I Found Gramma in a Box of Triscuits?

I Found Gramma in a Box of Triscuits!!

Today, I bought a box of Triscuits…. And Found Gramma!

I Know that sounds really weird… 

And I can’t deny it. Yup, it’s weird.

Would it be even weirder if I told you my Gramma has been dead for a very long time?

Ok, SO it Really is not THAT Creepy. It actually is quite happy!

I’ll Explain… well, TRY To Explain anyhow!

So, it seems daily I find another food I cannot eat due to my allergies. Often the foods I have eaten my whole life suddenly are off-limits, and I am constantly forced to give up the most basic of life’s little guilty pleasures.

Cheez-its are one of my all-time favorite snack crackers. I have eaten them my whole life. Then they came out with all those wonderful flavors of sooo many delightful kinds of cheeses in their crackers. Oooh, I was in heaven! Anyone who knows me would not doubt I LOVE Cheese! And then to have my favorite cracker have a dozen new flavors… Oh, it was wonderful! WAS. Imagine suddenly not ever being able to eat a Cheezit again. This happened to me this spring. After consuming a portion of Cheezits (I don’t recall which flavor, but it does not matter), I got that all-too-familiar feeling that I ate something I should not have. The only thing I had eaten was the Cheezits, so I looked at the ingredients. Yup, has Palm Oil. Grumble, Growl, Snort! Look again in disbelief… Yup, There it is.

Palm Oil is one of many items I am allergic to. In recent years, many food manufacturers have switched to using Palm (or Coconut) Oil, instead of the Sunflower or Soybean Oils. I am told the reason for this is purely cost-motivated. Palm and Coconut oils are cheap, so the companies can make more profit. So even products I have always been safe in eating suddenly become poison to me. This was the case with my beloved Cheezits. (and before anyone starts suggesting I look in the “Natural”, or “health food” Stores… Think about that for a second… Those stores Use MORE Coconut Products than others do! Those stores are like ticking product-bombs just waiting to jump out and poison me!

I was in disbelief as I read the label, because I knew… I ABSOLUTELY KNEW There was no Palm Oil in my beloved Cheezits. But there it was… and even without reading the label, I could FEEL it poisoning my blood and brain. But regardless, it was there in nice, clear print. So I naturally did what anyone would do… I grabbed a different box of Cheezits from the cupboard (I normally had no less than 6-boxes on hand at all times.) And I found exactly what I knew I would: That box had NO Palm Oil. But several of the others did. It was clear… they were in the process of changing their ingredients, and I had one box that was older than the rest.

Never mind the way the allergic reaction was making me feel, react, and behave. I was (trying to be)more focused on the thought of “Might I find a store that still has pallets of the Old Cheezits?” Hmm… How can I find All the old ones, and possibly buy ‘em all up, so I can keep enjoying Cheezits forever? But of course that would not work on my budget. In fact, I had already spent my snack budget… and it was quickly dawning on me that I had a cupboard full of snacks that I could not eat…  and even more depressing, I was realizing that I likely would never find any Cheezits on the store shelves that still were the old recipe. I looked through some of the other snack I had in the cupboard, and found similar scenarios. For example, The box of “Scooby Snacks” I had just bought had Palm Oil in it, but the one I had bought two weeks prior did not.

Wait, You think you just read something about Scooby Snacks? Yes, You read that right. “Scooby Snacks”… here, look….

….Yup! They are shaped like dog-biscuits, but are delicious and deceptively tasty as human snacks! A hint of cinnamon in a Graham Cracker. Fun to just put in a bowl, without the package and see if people will eat a dog-snack!

But I was sad, because the more snacks I looked at, the more I found Palm Oil. This was hard, because in the past three years, I have had the same story with Ice Cream. So, now I was not able to enjoy my beloved ice cream, it seemed also, my beloved snacks were to be off limits, too! (and Muffins, too!)

I bagged up all the snacks in my home that Now had Palm Oil and donated them to a worthy home. It was sad to have to say goodbye, but they went to a home that could love them… and where I would not be tormented by them in my sight.

