Friday, February 3, 2012

That's a Mezzuzah, Not a Bill Holder.

We live waaaaaaaay out in the country.  So far out in the boondocks that at night the stars look like they're actually on the horizon, and you don't have to squint to see them.  You may get skunked while taking a midnight pee in the yard (my husband did), but otherwise you could feel like you're in Night of the Comet... except for the 80's hair... anymore...

Apparently, though, we do not live far enough out to prevent the Jehovah's Witness boys from knocking on our door. This isn't like taking an elevator to 11-C, ringing a bell, and delivering some Moo Goo Gai Pan for a three dollar tip.  These boys have to walk and walk and walk... or bike... whatever... then they TRESPASS (yes, we have "no trespassing" signs, but they may just be to keep jealous hunters off our fertile land)... and for what???

They walk because they are devoted, to say the least.  Or maybe they just have no where to go, being all dressed up and everything, so they look for events to crash.  No, I think it's the latter. Or, as I find out later, it might be my husband's lemonade because he likes to offer them refreshing drinks and chat about God.  Did I mention my husband is an angel?  More on that later... can't talk about angels or they may send me away...

I, on the other hand, get annoyed when they come around.  The dogs start barking (actually every dog on the road starts barking),  I have to make sure I'm "decent" before I see who trekked up our driveway ('cause I didn't hear a car)... more than not, I do have to add some sort of item of clothing to my homebody self, and I get aggravated that I have to be rude and say "no thanks".  I mean, DID YOU NOT SEE THE MEZZUZAH?  Maybe the fuel delivery people think it's a bill holder, but true religious zealots should know.

So how is what they do different from what I am doing right now for our Avon Breast Cancer Walk team?  Aside from walking AFTER the soliciting, how is asking for support for Winston Cups: Hope & Diamonds any different from walking one's feet off to bring you an important message from our sponsor?  In just 90 days, my sister and I will dress alike (probably something pink and blingy instead of starched and white). We will carry a message of HOPE. We will drink lemonade squeezed from the lemons of strangers (or mixed by fellow lovers of Countrytime). And we will walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk to deliver that message.  And hopefully, someone's life will be saved because of it.

I may have just opened a Pandora's Box, but my point is this...  when life hands you lemons, make lemonade slushies.  Add little umbrellas!  Use decorative glasses!  Just don't count on the Jehovah's Witness guys to bring the rum.  Or egg rolls.

Can I offer you some tomato sauce?
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