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Breaking the law, breaking the law

September 2nd, 2008 (07:07 pm)

current mood: NOT guilty

I've already started working on my final collection for LJ's Runway Monday. I don't want to be stuck doing a bunch of stuff at the last minute, disliking it all and viciously stabbing myself with needles. I'd rather spread the needle stabbing over a long time--take a more zen approach to the pain.

I called Lynne a bit ago to ask, "Any advice on putting in sleeves?" Her answer reminded me why I never enjoyed or developed the ability to sew. Too many steps! Too much patience! I'm an "I want it done NOW" person when it comes to this kind of stuff. I don't understand why I can be a patient teacher and a patient writer, but in most other respects, the most impatient of people.

Speaking of Lynne... In our early teen years, my mother often said that Lynne was a bad influence on me. Actually, I was just a typical, surly adolescent, but since I was my mother's surly adolescent, my bad behavior was clearly SOMEONE'S fault other than my own (or hers), and Lynne was the designee.

At least this was what I always thought when Lynne and I laughed about our terrible teens. Recent events have led me to wonder if my mother might not have been right. After Lynne flew into Birmingham the day before my mother's memorial service, she rented a car and drove into her (and sometimes, my) hometown the more meandering back way. She wasn't in a hurry, and she wanted to see the place where her daddy had worked all his life. Without naming towns and businesses--to protect the guilty--Lynne got a terrible shock when she drove by this place that looms so large in her memories only to find it torn down.

I knew she was upset, so I asked if there was anything left of the building: a bit of rubble or something. Upon finding out that some bricks remained, I was game for a late-night bit of trespassing. (I like to drive the getaway car.) This is when Lynne reverted to what can only be called her Wicked Influence and devised a "bonding experience" for my nephews.

My nephew Daniel is around twenty years older than his brother Aaron, so it's not like they got to be bad boys together the way Lynne and I got to be bad girls together. Lynne suggested to the two of them, and to Daniel's son Dave (who's actually five months older than his Uncle Aaron) that they accompany us on our "adventure." Dave flaked out and fell asleep. Then Lynne took orders from some of us for fast food, and a few people slipped out the door while I was busy doing something--probably knitting blankets for the homeless or reading to the blind or something.

What I found out is that

Lynne plus Tom

when mixed with:

Daniel and Aaron

leads to my being LEFT BEHIND, and only AFTER their return from the fence-climbing, barbed-wire avoiding, under cover of darkness BREAKING THE LAW, did I get to whip out my camera and get a shot of the evidence:

Come to think of it, maybe it's my mad skillz as an eager photographer that made them leave me behind. It's like they learned something from all those Darwin Award winners who take photos of themselves committing criminal acts.

To add insult to injury, I had to drive the stolen goods all the way back to Texas, where they still sit in my car.

Wait. What I meant to say is, I never saw those bricks before in my life, and as my mother, Daniel, and Aaron could tell you, It's Lynne's fault!. And probably Tom's.


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