The next time I went to the store, I spent at least an hour in the cracker aisle, looking for any crackers that did not have palm oil. I found some, but of course they were not varieties I liked, or worse, they were the Extremely expensive brands… The ones where you feel you should at least be wearing something fancy if you are going to consume them. Ugh. Here I go again… something I never had to give any thought to, now will poison me if I am not careful.

The hardest part is the few without palm oil are the ones I can’t enjoy. So, my snack cupboard remains an empty space… very symbolic.

Every now and then, I find a random cracker brand, or flavor that looks promising, and I buy it. Each time, I am disappointed. There was a reason I chose Cheezits as my favorite for my whole life… and none others will fill that void.

Today, I was pleasantly surprised to find a new Triscuit Cracker. It was called Triscuit Thins, and Was Cheese Flavored, too! I had not had a Triscuit in so many years I cannot recall when it was I last had one.  I have never disliked Triscuits, just never got excited about them. Also the fact that they are in the higher-priced range of crackers, plus you get a teeny-tiny box for that high price, I have not ever gone to buy them. But today, with the discovery of This one with Cheese… And No Palm Oil, I bought the box!

I’ll bet you are still wondering how any of this connects to my dead Gramma, right? I’m getting’ to that! Be patient… hehe.

When I got home from the store, as usual, I like to snack while putting the groceries away. And Often, I will choose to snack on The new item I have brought home, excited to try this new discovery. So, I opened the box of Triscuits. As soon as I opened the box, the long-ago-familiar smell of those Triscuit Crackers hit me. I did not at first connect what I smelled with what my mind was remembering… Until I took that first bite. Oh MY GOD! It’s Gramma! I tasted Gramma!!! I smelled Gramma, and Tasted Gramma!! I was suddenly a kid again in Gramma’s kitchen snacking on Triscuits with her! Now don’t get all weird and think the cracker tasted like Gramma’s flesh, or anything like that. It was at THAT Moment I recalled the last time I had eaten Triscuit Crackers! Triscuits were Gramma’s cracker, like Cheezits were mine.

I Found Gramma in A Box of Triscuits!! My Gramma died long ago, and I have never felt this feeling of “Her” since even many years before she died. I am not even sure when she died, or if she was buried, or cremated… or even where the remains in whatever form were placed. (Not to sound insensitive, but I had said goodbye to Gramma many years before she actually died, and whatever, or wherever I was in my life at the time of her actual death did not make an impact on me in the sense that I needed to mark it on a calendar.) Actually, I bet that last bit makes you think I am really insensitive, huh? I guess you’ll just hafta sit and chat with me about death sometime to fully understand my views, huh? Insensitive, no… different about many of the things we experience, yes.  Her death definitely impacted me… Often in more deep-ways than you might first imagine. I have interesting ways of dealing with death, loss, suffering, and how it affects my life, and how I move forward.

Enough about her death.

Tonight, I found Gramma in a Box of Triscuits!! This was enough of an impact that I immediately turned on the computer and started writing about this. (well, as soon as I put away the groceries, anyhow) I had a huge list of things I wanted to accomplish tonight, since it was the end of my weekend, and this coming week will prove to be more hectic than many of the past have. Also, this week will mark the end of one chapter in my life, and the beginning(s) of many new chapters. The last thing I intended to do was write a blog… until I Found Gramma In a Box of Triscuits.

This Gramma I mention is the one I have written about at least in a dozen different blogs. She was My Mom’s Mom. Technically, she was a “Grandma”, but we called her Gramma. As a kid, I cherished every moment I ever got to spend with her, and I never felt like I did not belong, or that somehow she just tolerated me. She was always a mix of The Country-Club Queen, and The Get-Dirty in the Garden Gal. She was the perfect blend between high-society-social parties, and talking silly using pig-latin at the dinner table kind of lady.  She went easily from pearls and heels, to nudist in the mud. She could set-up The Perfect Formal Dinner in her dining room, and an hour later, transform that same room into a fort made of couch-cushions, sheets, and pillows for us to have sleep-overs in. She was the one who everyone felt safe and comfortable naked around, yet she would be the first to point out the funny lines left by a chair on your butt. How, you might ask do Triscuits fit into all of this? Simple: Triscuits were Gramma’s Cracker. No matter the level of class, or how down n dirty she got, Triscuits were the cracker she had for all to enjoy. She always served cheese with the Triscuits, too. So this box of Cheese-Triscuits I opened and ate tonight, unleashed a flood of memories that I had not felt since at least 33 years ago!!

