Isn’t My Dance Card Full Yet

There was a time that ladies carried a small booklet when they attended a dance. It was a time of gentility and decorum. When a gentleman wanted to claim a dance with a certain female, he would ask to sign the book and wait his turn to dance with her. I’m sure that if the lady didn’t want to dance with the man, she would find delicate ways of refusing.

Each week when I look at my schedule, I think, “That doesn’t look too bad” and each week my dance card miraculously becomes full. I only had on my schedule my appointment to have my car inspected and Everdry Company to check out a damp patch of concrete in my basement. Although expensive, they curtailed water entering my basement. There was also the choice to volunteer or not at the Chestnut Ridge Historical Society on Wednesday and Saturday.

Because of my MRI of my right bicep, I called for an appointment with my orthopedist. I was surprised that they got me in on Wednesday morning, but off I went. Finished with that, I stopped for a few groceries and hustled to the Historical Society. A surprise waited for me there. I was volunteered to be the corresponding secretary, although I refused to shave my legs. A library sent a book written by a radio operator from WW II whose plane was shot down over France. It was an autobiography in French and English. He was a local resident and I was asked to write a letter to a daughter to see if she wanted to review the document. While reading newspaper articles on the radio operator, one article popped up onto my computer screen and refuses to be dismissed. I called my computer repair guy and he squeezed me in for Saturday morning before I have to hustle to Chestnut Ridge. I get to be docent for the day.

After I came home, I worked on the letter before eating my evening meal and hurrying off to Prayer meeting. Thursday was free, or so I thought. I’d ordered another cord of firewood and they delivered. She and a friend helped to stack some of it.

Friday, I’m expecting Everdry to evaluate the damp spot. I am supposed to attend a writers meeting in the afternoon, but I may have to skip that. I almost forgot, the friend who delivered the firewood invited me to a cookout at her place after church. I can hardly wait to see what surprises await next week.