My life is ever Seinfeldian. Let me prove it to you, and for those of you who have never watched an episode of Seinfeld, ever, I think you may still enjoy the following:
ACT I. The Speed-Dial. Scene opens with Nance answering her cell phone. On the other end is her mother, St. Patsy, who is visiting her sister Shirley in Gettysburg.
Nance: Hi, Mom. I hear you're ready to come home already.
St. Patsy: Hi, Nance. You're number four on my speed-dial.
Nance: What? Okay, but what, now? Number four? How am I all the way down at number four?
St. Patsy: Well, Voicemail is number one. Then Bobby (my brother, with whom she lives) is number two. Coley (Bobby's daughter; Coley is a nickname--don't ask.) is number three, and you're number four.
Nance: What the heck! How is Coley ahead of me? When the heck do you ever call her? For anything? How does she rate the number three spot? I don't get this at all.
St. Patsy: Well, you're ahead of Patti. She's number five, and Susan at number six. So, it's Bobby, Coley, Nance, Patti, Susan. Maybe it's alphabetical order. I don't know. But you're number four.
Nance: Oh, brother. Well, maybe the next time you need a ride to the doctor or to Gettysburg, you should call Good Old Number Three, then. See if Coley can haul your ass all over the place. How about that? Why did you call in the first place? Just to taunt me with your Speed Dial Hierarchy?
St. Patsy: No. I wanted to tell you that Shirley and Dick are bringing me home, so you don't have to drive to Gettysburg after all. Isn't that nice?
Nance: Yes. For Coley.
ACT II. The Squirrel. Scene opens with Nance walking outside to take out the trash and recyclables. She notices a baby squirrel barely moving on her deck. Upon closer inspection, she sees it is badly wounded, bloody, and intermittently covered in flies.
Nance: Oh no! You poor baby! Damn it. Those damn hawks. First my fish and now you. I don't know what I can do for you. Damn it. Damn. Let me go look and see what I can find to help you.
(Leaves to go and look up a wildlife or metroparks rescue number...or something. Shortly after, Rick comes home.)
Nance: (greets Rick in garage) Oh, Rick. It's terrible. I need your help with something.
Rick: What happened? What's wrong?
Nance: Rick, it's this poor baby squirrel. Something got it and it's all chewed up and mangled. We have to help it. I feel so bad.
Rick: Nance. What are you talking about? Like, take it to the vet? I don't want to be on the hook for a huge vet bill and then have to bring home some wild squirrel. I just got home. Where is it?
(Nance shows him the squirrel, who is now barely breathing. Its eyes are glazed, and its body is covered in flies.)
Rick: Nance. This thing is dead. Or practically. There's nothing anyone can do. Look at it. I feel bad, too, but it won't even survive a car ride to a vet. Or anyplace. You have to let it go.
Nance: I called the metropark office number and got a machine. I left a message. There's no place else to call. I feel sick. Rick, you have to do something. We can't let it suffer. (taps out a message to her friend in Maryland, Leanne, who relays it to her husband, Jim; pause) Jim says to use a flat-edge shovel and break its neck. Ugh. That will behead this poor baby! Rick. Do something. I'm not able to.
Rick: Nance, what would you like me to do? I don't want to kill it, either! We just have to let Nature take its course. It's sad, but there it is.
(An hour later, Nance goes out and finds the squirrel dead.)
Scene 2. The next morning, Nance's cell phone rings.
Caller: (brightly) Hi, Nance? This is Amy from the county metroparks returning your call. How is the squirrel?
Summer has been busy. I promise to get back to posting more often as soon as I can. And I owe so many people so many emails and blog comments. Where is my time going? Fun places mostly. Be back soon, and I will try to get back on track!