The last time I remember feeling this was when I was 12. Tonight when I stood in the kitchen eating my Triscuits, I found Gramma in That Box. So, No matter how, or where her remains were placed when she died so long ago, I found where they went… They somehow went to The Nabisco Plant, and found This Box of Triscuits, to come and visit Me! I never imagined I would feel that feeling ever again. Tonight, I was taken back to a world long lost. A world where everything was safe, a world where no matter what was happening, once you were at Gramma’s house, it would all be ok.

Triscuits… Who woulda thunkit? And to think… maybe I am allergic to all my favorites so I would find these Triscuits, and Feel Gramma once again… Everything happens for a reason… Gramma, Thank You for The Triscuits!...

… Now I think I will go built a sheet and couch-cushion fort to sleep in tonight.

Risking Seizure to Watch Trains in Vegas

Walking The Worst mile in Vegas…

…Risking seizure, risking dangerous drivers…

…With the hope of seeing a train, or two:

Enjoying Trains in Vegas is not always easy:

One of my life-long joys is to watch trains. Sure, there are plenty of train-tracks running through Vegas. It would seem all one needs to do is go to the tracks, and watch the trains. Well, in Vegas, it is a bit more complex than that. In Vegas, if you step onto the gravel surrounding the tracks, you Will be arrested and cited for criminal trespass. This is different than in most cities. Sure, it is considered trespassing all over The United States, but very few places actually enforce it, unless you are causing problems. The railroad police in Vegas have a zero-tolerance approach, and vigorously go after anyone they see even set foot on the railroad right of way.

In most places, you can walk the rails, enjoying the miles and miles of pure-escape from the surrounding world. While walking the rails, you will often see a different side of the city, find pure peace, find joy, and have a great way to see every train that comes along. The engineers and crew always wave, smile, and happily allow you to take photos as they go about doing their job. Everywhere, except in Vegas.

Since you cannot go even near the rails in Vegas, you must find the few places where an overpass allows an occasional glimpse of a train that might happen to come along while you are waiting.

I have found a few places where there are grade-level-crossings that I also can linger without actually stepping onto the Rail right-of-way. Sadly, those few crossings seem to not have many trains on a regular basis. I also have found a few places where I can dare to cross the tracks without being harassed (yet!) by the railroad police. But these are limited, and without any place to walk along the tracks, or linger, I seldom get any train-activity.

There is one spot I have found that is an overpass over the rails, and I often do see trains along those tracks. The problem is this overpass is The Noisiest, most-treacherous, non-pedestrian-friendly mile of road in All of Vegas!  But I occasionally choose to go there, despite its down-sides.

Yesterday, I was craving a Five-Guys Burger, so I decided to make it an adventure, and walk across the Worst Mile in Vegas… Hoping I might see a train, or two.

Sure, I can take a bus that stops a block from the Five Guys Burgers. But to get that bus, I need to take another bus just to get to it, then wait almost an hour for it to arrive. If I am going to wait for an hour, I might as well be walking, finding something to enjoy along the way.

So, I take a bus that requires only one bus, comes every 20-minutes, and is only a block from my home to start the journey. This bus drops me off about two-miles from Five Guys. From here, I need to cross the horrible overpass. It is 8 to 10 lanes wide, has multiple freeway ramps, side-street ramps, many “No Pedestrian areas”, and where there is a supposed crosswalk, there is no light to stop the traffic heading for the freeway. Sure, there is a crosswalk, and every responsible driver knows they need to stop for a pedestrian at a crosswalk, right? Ha! Not here. Often I need to wait 5-10 minutes just to cross.

