Moondance

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When a moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie that’s amore. Thanks for that obscure song in my head Dean Martin. So at 4:30 am, what to my wondering eyes did appear, but a synchronized dance of the moonlight glare. I raise my head up, and struggle to lift my eyelids off my bleary eyeballs. How beautiful, I think as I take it all in for a moment. Sleep forces me back down, and I sink into my pillow. The warm comfort cocoons me. An inner light bulb clicks on inside my mind, ” You know?” suggests my inner voice, ” You should get up. Go take a picture of that magnificent representation of nature. You always wanted a moonlight photo. ”

I pull the covers up over my head ignoring the idea. The voice becomes whiney and nasal, ” What’s wrong with you? Get up! Your camera is in the cupboard, the tripod is in the closet, and the manual is in your nightstand. ” The voice is babbling now, annoyingly excited, “ If you hop on Pinterest, you can get the settings to take the picture. It could be done in an instant. Faster than it takes for your body cells to divide. ”

” I don’t know how long it takes for my body cells to divide. I don’t want to get up. It’s too early. ”  I protest. I inhale a deep breath and sigh. My body relaxes.

The voice says, “ You could google how long it takes for a body cell to divide. ”

I don’t move hoping my mind quietens.

“ Listen. ” orders the voice, ” Time for a reality check, if you live as long as your Mom, you have eight years left. Only eight years before you turn into a spook, and learn how move stuff without a body, to scare the crap out of your kids. ”

I smile, that’ll be fun.

“ Not a lot of time. ” Says the irritating voice. I can hear imaginary fingernails tap on a counter inside my head, like the ticking of a clock.

” Fine. ” I groan, ” I’ll get up. ” I slide down the side of our tall bed. I think my husband bought our giant bed on purpose. Just so he could watch me struggle to get in. I’m stubborn, no stool for me. I’ll attach a rope ladder first. In eight years he’ll inscribe a logo on my gravestone, depicting a stool with an x through it. Well, at least she achieved her no-stool badge. I digress.

I fumble with attaching the camera to the tripod. My arms are still sleeping. I blink like a butterfly flapping its wings, trying to clear the sleep from my eyes. I squint to read the manual, and Pinterest directions to set up the shot. I tighten the last knob on the tripod. A cloud swoops in and covers the moon.

I laugh, “ Oh Murphy, you kill me. You and your law, always sticking it to the hopeful. ” I shrug my shoulders. ” Oh well, at least I’m set up for tomorrow night. ” FYI, body cells divide in approximately 24 hours.

Hey, that’s life, give it a shot, and if it doesn’t work out, give it another go. There is always a second chance, never forget, there wouldn’t be any rainbows without any clouds. Look at it this way— lets say you plan a trip, and the end goal is to be home on a certain date. If you only focus on the end goal, why should you leave at all? The fun is in the journey. I’m not sure what that means for a prostate exams. But be adventurous. You know what they say. Don’t sweat the small stuff, which is a great saying, unless you’re a little man with a big loud truck.

So, let’s go people! Have fun, play safe, and never give up.

Go Oilers. Go!

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