Wednesday, July 10, 2024

The Extraordinary In The Ordinary

By cheryloreglia on July 10, 2024

That's Where I'm Sitting Today

The world is a place where the extraordinary can sit just beside the ordinary with the thinnest of boundaries. Jodi Picoult

I have always believed that the world is full of mystery and mystique, but like the Wizard of Oz, I tend to hide behind the fabric of my life, moving all the right levers but often missing the real thing. You know what I mean? Like a stranger's smile, the branches of a majestic tree, or a lazy tabby cat lounging in the sun—when the ordinary takes on a miraculous glow all its own.

With the exception of my knee, of course.

As usual, my timing is perfect. Two weeks before RAGBRAI, my right knee decides to give me trouble. It might have something to do with pickleball, a rather aggressive volley, or that unfortunate backspin I made a lung for—my poor knee. Then I walked three miles with the ladies one hot, sticky morning, and now I'm limping.

If that's not enough, I've suddenly developed back fat, like overnight. It appeared right after my birthday, or maybe a few years ago, and now, every time I walk past a mirror, I feel this overwhelming urge to tuck my excess flesh into my bra. It's futile, as if a squeeze ball, it keeps reassuming its original shape.

And to make matters worse, I can no longer tolerate the heat. I think my brain might be overheating, and now I'm not firing on all cylinders. Don't get all judgy. I can still do Wordle, make a decent cup of coffee, and grab my Amazon packages off the front porch. Winning.

If I were being honest, I would also admit I don't know what to write about this week. It has been a big week. I'm struggling with where to begin, what to make of it all, and how it should end.

It feels as if my entire life suddenly lacks significance, deep intellectual interpretation, and substantial relevance. See, for me, derailments come in threes.

Did I mention the heat?

My daughter Kelley flew into town to celebrate Independence Day last week. It was a full house at the lake, just how I like it, and, of course, Tim (Kelley's husband) made a surprise appearance. He actually "surprises" us every year, so it's not so much a surprise, as a when will he show up sort of thing.

I have to say, on our first night, we did enjoy an extraordinary seafood boil with Jim and Sue's clan. My son-in-law Nic boiled up some crab, shrimp, muscles, corn, sausage, potatoes, etc., in a massive pot, sitting on an intense burner on the beach. He threw in a lot of spice and a little magic, and when it was ready, we poured it onto a plastic-covered picnic table.

I know, so Bohemian. We even ate with our hands. Jim and Sue brought some ridiculously good garlic bread to soak up the juice and the memories.

There really are no words, but here's a video.

Okay, now that I'm reminiscing, I remember another magical moment. It's like my fingers get on a roll, and the memories just keep rolling in.

Early one morning, the kids were squirrelly, and the adults acted like zombies after a week of late nights, too much rich food, adult beverages, and intense sun. It's been over 105 degrees almost every day as if God is doing a human boil, and you just can't keep your sense of humor when your flesh is being cooked.

Anyway, the children were bouncing off the walls, clearly bored, and I'd only had one cup of coffee. I suggested we head to the swim dock and jump in the cool water. My suggestion was met with overwhelming approval from the children and corresponding adults.

The thing is the swim dock is completely shaded at that time of the morning—who knew? I sat on a beach towel in the cool breeze, sipping coffee and watching the girls jump, dive, and cannonball into the lake. It was one of those moments where the extraordinary sits beside the ordinary with the thinnest of boundaries.

Alright, now that I'm thinking about it, there were many extraordinary moments this weekend. For example, at our annual Independence celebration with all our family and friends. It was a well-attended event, and I kept stepping back from all the action to observe several heart-warming interactions.

Like when my granddaughter sat down by the water's edge learning to skip rocks with her great-grandfather or listening to the laughter and sweet stories being shared, but especially when the sun was setting, and our DJ Dante lit up the deck with colorful lights and a fog machine while blasting a fabulous playlist. The dock was rocking after Lizzie, Marta, and I started enticing all the kids with our very cool dance moves, just saying.

Then there was the annual pickleball tournament which is highly anticipated every year. Everyone who wants to play just has to find a partner, and let Jim know. Then he creates this very official-looking chart with all the teams represented, game schedules, and a grid that notes the teams who are advancing.

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A post shared by Kiki Bontemps 🫣 (@thefablifeofkiki)

We cheer each other on, we get a little competitive, we argue over the rules. This year, we had 10 teams vying for the enviable trophy. Last year, Connor and Sonya won the entire event; this year, Connor and Sonya recaptured the title and the trophy.

Do you detect a trend or talent?

It's not as if this is an Olympic event, but Jim and Sue took the silver, with Marta and Ken taking the bronze.

Then there was this adorable moment when Audrey and I finished our morning movie, The Lake House, with Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves. We were snuggled in bed like we are every morning, but after the movie, Audrey and I looked at each other. We were completely baffled.

SPOILER ALERT: I TOTALLY GIVE AWAY THE ENDING OF THE LAKE HOUSE. SKIP PAST THE DIALOGUE BELOW IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE MOVIE YET.

I said to Audrey, "Let's review what we know. I'm sure we can figure it out."

She says, "Well, obviously, he didn't die."

"She saved him."

"With the note?"

"Yes, the note. He got it just in time and didn't walk in front of a bus and die in her arms."

"What did he do for two years while he was waiting for her?"

"That's another mystery."

"And why don't they ever talk about the mailbox?"

"I was thinking the same thing. It delivers mail to people who live in two different time zones, but no one ever talks about how strange that is."

"The whole movie should have been about the mailbox."

"I totally agree."

"What happened to the dog?"

"He probably got left behind."

"And her other boyfriend?"

"He definitely got left behind."

She laughs, "Tomorrow, I pick the movie."

Sidenote: We watched Mama Mia, definitely more interesting, and the music was sensational.

Audrey and I have this routine, most likely because the house is overcrowded this weekend, and she's sleeping on the roll-away bed in our room. Every morning, as soon as Larry gets up and quietly leaves our room, she jumps into our bed and demands my full attention.

I know. Is there anything more delightful? I adore my mornings with Audrey. We love watching movies, lounging in bed, and having Nono bring us waffles. It's a delicious time, and I'm well aware there will come a day when hanging out with Grammie is no longer cool.

But today, I'm counting my blessings and savoring every second.

There were exceptional dinners, the annual 4th of July neighborhood parade, and lots of tubing, skiing, and swimming, but my favorite might be lingering on the deck when the temperature finally cools off enough to breathe.

All good things must to come to an end, but if you have a blog, you get to relive the memories twice.

We're back home, back to our training schedule and regular routines, but I suppose there is always something to write about when exploring the magic and majesty of life. The thing is, we have to be attentive to the extraordinary in the ordinary, even if we have to squint as if the sun is too bright, because what we're searching for, we will find.

Maybe this is heaven on Earth—because I'm standing in the doorway of life, and someone just threw me an Amazon package with an accommodating sports bra, as if blessings of the deep that coucheth beneath. And let's not forget the glory of coffee, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever will be, cappuccino without end. Then there's the voice of an angel named Luke belting out, "Hey, I'm a little drunk on you and high on summertime." And after this, we watcheth a film that made us wonder. And lo, when it was all said and done, miracles don't happen to us, but rather, they are something we notice, like rain. And after all these things are said and done, we realize it is not about grand gestures or sweeping ideas—It's the regular stuff, hiding in the ordinary, like blessings from the womb that leap into life.