Life Is A Beautiful Mess, isn't it?
Life Is A Beautiful Mess, isn’t it?

I have an alert for everyone.

Here it is: It is even easier to slip on mud than it is on ice. It’s true!  I have done both and mud is more slippery than ice. Maybe my slip was payback.  After I tell you the whole story, maybe you’ll understand why I say that.

I visited my son this weekend down in Phoenix and decided I would hit a local restored Western village on the way home as it is just a few miles out of my way. The last time I went there there was a Boy Scout event going on and Boy Scouts running amok and photography do not go together very well.  Today I had the place almost to myself as we had much needed rain here in AZ and the village was actually closed due to weather.  But the gates were open…and I saw another woman in there taking pics.  That was all I needed to see and it gave me the misguided feeling that while the buildings were closed, the outdoor area was open.  But honestly, I just hoped that more than felt it. There are few things that I do which generally do not fall within my own standards of rule following….1. entering places which I maybe should not just to take a “few” images and 2. eating raw cookie dough. There might be one or two others but selective memory has me believing that is IT, those 2 things. So, I quickly scampered about taking images, hoping that the other woman had gotten confirmation that it was okay to be there. I saw a worker there and he just nodded to me so it HAD to be okay, right? I did a quick loop around, missing half of the buildings and then started back to my car.  But music in one of the buildings called me into it and it turned out to be a cowboy worship service, with a cowgirl guitarist singing the praises of the Lord. RIGHT as I peered in they broke for a bit to shake hands, hug and kiss and about 20 people were both surprised and happy to see a new face. My face.  They hugged me and shook my hand, wished me peace and good stuff and then tried to get me to sit up front with them. “No, no, thank you, I’ll sit back here”.  They were so very nice and friendly but I just was not prepared for that whole experience. I sat for a bit and then made my escape. I was not escaping them per se but just the feeling that I had gotten myself into something I was not expecting. Plus, I had plans to meet a friend for lunch here in Prescott and knew I had to get on the road.

Well, on my way out I walked over a normal looking sidewalk which was wet and had silty-type mud on top and …….BAM, I went down quicker than a flash in a pan. It was like one of those experiences that takes you out of reality for a second or two.  Like, what just happened??? Well, I was covered in mud from my neck to my toes (mostly on my back side. That is 2 separate words, BTW). My handbag was covered in mud, my shoes and both my cameras also now brown. I did not get hurt, my cameras appeared fine……so I laughed hysterically for 30 seconds.  I picked myself up and took off my shoes, took off my coat and then covered my car seat with a tarp I have in the back of my car.  When I got home it took me like a whole hour just to do a preliminary cleaning of my muddy articles (Heloise hint: baby wipes work pretty well to clean the outside of your camera body).

At lunch I started feeling pretty sore and I am sure I will be black and blue but hey, no real injuries. I started to think on the way home if maybe I was being punished for leaving service early and trespassing. But that was the old God of my childhood speaking (Roman Catholic guilt) 🙂 not the new one who would be happy to see that I made it to church (even though it was unintentional and I only stayed for 10 minutes). I have to say, I like the new God better.

That is my confession. I’m not sure what the act of contrition is yet. Maybe my black and blues. But life is a beautiful mess sometimes! And the New God understands that.

PS-I may have broken yet another rule:posting 2 pics for the weekly challenge, “Abandoned” but I personally like an abandoned image that shows more of a regular life that used to be (as opposed to say, a business).  A family once lived here, kids played in the front yard, people sat on the porch, meals were eaten. A home


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