by Nellie Curtiss …
“Don’t count me out yet!” That’s what I think to myself when someone learns I’m retired and don’t have time constraints except for appointments for dog grooming, overseeing a colony of community cats, column scribbling or blogging, and health care! I think of it like I’m coasting along on the decades of teaching I’ve done, like water skiers moving with the wake of the boat ahead of them.
As is often the case with the retired, I crumpled up the handmade quilt, sheets and body pillow all night long. Sometimes in the wee hours, I emerged from an orange tabby on my side to check news on Facebook or visit the bathroom; sometimes to open the front door for Schroeder to walk about or to pour water into his water pan. (The back yard was out of bounds since skunks and racoons had been digging around lately.)
Memorial Day celebrations like Float the Rio Grande, and Acoustic Bluegrass Jam were advertised early in the paper. On the weekend, I watched online editions of PBS NewsHour or CBS Evening News.
When I woke from an afternoon nap around 2:30, I was shocked into the moment and realized I had to hustle to get to the groomer’s, Esther Sowards in Manassa. I didn’t have time to freshen up like I had planned.
I was able to download some pictures from Facebook, however, to share with my cousin. (I hang out with her while my dog is groomed.) I double checked my purse for my wallet, epi pen, and rescue inhaler, then collected my dog’s half chewed leash and closed the door behind me. Before I walked away, I tested the door handle and pushed on the door to make sure it was locked. “Solid. Locked. Good to go,” I thought.
The northern Rio Grande windstorm sanded my zippy Chevy as I traveled east on the highway. At moments along the drive, I wondered why sacred classics was on NPR on Monday, Memorial Day since they normally air on Sunday. I just supposed KRZA had revamped its schedule.
In Alamosa, I stopped for some cash to pay my groomer and noticed the drive-up lane wasn’t opened. I guessed they had Memorial Day off. Passing the Alamosa County Public Health and the Mental Health Center, I noticed their empty parking lots, as well. “That’s it. They all have the day off. Good for them. “
As I neared Esther’s place, I noticed the time was 4 PM already.I quickly called Esther, so she knew where I was.
“I’m almost there Esther!”
“You are?” she said, and added, “Its Sunday. I don’t groom on Sunday.”
Laughing out loud, I said, “Well, I guess I’ll go see Edna then and see you tomorrow.”
We were both laughing as I turned back toward La Jara and spilled the beans to Edna. “Every once in a while I’m early but never 24 hours early!”
It just shows me to beware of the wake in a time warp!
Nelda Curtiss is a retired college educator and long-time local columnist. Reach her at http://www.columnsbynellie.com or email her at columnsbynellie@gmail.com
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