The sidewalks are barely 3-feet wide, not even allowing room for two people to safely pass on the sidewalk. Often the bicyclists will use the sidewalk here, adding to the extreme unsafe nature of it. (Every cyclist knows they must ride in the road, not on the sidewalk, but in Vegas, they seem to think they have right-of-way, and will run-down pedestrians. On many occasions, I will literally ‘knock a Cyclist out’ for not yielding to a pedestrian.) Also for some odd reason, every vehicle which uses this overpass seems to have very loud exhaust. Every vehicle here seems to have enhanced their exhaust sounds, or no muffler at all. It is an extreme test of my ability to not be sent into a seizure form the horrific sounds all around! There is no place else in Vegas where so many rude drivers all gather in one place. For some reason the people driving here also think they must drive radically, recklessly, and forget all the rules of the road. Add to this, that the overpass is crossing a major interstate, and many frontage roads. Often, the only thing preventing a seizure is the distraction in my headphones. I really need to work hard at blocking-out all the seizure-inducing sounds in this one-mile-stretch.

So, with all the horrific hazards, even life-threatening conditions, would I ever dare to cross this overpass? Simple: Trains… or the possibility of feeling, seeing and enjoying such a wonderful creation. If you have never allowed yourself the pure joy of feeling a train go by, then you would never understand. To me, the feel, the sound, the sight of a train is unmatched by any other of man’s creations. The Only thing that is better is Nature… God’s creations. So, That is why I risk my life on occasion.

When I left home yesterday, I knew without a doubt, that I would see trains this day. I knew I was in a great place mentally, so I could handle the idiots of the overpass. I knew I was in the right place to not have a seizure from the sounds. Let the adventure begin!

The views are always fun, despite the traffic.

A rare moment when there

is an opening in the traffic.

The Overpass...

Nothing but concrete and noise

Sometimes, Vegas Seems so small from here...

Even Sunrise Mountain looks small from here.

The massiveness of this concrete area is so overwhelming.

Even though it is fenced, The lure of The Tracks is wonderful!

Miles and Miles of tracks... Untouchable by humans on foot in Vegas.

It really is cool how Tiny Vegas appears from here.

A Lonely signal light

See how easy it is to get lost in the lure of the tracks?

I can feel and hear the rumble of

the train waiting below this

overpass.

I cannot see it, But there is a train below

this bridge, waiting for another train

to pass before it joins the main line.

Loco Duck is Happy to find some trains

Here Comes the train on The main line!!

Loco Duck catches the Locomotive as it goes!

Ooh! Smile!! :)

So Much Joy!

See? Ya forget about the traffic!

Can ya count 'em as they go by?

One White tanker.

The End...

A rare moment... I stepped into the road to take a picture

of where I walked-up from.

Here Comes the Second train!

Enjoy the calm while it lasts!

Enjoy the escape from what's going on in life

The fence actually helped frame this one! :)

There it goes...

Already miles down the track... But so much joy!

Now to continue down the other side of this overpass.

Time for Five Guys Burgers!

Dance (Naked) In The Rain

Dance (Naked)in the Rain

We feel we are somehow in control of our world.

We make plans for our lives.

We all have things we want to do, people we want to see, and places we want to be.

We set times for which we will do each of these things.

Then something happens, and we suddenly feel as if our plans were ruined.

Every human on this Earth has experienced this. But what do we do when our plans suddenly get interrupted, altered, or changed?

We get indignant, are offended, hurt, often angry, saddened, or even depressed.

Those plans we made were so very important! Those places we planned to go could not wait! The people we wished to see had to be seen right then!

We tend to forget how tiny we really are in this world. We tend to forget that there are much greater powers that control the universe, time, and every single action we might wish to do during our time on this Earth.

Those powers greater than us could be anything, ranging from any force of physics, any molecular substance, any spiritual being, or any atmospheric condition. Whether we choose to believe these things actually exist, or not, they will continue to always have control over us mere humans. It is how we react, or respond to these forces that then determines how we go further in our lives.

I will not even for a moment pretend I do not fall victim to this same thing. I make plans, and am slapped in the face when I cannot go forward with them. I plan places and times I will go, and often am disappointed when something prevents me from getting to that place. I make plans to see other people, and more often than not, those people will cancel before we can see one another.  

Sure, these things affect me, and send me through various emotions, but usually only for a brief period. I have learned that these things happen for a reason, and I need to accept what has happened, even if I do not understand why it has happened.

