Friday, February 14, 2014

Stuff at the end of my driveway

Hello and hey there blog fans


You may think that today's post, because of the title of it, is about the trials and tribulations of having to shovel what the plow left at the end of my driveway. But no, it's not. Well, maybe a little. Earlier I put on my snow shoveling outfit...

Rule's Bringin' Sexy Back

and forced my daughter (the photo bomber) to help me chip away at the mound of hard, chunky, icy snow that the plow left - nay no doubt ENJOYED leaving at the end of my driveway. Well, I don't know that for sure. I have no actual proof. I didn't hear maniacal laughter after he'd done his dirty deed today or on any other plowing occasion. And besides, I'm well aware that it's not the plow's fault, but that of the driver and his directional, jerk like, snow dumping choices. Sigh...we were out there for 90 minutes and only managed 2/3 of the driveway before we called it "Daddy can get the car in. Let's go in for a beer" done.

But I digress. Let's get on with the real reason for this post. Childhood memories! Last night, as I was partaking in a play rehearsal in the gym (that has a lovely stage) at Nelson Rural School, I noticed a bench at the foot of a ramp which led to stage left. Various thoughts ran through my mind including "Does that really stop people from going up there? Do they approach it and say 'Hold on there Jim. There's a bench here. I think it means stay put!'?"

And the cynical side of me said, "No! Anyone could hope right over it...I mean it's not that high!", but then I got hit smack in the face with a childhood memory and my reasonable, rule obeying side said, "Yes, yes, it could."

ANYWAY, the reason I realized that the bench could very well keep people from running all willy nilly up and down the ramp or up onto the stage where they may perform an absolutely horrendous rendition of the most famous of monologues ever, (That's right, the one Gene Hackman does over the P.A. System in Crimson Tide. Ha! You thought I was going to say that one from that play...you know...by that famous guy...about the dude who has woe begone issues to the point of tedium and talks to a skull.)  IS BECAUSE I used to obey a piece of wood that behaved in a similar fashion.

When my brother and I were young'ins, and my mother would force us with not so subtle intimidation to "go outside and get some fresh air", the first thing we had to do if you we were planning on playing in the driveway was to bring out the DRIVEWAY STICK and place it at the of end of the driveway. No, I'm not kidding. We really had to do this. I'll show you.

Very Clear Depiction of Driveway Stick

Now, in case my brother reads this and decides to point it out, I'm well aware that across the street from us was not clear blue sky, but indeed houses which contained people that we will call "Neighbours".

Ok, so we did this when we played in the driveway and obeyed the driveway stick as if it had some sort of crazy, force field powers that not only prevented us from stepping over it, but also stopped us from going around it, by say...stepping onto the grass on either side of it!! Now, I'm not saying, the stick always had us in the grips of its control. No, one time my brother took a leaf from the tree (yes, the one that is clearly illustrated in the picture above) and chased a little girl named Tara AROUND AND AROUND THE STICK until eventually she tripped over it.

OOOOH! Epiphany! Maybe, even during the "leaf event" the stick was in control because after Tara tripped, there was no more going around the stick. Well, at least not that day and at least not for my brother. I have to be honest, I think I followed the commands of the driveway stick more diligently than my brother did. I was the boring child. The older sister who obeyed all the rules and sticks my family could throw at me. That new phenom "Elf on the Shelf" (creepy bugger) was made for kids like me.

And that's what I was thinking about last night during rehearsal when I wasn't on stage: how a piece of wood, placed just so, can somehow prevent children from doing something terrible or unwise. In our case, it was used as a reminder to not run out into the road and become one with the pavement should a car come by as we were standing there. In the case of the bench at the foot of the ramp that led to the stage, I'm convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that it is there to stop any children from tearing onto that procinium arch and busting out "Baby's Got Back." Thank-you Mum and Dad and thank-you Nelson Rural.

Happy Valentine's Day Everyone.

Feel the love and be creative.

Cin

1 comment:

  1. Happy Early Birthday Cindy!! (And Happy Valentine's Day!) I never knew about your driveway stick, or at least I don't remember...brilliant idea! We must have been doing much more important things than playing in your driveway.

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