In case you've been wondering, I sent the check to WOMR. A friend of mine who works at the station asked me for a pledge and since I'd been meaning to send a check anyway, I pledged. I dutifully sent off my pledge check with a little note about what the additional amount was for and I'm sure they thanked me in a way that involved lots of ampersands, asterixes (asteri?) and exclamation points because I just know a non-profit organization loves getting money for an event they've already closed the books on. I can imagine them banging their heads on their desks, asking
are we? (bang)
to do? (bang)
with this?(bang, bang)
NOW?! (complete nervous colapse)
But they were nice and sent me a thank you note which did not drip of sarcasm. They also sent a WOMR bumper sticker which I have maybe always coveted but cannot use because I'm posing as a vacation renter, see? And the local radio station bumper sticker would give me away.
We had a picture-perfect vacation scene just the other morning, as a matter of fact. When we found ourselves awake at an absurd hour of Saturday morning, we decided to go to the farmer's market. Lucy's been all about riding her squeaky little bike, so she rode it there while Studley and I scampered along behind. We had a nice visit (watermelons are not ready yet, fingerling potatoes make life worth living) and then headed back with our market baskets brimming with SOMEONE ELSE'S GARDEN PRODUCE. We will discuss the implications of that later.
Can you just picture us? Lucy speeding along up front on her bike, Studley and me moseying along behind. Market baskets laden. We looked like a flipping travel ad. You can imagine my delight when Lucy wanted to take the long way home, past the rental house. So we go along, looking all J-Crew-catalog-summer-living-issue, and wouldn't you know? There's no one at the rental house.
If a vacationer does something fabulous and no one sees, is it still fabulous?