I am a firm believer in two things:

~“Everything happens for a reason.”

 ~“There are no coincidences.”

Both of these were taught to me early in life, and only once I realized these, was I able to find the positive, and that something even better will happen all because the plans I had made got “Ruined”.

The two signs at the top of this blog sum this understanding up pretty well.

I Did have some wonderful people in my life as a child that were willing to teach me about life, and how to make the best out of it. I cherished the lessons I was taught. I thrived on the times I could look at the pain, the storm, or the trouble, and instead laugh, dance, and find joy.

A great example is the story about how my sister and I would go and play in the rain as small children. I write extensively about that time of our lives in this blog: http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2011/09/joys-of-naked-as-child-then-lost.html

We learned that when the rain came, we had two choices: Stay inside and mope, or make the best out of it and go play! We continued to live our lives that way… until we moved to Portland, Oregon in 1980. I was twelve. We had grown up in California, and fully knew how to have fun at the beach. Shortly after moving to Oregon, our family headed to the beaches of Oregon. We loaded the bikes, Frisbees, kites, shovels, swimwear, towels, picnic food, and everything you might imagine for a sunny day at the beach. To our dismay, when we arrived at the Oregon beach, it was raining. We planned for a day at the beach like we would have in California. We did not plan for rain. Our entire family, plus a couple friends, we had dragged along, and our dog all sat miserably in our van. We passed the time sadly playing cards, reading books, and just wishing we could go enjoy the beach. Mom even attempted to make a makeshift barbeque under a dripping picnic table so we could cook our hotdogs. The rain blew in sideways, and kept putting the fire out. We went out for little bits to stretch our legs, and to hopefully keep from wanting to kill one another by being all cooped-up all day. Needless to say, we had gotten wet, and miserable, and piled back into the van again. Finally, we went home. We all thought the day was ruined, and could not imagine how anybody in Oregon could enjoy the beach!

That evening, our neighbors asked us how we enjoyed the Oregon Coast. We told them what happened, and they explained the difference between California and Oregon: In California, you plan to get wet from playing in the ocean. In Oregon, you plan to get wet from the rain. They explained how to just plan to get wet, and have an extra set of clothes in the car. They explained how beautiful the Oregon Coast was… but that you enjoyed it while it was raining, not for the sunshine! You go, and get soaked, then change into your warm, dry clothes for the drive home.  Oh, How simple! Somehow, by moving to Oregon, we had forgotten all about remembering to Dance in The Rain.

From that day on, we always had a blast at The Oregon Coast! We learned to share that joy with others, and never again stayed inside when it rained.

Sometimes, it seems we forget some of the best lessons as we age. Then we find ourselves hiding from the rain again, thinking our plans have been ruined. We are stubborn creatures. We seem to easily forget the joys, love, and fun that can be found when the storm comes and changes our plans. Then, after we get depressed, angry, and feel our lives are not going well, we are reminded once again how to Dance In The Rain!

I seem to be running into many storms in my life lately. I am not as slow at remembering to find the joy, but I still find myself getting upset, and depressed easily when the storm comes. Also, for some reason, there is one particular story weighing heavily on my heart lately. That story is one that happened when I lived in Medford, in the spring of 2003.

I lived in an apartment complex where I also worked as a maintenance man, and an assistant manager. I had to be cautious about what activities I allowed others to see me doing, since I represented the complex in which I lived. At the time, I was still mostly a closeted nudist. I loved to be naked, but did not dare to do so where others might see me. I would still go naked as often as possible, and often did so when I thought nobody was looking, or nobody would notice. I learned that during the night, I could be naked in my own little backyard, watching the stars, and simply relax. I would often spend hours out there, sitting on my porch swing, eat a midnight snack, or just relax. I also found a couple of places where I could dance in the rain naked when everyone else was inside, hiding from the storm.

 I had some wonderful friends as neighbors, and while occasionally some of them would come in while I was showering, or dressing, I had thought none of them ever saw me outside naked. I also had never brought the topic up, since I was still terrified of the reactions that might come from such a “forbidden” topic. I was slowly coming to accept my own nakedness, but not yet willing to be open about it.

