Monarch!

In which I have a misadventure or two . . . but live happily ever after, and count my blessings, in spite of it all.

First, let me tell you that this is NOT the photo I intended for this day. We had a wonderful misty morning here, with fog thick as pea soup that lingered for hours and hours. And what I had hoped for was to get some marvelous misty shots at Millbrook. For mist and Millbrook go together like peanut butter and jelly, or tea and crumpets, or whatever your favorite pairing might be. (For me, why is it always about food?)

But alas, that was not to be. For, silly girl that I am, on this morning, I locked my car keys and everything else but my camera and camera bag in the car at Millbrook Marsh, and spent the time I might have hoped to spend with my camera, plus quite a bit more, trying to fix things to get back to where I started. Isn't that life?

So that was how my day began. And to add to my day's excitement, I split my pants on my way to an afternoon meeting. Fortunately, I had a jacket in the car, and I went back and got it and wrapped it around myself, so that I might finish out my work day without giving everybody at the meeting a free show they hadn't counted on seeing. So those were the bookends to my work day. I've had better days, I'll admit it.

But in between, I managed to find 10 minutes to take a few pictures at the Arboretum, and this was the lovely monarch who graced me with her presence. My camera time is dear to me. It forces me to focus outside myself. It calms me down if I'm stressed, and it almost always adds a few (or more!) moments of absolute joy to my day. It boosts my energy, like taking vitamins. Those special moments are the ones I tend to post here and try to share. Did you want a smile? Here's one for you! If monarchs won't make you smile, nothing will, I fear . . .

Did you wonder how I ever got back into my car? For as surely as I am typing this, I did. Well, let me tell you, the road to where you're going often turns out to be a long and winding one indeed. And on this morning, so it was.

First: the context. I do not own a cell phone and have no interest in getting one anytime soon. And on this morning, my husband - newly retired this past June after a terrible car accident in January that might have taken him from me but fortunately didn't - was out backpacking in the wilds of Pennsylvania, enjoying some fantastic, beautiful weather.

It was morning and the fog was amazing. I pulled into the parking lot at the marsh, was so excited by the misty fog that I grabbed my camera and camera bag, leaped out, and slammed the door! It's a thing I've done a thousand times, and probably I should be surprised it hasn't happened before this: but I just KNEW the second the door closed that I was in big trouble. For there sat my car key on the seat inside my totally locked and sealed car.

I searched all through my camera bag, of course, hoping against hope that I had a spare key tucked somewhere inside. Of course I didn't. But it's a thing you have to do: leave no stone unturned, as they say. So I looked. Nothing. The Crittergators were with me, of course, but there wasn't even a single window down far enough for a Crittergator to crawl in to unlock the door, alas. Things were locked up tighter than a drum!

And then I heard an engine, and saw two gentlemen driving by on one of those little maintenance carts. I flagged them down and borrowed the one guy's cell phone to call the police. Well, I am here to tell you that the police no longer intervene in matters of damsels in distress. Or at least not cases where silly girls have carelessly locked their keys in their cars. They suggested I call AAA, a tow truck, or a locksmith.

Instead, I remembered that I had a spare car key at home, and so my problem would be solved if only I could get to my house and get inside. I thought I also remembered a house key we had stashed in the yard years ago - was it still there? So I phoned a friend/coworker at work, and between us, we arranged for another friend/coworker to come and get me and take me home. In about 15 minutes, that person arrived, and indeed I was mighty grateful!

She drove me to my house outside of town and waited in the drive way while I went and found the right spot and - digging with my fingernails - dug up a spare house key that my husband and I had buried in the yard probably 10 years ago. Hooray! It was wrapped in several plastic bags and had not rusted, thank goodness. So in short order, I was inside the house and pulled the spare key to my car from the hook where it hangs near the garage.

From there, it was simple. Back to Millbrook we went, and I was able to unlock my car quickly and get on with things. I managed to make it to my first meeting of the day . . . a mere two minutes late. Of course I told everybody about my silly little mishap, and we all had a good laugh. Everybody did me the favor of sharing stories of stupid things they had done, or mishaps that had occurred to them. And I felt much, much better.

At the end of the day, I had quite a tale to tell my husband. To be honest, I wasn't sure in the beginning that I would even tell him - or anyone other than the two people who already knew - because I felt so stupid. But in the end, all's well that ends well, and I don't mind telling stories that make me look a little clueless, so there it is. I got home, and my husband was back from the woods waiting for me. I spit the whole story out before I could even get out of the car, lest I lose my nerve.

And so he commiserated with me, and didn't make me feel stupid because he knew I already felt plenty stupid, and we made some plans to do better (that include making sure I have both house AND car keys in my camera bag, since it's apparently the ONE thing that goes with me everywhere).

To be honest, we are both surprised this is the first time this has happened to me in probably 20 years. With all of the leaping in and out of the car that I do, you might guess that locking myself out of my car might happen to me much more often than it has, and possibly with the car running! Oh, and without even knowing what a day I had had, my husband surprised me by bringing home the one treat that would really make me feel better: a tuna hoagie from Bonfatto's in Bellefonte.

So I will conclude this Blip by expressing my gratitude to those who assisted me in my time of need: to the two gents who stopped to help a damsel in distress by lending her a cell phone to call for help and providing kind words and moral support till help arrived, to those two friends/coworkers who heard and heeded my cries of distress and rendered aid, and to my husband, whose idea it was all those years ago that we hide a key in the yard. Oh, and bonus points to my husband for the tuna hoagie that helped restore my good attitude after the various traumas and dramas of my day.

For surely the ONE thing that I realized after a day like this is how lucky, blessed, and happy I am on most days. And how I mostly take it all for granted. And how grateful for I am for my life, and for all of its blessings, and for everything in it. For how do you ever learn how happy you usually are, until you are unhappy? And then how we long just to get back to where we started!

The tune I've chosen to go with this Blip is not a song about a butterfly, but a song about how I felt about this day overall. Somehow, in spite of the mishap with the key and locking myself out of the car, and splitting my pants, I managed to get through my work day and make all of my commitments, including running several meetings where complex issues were discussed.

I did what had to be done, in spite of it all, and I think that says something good about me. If there is a job that must be done, I will get it done, no matter what. After all, the show must go on! The song: Queen, with The Show Must Go On.

P.S. Pretend that your camera bag (with camera in it, of course, and - let's be kind - extra batteries) is the only thing YOU have to get yourself out of a jam. What do you have in YOUR camera bag that could help save your life? What might you WISH you had? It's something to think about . . . and I will too.