I am an indoor girl. I’m just going to come out and say it. I’m not an outdoor girl. Outdoors is where all the bugs and snakes and skunks and wolverines live. Dirt and mud and ragweed are outdoors. All of your major wars are held outdoors. Natural disasters: they all start outdoors. Tsunamis are just the ocean’s way of trying to get indoors because they realize how much being outdoors sucks (OK I stole that last one from my niece) but the point is, I don’t like being outdoors. Outdoors is what connects all my indoors and when they build the global interconnecting corridor system you will never see me outdoors again. Whew. I feel better.
All of that having been said, today I had a lovely lunch at a friend’s house and this friend is most definitely an outdoor girl. Outdoor Girl likes being outdoors so much that she spends a lot of time doing yardwork so she has an excuse to be outdoors. (Shudder) As a result, Outdoor Girl has a lovely, well-kept garden and a lovely well-kept yard and a lovely, well-kept deck on which we had our lovely, well-made lunch. So far so good. In fact the setting was so serene and put me in such a good mood that I mistakenly thought that perhaps I might be an outdoor girl at heart too.
It was in this frame of mind that I drove jauntily home (yes, that’s a thing), bounded up my stairs, grabbed my Kindle, my cellphone and a glass of iced tea and headed out onto my deck. Now, since I am Indoor Girl and Hubby is I-Guess-I-Have-To-Mow-The-Lawn-Once-In -A-While-Because-Indoor-Girl-Won’t Guy, our yard and deck and garden look nothing like Outdoor Girl’s. We have uneven patches of alternating green and yellow grass interspersed with patches of dirt, a weathered wooden fence spray painted with black circles in one area that Hubby insists is art but I’m pretty sure he just wanted to see if the spray can still had paint, multiple faded plastic toys that my son doesn’t use anymore and we don’t know how to get rid of them, the rotating seat of an office chair that my kids have turned into some kind of a poor man’s carnival ride, some stained resin chairs, a wobbly resin table that my son colored with permanent marker when he was two, the world’s first propane grill and a topsy-turvy that contains a dangling brown vine that I’m almost certain used to be green beans.
This was not the calming outdoor oasis I had in mind. Still it was a beautiful cloudless temperate day. I persevered. I slipped my cell phone into my pocket, set my iced tea on the side table (read: top of a leaky cooler) turned on my Kindle and proceeded to settle into the least stained resin chair………and felt my cell phone slip out of my pocket, behind the chair and through the tiny gap between the deck and the wall of the house. Of course it was unreachable by any simple means and I couldn’t pull the lattice work off the side of the deck to get in to where I could see the phone.
I did, by means of a long handled broom, manage to maneuver the cell phone into a position where I could crawl under a small opening that I was eventually able to pry into the latticework and, on hands and knees, crawl into the Depths of Hell to bring my phone out again. In the process I sheared off a nail, scratched a knee and was bitten on the foot by an insect of unknown origin. I think my foot is starting to swell.
I took Mother Nature’s warning to heart and went back inside, exchanged my iced tea for chilled wine and headed straight for my computer to share my cautionary tale lest any of you Indoor Girls get any fancy, out door ideas.