One of those wonderful friends was Janelle. She lived a few doors away, and on the second floor. (I lived on the ground floor). She had a three year old daughter. Shortly after I started working there, Janelle’s entire bathroom had to be torn up and replaced. The plumbing from her shower, and her toilet were both leaking into the apartment below. She would be without her bathroom for three days. The office offered to give her a key to the not-so-private club-house bathroom in the rec-room. She was not thrilled about this, nor the idea of having to cross the complex every time she or her daughter needed to use the bathroom. I offered her my bathroom, since I was just a couple doors down, and it was far more comfortable and private than the clubhouse. She gladly accepted, and had access to the bathroom anytime she wished. Janelle and I became close friends, and often spent time together on the evenings, and weekends. One Sunday afternoon, she came over and asked If they could hang out, because they were going stir-crazy cooped up inside for the past several days. It had been raining for several days. It was late in May, so was no longer cold outside, but it was still a gloomy day. I had some other commitments for a couple of hours, and was about to head-out. Janelle and her daughter looked sad, and asked if I had any ideas for breaking the cabin fever.

Since it had been raining for days, there were plenty of large puddles. (The parking lot drains were always slow, and they formed giant lakes.) I suggested that they play in the puddles. Janelle’ s daughter loved the idea, but Janelle insisted she did not have any old clothes that could get dirty. (Parking lot puddles create stains in clothes.) I laughed, and told them they did not need clothes for playing in the rain. Janelle laughed nervously, and said “No way my daughter’s going naked in public!”

I told her the story of how my sister and I would play in the rain naked as kids. Mom always let us strip to our underwear, then have us put on our rain boots, and raincoats. Then off we would go stomping through the gutters, and puddles. It did not take long for us to be soaked inside the coats, and our boots were full of water, too! By the time we would be at the playground, out of Mom’s sight, we would strip naked, and play in the rain, all over the park and playground totally naked, and not one person ever cared.  We knew that as long as it was good clean fun, nobody ever cared if they saw somebody naked. This seemed to apply to anytime we were outside. So we always played naked, got soaked, and had a blast! Then once we were thoroughly wet, cold, and had all the fun we could possibly have in a day, we would put our wet underwear inside the coat pockets, then put the coat back on and splash back home. We would strip out in the garage, and Mom would have a hot bath waiting for us, so we would run through the house totally naked and jump into the hot bath. It was always so perfect, and such a joy!

 As I told this to Janelle and her daughter, you could see the child-like sense of joy and freedom enter her mind. Her daughter was eager to play in the puddles. Janelle looked at me, and looked back at her daughter. She could see the look of joy, and desire to go play in the puddles. Her daughter was not at all worried about being naked, but Janelle was a bit unsure. I said I needed to go, but I could offer a T-shirt for her daughter to wear, and it would not matter if it got stained. Janelle grinned, and asked if I had one for her also! We went into my room, and picked out T-shirts for each of them to wear. In no time, Both Janelle and her daughter eagerly stripped to their underwear, and donned a T-shirt of mine. They left their other clothes on my floor, and went out the door with me toward the back parking lot. As I left, they were timidly splashing a bit in the puddles.

I left, smiling, knowing they would soon be feeling the freedom of dancing in the rain. I never gave it another thought, until almost two-hours later when I returned home.  As I came down the street, I noticed through the rain that there appeared to be two people playing in the puddles in front of The Apartment Complex. As I pulled closer, those two people noticed me, and started jumping up and down to get my attention. Through the rainy windshield, I could not see much about who they were, or what they were doing. I of course slowed way down, and rolled down my window to see why they were trying to get my attention. Then I noticed that it was Janelle and her daughter! Janelle was no longer wearing the T-shirt, she was just in her bra and panties, and her daughter was completely naked! The look on their faces told the whole story… They had found the ultimate joy in Dancing Naked in The Rain! I pulled into the driveway next to where they were, and got out. They both ran up and gave me soggy hugs. They were happier than I had ever seen them. They were soaked, shivering, filthy, and full of joy! They were both excitedly talking at once, and there was nothing in the world that could compare to that level of joy! A few other cars came in and out of the driveway, but nobody ever gave them a second glance. Nobody was staring out their windows at them, and nobody cared that they were playing naked in the rain! I was so happy for them, but also knew how cold they were, so I suggested they get inside and jump in a warm bath.

