With the passing of Washcinda, we've been forced back to that red light district known as the laundry mat. We made the earth shaking decision to only wash our clothes there and then bring them home to hang on the line. Beloved said that he didn't mind the rough, scratchiness of clothes dried on the line. He said it reminded him of his childhood. I admit that little comment made me grin. It means that in some small way, I remind of him of his mother. Okay, maybe not, maybe he's just a man who remembers scratchy clothes. Think what you may, I've decided to take it personally and accept it as a compliment.
Before we paid a visit to the laundry mat washing machines, I had to work at the gym. I don't really mind working an occasional Saturday, Girl sleeps most of the day anyway and I'm usually home around two in the afternoon. Today, however, was tea day.
Our gym is involved with the Relay for Life. It's an on going tradition and this year they decided to hold a fund raising tea to raise funds for their team. The master mind and tea planners went all out. It was beautiful. The labor these two ladies put into this event was nothing short of delightful.
Thus, I was reminded again of how wonderful my fellow employees are. Gracious, kind, creative, and darn good cooks to boot. I'm honoured to call them friends.
And the thing that struck me the most were the faces of those who joined us for tea. Old members, new members, children, friends; all gathered to sip tea and converse in the relaxed atmosphere of the gym.
An unusual site, certainly, but in many ways THIS is exactly what Curves is; a community of women.
I wore my hat, the one I love. It's the hat I wear as soon as the sun makes his appearance in the sky. It has a wide brim and sits low on my forehead. It allows me to observe without being observed.
They sat, chatting, and sipping tea, surrounded by flowers and beauty that is seldom seen in a gym. I noted the American Indian sitting at a small table with a devout lady of faith. Their laughed tickled my ears.
A little girl darted through the crowd, squealing.
Another stole through the room shooting pictures with her Nana's camera.
The little woman, the one who reminds me of a very small, thin hobbit patted my arm and thanked me. I felt guilty, after all, I'd helped with some of the set up and donated the use of my 26 tea cups (yes, 26), but really didn't do much. The hobbit lady shared her delight and then winked and said, "It's our first ANNUAL tea!"
I suppose that means there will be more tea parties at the gym.
What a smashing idea.