On Sunday, Aaron and I went down to Monroe, LA. for a church meeting. We got lost and were 45 minutes late (to a 2 hour meeting). After the meeting we went to a park with some people from church and had a picnic. I ate pasta salad, a roast beef sandwich Aaron made (he made his own, really good bread!), and caffein-free coke. I haven't had coke in years.
After I ate I got on the swing. I love swings. It was a bit awkward because one of the kids from my church happens to go to my school. I was wearing a skirt, so I had to tuck it under my legs all funny and couldn't pump my legs. Instead, I had to use my arms - that was the most exercise I've had in months. Aaron brought me a cookie and held it out for me to take a bite while I swung by. Tragically, he didn't hold onto the cookie and it fell down into the bark dust. It was a waste of a perfectly good cookie.
I love swings.
It reminded me of riding the "Screaming Eagle" ride back home at this rinky-dink little amusement park in Portland. For some reason the feeling of flying through the air, plunging towards the ground, and spinning out of control is very comforting to me. Maybe this, in some strange way, is why I purposefully seek out the hardest jobs that I will suck at - there's something inside of me that is comforted by almost crashing into the ground at 100 mph.
On our way home we pulled over and picked some cotton. Arkansas has the biggest cotton fields ever. There were a couple little hills and from the top of them you could see cotton balls forever. I wondered how many pairs of jeans that field could make. Once we got back to the car I had to stick the cotton into a ziplock bag because it had freaky bugs climbing out of it. The cotton balls are in time out in the back seat of the car until they've learned their lesson.
