room."
I kicked off my shoes and sank into the rug
and followed her up the quarter mile long staircase
thinking, "Oh yeah, I could get used to this..."
My room was on the front of the house
and she handed me a key and said,
"Make yourself at home girly-girl,
I'll see you at work."
So I did and couldn't help but compare
Beauty house to other crashpads I'd had.
The funky crashpad my buddybidder
Theresa and I had had in Greeley in 1989
or the pretty pantyhose jungle crashpad
I had in Diamond Head in 1988
with seven other flight attendants.
Carol left and I opened my wall-long closet
French doors and stared at the built in shelves
and thought, "What? No closet pole?"

First Grade Silly Sayings

I was checking out the first grader books
and looking at their pictures on
the screen from last year and I told Oban
he sure has grown up since kindergarten.
He leaned over the counter and looked
at me seriously and said,
"You know, Mrs. Nixon, you and I go back a looong way."

The Really Big Pinata and Other Odd Things on Planes

I was standing just inside the airplane doorway
in Merida and tried not to let my jaw drop open.
"That's a really BIG pinata." I said with
what I hoped was a friendly smile since I was thinking,
"What was she thinking?!"
The young brunette held it higher and said,
"Can you put this in the closet?"
The main body was the size of a round laundry basket
and the bright yellow points on the miniature sun
stuck out all over making it roughly the size of
a washing machine.
Even the 747 didn't have closet big enough
for this bad boy and we were on a little 737.
I walked out into the jetway and reached for the loops
at the top and assured the young lady it would
be safe down in bin one.
I zipped down the stairs and enjoyed the look on
the rampys' faces as they admired what was
possibly the biggest pinata ever made.

"Yes sir, let me show you to your seats
and I'll get the seatbelt extension for your tiger."
The little white and black Siberian tiger cub case
was snugly belted in and I got to pet him after take off.

"The captain is expecting you, please follow me."
I said to the medical courier with a small
Igloo cooler full of body parts. Couldn't help
but wonder what was in there as I had coffee in the
cockpit after we finished the service.

"How on earth did you get through security with
that plant?" I said to the teenager in the Grateful Dead
tie-died tee shirt out of Missoula connecting to SFO.
"When my room mates dropped me off at the airport they
said it would be nice to give my aunt in Berkely
this little tomato plant for a hostess gift."
Some room mates, sending a kid with a
pot plant on a commercial flight!

Our 737 landed in Houston and I gave the greeting over the PA,
opened the door, and had the First Class flight attendant
say our good byes as I dashed down the stairs for the
world's biggest pinata. I was holding it up for
the nice lady as she came out the door and
she was so happy.
Nearly thirty years later I still wonder where
that little sun ended up and more importantly,
how much candy did it hold!

The Bicycle Helmet Rack

I was raking raking raking
all the old debris from the
old carport. It was the original
carport for our house before the
garage was built thirty years ago.
It now sits in the corner of our
yard keeping the rain off the
bicycles, firewood and it
provides a nice dry shelter for
our copious rat population.
If you live on the edge of a swamp
with forty acres of blackberries,
rats happen.
So I'm raking raking raking
and notice a large square covered
with a tarp, holding about six
bike helmets on the top.
Odd, I don't remember seeing that
before. I lift up the tarp and
should not have been surprised
at what I saw.
Our old, broken washing machine.
My darling husband created a
nice, solid helmet rack.
Of course he did.

Odd Things in my Mail Jeep

I shoved the last letters into their
tiny one inch slots on my sorting case
and hustled over to my parcel bin.
A coconut!
I couldn't believe it and started laughing.
I did not know you were allowed to mail
mail that didn't look like mail.
After a few years of delivering mail
in Seattle out of Magnolia,
Bitter Lake and North City,
I was able to get hired at Bot hell
post office as a substitute.
After five years as a sub and one
long year as a T-6, I reached the
epitome of postalhood.
My own route!
Beautiful Holly Hills mobile estates
was mine, mine, mine.
The man I inherited the route from
told me, "There's old in them hills!"
The people were all retired and it was
fun to see them at their mailboxes every day.
Mr. Powell was building a mail order car.
Every week I'd deliver a new part.
The six foot mid-pipe that would connect
his engine to the muffler
hung out my jeep window on one side a foot.
When Auntie Agnes died in Alabama,
I delivered her ashes.
I was sure she was leaking out on me all day.
When Mr. Simpson fell from heat stroke,
I delivered him to Mrs. Simpson.
But I already wrote about that.

The Eight-Legged Pudu Deer

I looked down at my drawing with dismay.
I had the art book next to where
I was teaching the kids
how to draw a deer step-by-step.
My images were being captured by a
document camera and being displayed
on a large white screen behind me.
I had been in a hurry and grabbed a
black Flair pen instead of a pencil
and now I was going to pay for it.
I'd shown the kids how to draw the pudu
laying down with its legs tucked around
it and went on for the four brave kids
that wanted deer-legs standing up.
That was when I realized I couldn't
erase the first four legs.
"Oops. I accidentally drew
an eight-legged pudu deer."
It looked like the thirty second graders
were going to fall off their chairs
they were laughing so hard.
I might have needed more than one
"How to teach art to kids"
classes.

Jesus Christ Made Seattle Under Protest: Special Delivery Driver

I carefully wedged my large white postal
two-ton truck into the load zone.
I was thrilled to be in the dark canyon
of tall buildings with such an
important mission:
Special Delivery Mail!
It was special too and my old trainer John
had a big hustle as he dropped out of the truck
and zipped around behind our truck to
unload trays of special deliver mail
needing to go inside to all the law firms.
I took a deep breath as we entered the
building and he rolled the handtruck
to the bank of elevators.
My long blond hair was tied back in a ponytail
and I had on my blue two piece femailman
uniform with my shiny oval Special Delivery pin
pinned proudly to my then-small chest.
"Okay, here's the important thing kid."
John said looking down at me, "Always smile."
"You would not believe the loot
these guys give out at Christmas
if you give them great service and a big smile."
"Special Delivery is expensive and you gotta hustle!"
I smiled and quickened my step and dashed
around the sky-scraper one floor at a time.
"Good job kid. Now hop in and look at the
next mail and figure out where to park next."
I reached down and picked up the bundle and read the address.
"Hmmm" I thought as I read it and concentrated on what John taught me.
Jesus Christ Made Seattle Under Protest. Seattle streets running south to north.
Jefferson James
Cherry, Columbia
Marion, Madison
Spring, Seneca
University, Union
Pike and Pine
I looked over at John who was sucking deeply on his cigarette,
"Got it boss!" I exclaimed.
He looked at me and grinned, "Good job kid."