This was my bathroom. It totally looked, and felt like it was outdoors!

They immediately both asked if they could use my bathroom, so they could pretend they were still playing outside. (My bathroom was decorated to feel like it was outdoors, and this was not the first time others had asked to use my bathroom for that reason.) Of course I said they could! They ran to my apartment, and were in the tub before I even got parked!

While they were in the tub, I heated up some soup for them. When they got out of the tub, neither one wanted to put any clothes on.  I gave them each a blanket to wrap up in and we all went out to my porch swing to enjoy the hot soup. Once we were relaxing on the porch swing, Janelle thanked me for helping her to find freedom again. She told me how many people had come and gone while they were in the back parking lot, and how nobody cared what they were, or were not wearing. Several people told her how wonderful it was to see people playing. She told me how wonderful, and free it was, so they forgot all about staying in the back parking lot, and went tromping all over the entire complex. They even ended-up at the playground, and played in the mud back there! She said that is where they stripped completely. They played on the playground completely naked, then decided to go up to the street and play in the flowing gutters. Janelle decided it was best if she put back on her bra and panties…and realized how difficult it is to put on wet, muddy underwear! (Now she knew why my sister and I always just put our soggy underwear in the coat pocket.)

Janelle confessed that she has sat up on her balcony many nights watching me when I thought nobody could see me when I was naked in my yard. My first thought was to be embarrassed, but then it passed in a second, as soon as I realized how safe and comfortable she was. She had seen me naked (other than showering, or dressing) for many months, and never said a word, and she also was not freaked out by it. She told me that there were others in the complex that also watched me while I was naked. That made me kinda nervous, but she assured me that everybody accepted me, and many had mentioned how they wished they could feel so free in life.  

After a while, Janelle decided it was time to go home. Without giving it any thought, both her and her daughter gathered their clothes, got dressed, gave me hugs, and headed to their own door.  I thought it was odd that they so freely ran all over the complex naked, but to go a few doors down, they got dressed. I did not say anything about it, but it made me realize how much we live in habit, and routine, and often forget to just let go, and Dance in the Rain.

The next morning when I started work, and made my rounds of The Complex, I laughed when I got to the playground. The rain had stopped, but the playground told quite a story. There in the mud were both of the T-shirts, and her daughter’s underwear. There also were footprints in the mud, and every inch of the playground equipment was completely coated in muddy handprints, footprints, and smudges from their naked muddy bodies! I hosed it all down before the manager arrived for work. The manager always arrived at 9 am, and I would meet with her to see what reports she had received, or hear about calls, or other issues that needed to be addressed. I was kinda afraid of what report I would hear on this morning, after having been part of encouraging two tenants to go naked in the rain, and them coming and going from my apartment as part of it. To my surprise, not one single tenant said a word to the manager about it! (But the funny thing is there was a tenant who got home from work at two every morning, and always went skinny dipping in the pool. Almost every morning there was a complaint call about her, yet not one single person complained, or said a peep about the two playing in the rain!)

I lost track of Janelle that Fall of 2003, and have not seen or heard from her since. I am not sure why Janelle’s story has been on my heart a lot lately. This story happened almost 8 years ago. I had almost completely forgotten all about it, until a few weeks ago. Yesterday, when a bus passed me by, and changed the plans I had made, I started to get upset, then realized I had not Danced in the Rain enough lately. Today, the two signs I posted at the top of this blog happened to cross my path again. (I had not seen either of these for at least year.) These two signs really reminded me of Janelle’s story. Then a snag in my plans for doing my laundry today totally got changed, and the events that followed made it so I was at my computer writing about Dancing in the Rain.

I am happy that my plans do not always go the way I thought they should. I am happy to allow the powers that are greater than me to gently remind me that I am not in charge of the universe.

Today, I got to “Dance In The Rain”!

Have you Danced (naked) in the Rain Lately?