You'd Think I'd Have This Whole Gravity Thing Figured Out By Now

I turned seventeen-and-a-half on Friday. I have been walking on the earth for seventeen-and-a-half years.

You'd think I'd have this whole gravity thing figured out by now.

It is the law, after all.

But no, I do not. As previously mentioned, I took a little tumble on Sunday. The story goes like this:

As I headed down the stairs toward my Sunday School room, I saw a little boy racing towards me. In order to avoid colliding with him, a scooted over, right off the stairs. Down I went, head over heals, swiftly approaching the bottom. My only thought as I bumped and banged along was to stop myself before I reached the bottom and the lady holding her baby who stood there.

I stopped just in time, only to discover that the entire boy's teen Sunday School class had seen me.  The Sunday Schoolers stood there, aghast, as I started to stand up.

"I'm fine," I laughed at myself as I rose. And then I saw my leg. It was red.

I know, you're on the edge of your seats.

As it turned out, I had just banged up my knees and legs. A few moments and about a hundred feet of gauze later, I was back in my class, good as new.

And then yesterday happened. As I ran with my mother along our city's wonderful Swamp Rabbit trail, I thought about how glad I was that my leg was healing and that I'd only really banged up one knee. As these thoughts escaped my brain, I started to tumble.

I was down again. For the second time in one week, I had fallen. I was on my back in the middle of the trail, and  I now have matching knees. I have not had so many band-aids since I was probably seven.

Somehow, though, it's not as cute on a seventeen-and-a-half year old.

We'll Have to Save the Funniness for Later

You all will have to wait just a little longer for a brilliant post.

The reason: I fell down the stairs on Sunday. While my parents were off celebrating my dad's 50th birthday, I fell down the stairs at church. I didn't really hurt anything except my pride, but combine soreness and a little autumn cold, and you have a very unfunny Margaret.

I'll be back, though.

And I'll watch where I'm going next time:)

A Second Chance for Ross

As in the store Ross. Not a person named Ross. Just wanted to clarify.

Let me begin by stating that I absolutely could not stand Ross for the following seven reasons:

1. The majority of clothes are on the floor.

2. The few clothes that happen to till be on a hanger are in the wrong section.

3. The size on the hanger does not correspond with the size on the garment.

4. There is only one employee.

5. That employee is going through a midlife crisis.

6. That employee isn't thrilled to be at the Ross, either, so

7. When you finally get to the register they seem put out with you. I mean, come on, why would you be shopping at their store?

However, today my dear friend Carly decided to change all that. She invited me to go shopping with her, and she loves Ross. And for good reason. Almost every time I ask her where she got her cute outfit, she says "Ross."

So today I decided to give it a shot, too.

Aside from the fact that the security tag on a dress I was trying on started beeping while I was wearing it forcing me to wear the dress up to the counter to get the tag removed, it was a great experience. I bought several things I had been looking for and for amazing prices.

And, to top it all off, all of the employees were great. Very helpful. One of them was even a graduate of my high school! It's a small, small world.

I wasn't crazy about setting foot in the store, but today proved me so wrong.

My Ross trip was well worth it. The lesson of today is, don't give up on retail. Or anything, for that matter.

Creative People

I am surrounded by creativity. Everywhere I look, everywhere I turn, people are being inspired and inspiring.

Exhibit A: My family. My father is an actor, designer, director, artist. I have never known anyone else to set Shakespeare's As You Like It in the 70s and perform it all summer, just because he loves to make people laugh. But that's only one side. The maternal side of my parental unit is just as creative. Mama is an author, editor, song writer.

I might add that this is a wonderful assset when writing papers.

Exhibit B: The Indie Craft Parade. I could go on and on. Indie Craft is a fesitval of creativity and brilliance that our town has held for the last three years. Lots of artsy people come together in a big old mill building and sell their wares. I just love it. They have anything from jewelry to pottery to skirts to stationary to jeans to party favors to patches to bowties.

Basically fabulousness upon fabulousness upon fabulousness.

My friend described it as the real life Anthropologie. Different and trend-setting without the mass production.

I helped my dear friends at Illyia Pottery witht their booth, talking with customers, re-stocking the table, checking people out. It seems like I met every artistic person in Greenville.

And I ate a gluten free cheese biscuit.

It was a fabulous day.

I Was Made to Run in the Rain

An epic story of courage, determination, and the choices one makes.
By Margaret

Today I chose to run. I set out from my house in the heat of this summer afternoon. I was headed no where. I was determined to complete my assigned mileage. As soon as I stepped out my front door, I regreted that decision. Sticky sweat poured down my back, and my face was brighter than the stop signs I passed along my route. The sweltering Southern humity beat upon me until I cried for mercy.

Then came the mercy.

Halfway along my second loop I felt a change. Slight at first. The trees began to sway. The sky's blue added shades of gray.

Ahhh. A cool summer breeze. Relief.

Before I could fully appreciate the new condition in which I found myself, the clouds broke open, and a torrent of rain fell upon me. I began to race toward home.

Home.

"What am I doing?" I thought. "This is not where I belong."

Rain is not a time for running. It is a time for flannel and Kindle books and tea. Why am I here? Why am I sprinting from tree to tree, pausing briefly under swaying foliage to catch my breath? Why did I ever leave home?

I shouldn't leave home. I should wait beside my window always, waiting for the first droplets to hit the glass, waiting to jump into my jammies and take a nap. I will never miss another rainy summer afternoon. I will never run. I will swell up like a balloon. I will not fit into my jeans. I will lose all metabolism.

Wait. What am I saying?

No jeans? No metabolism?

Nevermind. I guess the loss of those lazy days is worth it.

Where are my tennies? I must find them, you know.

I was made to run in the rain.

Look! A New Gadget!

I know I missed a day. Again. But I'll be back tomorrow!

In the mean time, check out the spiffy new gadget at the bottom of my blog. I made a list of all the blogs I follow and draw inspiration from. They are all really cool, and they are part of the reason I started this blog.

I would also like to extend a special welcome to the world of blogging to my father and his new theater blog, Yorick & Co.

Welcome, Pops!