Tonight's the blue moon, how about that? I wish I could think of something to do right now that would be so out of the ordinary, I could honestly put forward to you that I act like this only "once in a blue moon".
Well, here are three unusual things I've done or have yet to do this weekend. One should qualify, yes?
* Last night, I cleaned my refrigerator. Truly, it's been almost as long as the intervals between blue moons since I did this. But in between blog posts (I was up until 2 a.m. all told), I realized the fridge was half-empty after our week's vacation, and it would be the perfect half-hour to get it done. "You should have used baking soda, not ammonia," my mom told me afterward. But she didn't understand, there were actual chunks on the bottom that would budge for nothing less than a major toxin.
* This evening, I suddenly took it into my head to google a woman from my past who once hurt me very badly. She had married into my family briefly - but the marriage and subsequent separation were so acrimonious, the fallout hit many nearby relatives. Anyway, I was interested for some inexplicable reason to see if she has a blog. It seems she does not. But lo, she has authored two or three books about an excruciatingly specific needlecraft, and is famous within a very very small circle of crafters. Reading the way people gush over her books, I'm a little nauseated. I think, 'If only they knew the real her'. But then that's not fair of me at all, is it? It's been over 20 years; I myself have changed so much, she'd never know me - what makes me believe she's still as evil as I remember her? Still and all, it was a relief to find she lives on the East Coast. Whether she's still bitter and twisted, or newly-minted and happy, I don't have to worry about running into her and finding out.
* Tomorrow, I am going to sing in front of my church. I've never, ever done this before, so this may definitely qualify as the big blue moon activity. It was all the idea of my friend Tracy. We sat together one Sunday and shared a hymnal. It was a wonder to hear the way our voices blended together. Then after service, she turned to me and asked, "Wasn't it a wonder to hear the way our voices blended together?" Next thing I knew, she talked to the music director and we started rehearsing the song "Everything Possible". Bizarre! Who was it that said inexplicable events are dancing lessons from God? Tomorrow, we rhumba.
So! I turn the microphone over to you. Did you, or will you, do anything highly unusual on this Blue Moon weekend?