So to speak, I am not the calming, gentle affect of an evening at home by the fire. No, not me. I am a wild land fire on a hot windy day. I might as well wear a red furry coat around this month, because it is that easy to hear and see me as I pass by.
Whether it is a blessing or a curse, it is the state of my being. I have had to embrace it; to lovingly accept it as a part of who I am. And, over the years and though it sometimes conflicts with my shy and gentle side, when I find the need to blend into the scenery has overcome me, I just put on my furry red coat and fringe panties and with false bravado beneath my ass, climb on the bar....kidding!
I have instant karma too. The minute I need a reality check, the Lord always provides one for me. I have one of my wild Nevadan stories to tell today. I shouldn't. I don't want to. But, it is like a red fur coat and fringe panties. You can't get away with wearing such an outfit, unless you are willing to shake those cha chas. False bravado does, in fact, sometimes turn into real bravado...facing fears being what we humans must do, all too often.
So, I blogged last week, about how this old naked stick bush has not got hung up in the fence, once, since the adventure of this new life began. That same day I reported to my mother, who we lovingly refer to as the wagon master because of her place as matriarch of the family, that things are going along well, with an up tick, a round of positive attitudes and such.
"We haven't even wrecked the place." I told her about our temporary home, my grandmother's house.
She knows about my tendency to break glass and what not. I am sure she was releved to hear as much. I know I was overly happy to report as much.
And so this naked stick bush has been so happy (even without a job or Internet service) my general attitude could be compared to a wildnevadan dancing on the bar, in perpetual state of happy hour. You know since the gate was left open and the tumbleweed inside me escaped and started dancing on this wind, there hasn't been one reason to trouble myself with toil. I have done nothing but cultivate the celebration, inside. Already, I have gained a much needed four pounds, in my sated state.
Like I said before, when a good dose of reality is needed to bring me back to Earth, the Lord never fails to bring me to it. Such is what happened this weekend and now the good men and women of the Kingston Volunteer Fire Department are my heroes.And, I have been given credit for "being the most exciting thing to happen around here in awhile." They have no idea how the law of attraction that affects this old naked stick bush...
Yes, the rumor is true. There was a small, man made, brush fire on the property in Kingston. No real damage was done, except to actual sagebrush and spirits, which has dampened my tumbleweed ability to dance. Oh, talk about finding myself hung up in the fence despite the wind. Talk about the end of that extended feeling of happy hour.
I might have never even mentioned it here on the Dancing Tumbleweed blog, because it was embarrassing; and I do not know for sure, except that there was no lightning, how the fire began. But, a friend from Tonopah left a message on my phone last night; and he already knew a version of the story. Sometimes, being the girl in the red fur coat and fringe panties is a travesty! And, as small as the hill and dale is between Kingston and Tonopah, it is quite a distance for such a tale to travel so fast....ahem it crossed a county line!
So I will give you all I know. Yes. I had to dial 911. In my state of panic I told dispatch it was "An emergency!" and not knowing the real address on James Court of that little yellow house I have made a visit to every few months for 33 years, I added, "The fire is highly visible! Just get in the fire truck, and come on!" And they did. And between them, the equipment, and their quick response time, and my foresight to have called them immediately, TRAGEDY was AVERTED.... THANK YOU LORD.
And, so I have been shaking my head in dismay and embarrassment for days, unable to dance or get out of this fence I was caught up in when the fire began. And, I was only temporarily relieved the wagon master did not reach through the phone and strangle me when I told her about the mysterious incident. And, now it being Monday again, I know it is time to get my red fur coat and pull up my big girl red fringe panties so that I might metaphorically hop back on my horse and just embrace what was just a little too much of me. You know...Ride cowgirl, ride...
So, starting today, I am going to call "it" a minor setback. And, it being time to dance again, I shall return to the duty of that. But, this time I shall dance with my feet on the ground (instead of the metaphorical bar and happy hour in which I referred to earlier). And, this time, I am dancing with a good dose of reality lit under my ass.
Have a good week you all. I hope I see you again before wild Wednesday rolls around!
HjB
Aug. 22, 2011
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