sashaying around the neighborhood

On the days that I work late I play early morning tennis and then either go to water aerobics or take the golden lovelies for a walk. Today my tennis friend cancelled and I totally embraced the moment.  I lounged in my fluffy blue robe.  Robert secured me a cup of coffee which I drank with unbridled glee.  I read what felt like a zillion books and blogs and listened to enough Disney music to worry about diabetes.  After a couple hours of this I started to get the stare from the golden lovelies. They knew it was a beautiful day, windy and the in the 60's, perfect weather for sashaying around the neighborhood.  So we took a glorious walk, checked out all their favorite smell spots and spied on the workers at the remodel.

It is my staunch belief that every time a camel cricket invades my personal space it erases roughly six months of my life.  Thankfully there are mornings like the one I had today that give me back those six months and then some.  It was a very relaxing morning.  

When I got to work I was a little bummed by how caught up we were and how quiet the building was. Don't get me wrong - these are the ideal ingredients for a happy day of playing catch-up on reviews, lists and crazy fun projects for the local writers committee I'm on.  However, it appeared that I was pretty much caught up on everything.  And I was bursting with Disney music-induced energy, which would have gotten so many things done.  

So I received the afternoon holds, which is fancy talk for checking in the items that our patrons requested from elsewhere.  An hour went by without a single patron interaction.  I started putting the holds away, and a few minutes into this the bell at the front desk dinged so loudly it flew through the air.  As I walked over the patron was very shakily picking the bell up off the floor.   It looked as if it scared the bejeezus out of her too.  But even after the bell was on the desk again she was still staring intently at the floor when she mumbled that she needed help at the computer.  As I followed her to the PC I silently hummed Colors of the Wind to soothe my bell-shattered nerves and bolster the patience I knew I would need to help her.

Once we made it to the PC she asked me how to attach a picture.  I asked her where the picture was.  She told me that she hadn't taken it yet.  I paused before I asked what she needed a picture of and she pointed to herself and looked away.  I asked if she had a phone and when she held up her flip phone I asked if her it had email capabilities.  She said no so I told her we could take a picture with my phone and I would email it to her.  She said ok and I asked her where she wanted to take the picture.  She pointed to a wall with a tapestry and said maybe there.  Once we got there however she shook her head no and said that it wasn't going to work.  She pointed to another spot in the library, and after we wandered over to it, she studied the wall intensely before shaking her head no.  

We wandered around to a few more spots before she suggested that we go outside.  Because it was slow and the floor was covered I agreed but secretly wondered if it was part of an elaborate kidnapping scheme.  On the way out she spoke a little, and her long pauses between phrases reminded me of a telegram: 

I'm successful stop 

I raised two kids stop 

they're in college stop 

but I'm autistic stop 

and I can't meet people stop 

the picture is for an autistic dating site end  

With her face intently staring at the ground it felt as if she was talking to herself rather than to me.  Once outside she walked straight to a nearby tree and said, this is it.  I took the picture and once we made it back to the computer, showed her how to crop and attach it.  I wasn't sure if she was pleased until she looked up for the first time during the whole interaction, briefly glanced at my face and said thank you.