Seems like only two days ago, I was making things disappear. Now I am a multi-talented performer, with a diversified repertoire.
The winds kicked up again on Thursday, my errand day. I made sure to park T-Hoe so the wind would blow the door OPEN, and not the direction where that heavy driver's door could slam on my legs before I could get then inside the driver's cockpit.
Getting gas was okay. The wind whips heavy off the old lead mine, the flats of tailings which offer little resistance. The bank was problematic. Still no drive-thru service. The building did not block the wind as I expected.
Mrs. HM had to multitask. She held herself upright, though it meant stopping with strong gusts, to prevent face-planting on the concrete. I made it to the ramp. Got my left hand on the metal rail. But the building did nothing to block the force of the wind. YO! BUILDING! What's up with that? The wind hitting me from my right switched to pushing me from my back.
I held onto my withdrawal slip. Clutched it in my right hand with a death grip. And upon returning to T-Hoe, I also held onto my cash in a bank envelope. No way could I have chased it if the wind stole my money.
My lovely lady-mullet swirled about my head on both the entrance and exit trips. The shadow on the pavement was reminiscent of Medusa illustrations in my mythology book.
You are welcome, denizens of Hillmomba, for the free circus.
2 comments:
That's the sort of wind that blows you back two steps for every step forward. My younger daughter and I experienced one like that many years ago when battling our way from a fresh food market to a bus stop, longest road crossing ever!.
I'm wondering why you didn't have your withdrawal slip and then your cash in your pocket? Surely it would be safer?
River,
I was afraid they would blow out of my pocket, the way the wind was whipping my shirt around. My pants pockets aren't deep enough to put them in without folding, and it's easier for them to work their way out as I walk, when they're folded. I trusted my grip more.
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