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The last time I was in a parade, I was a teenager wearing an ill-fitting marching band uniform, toting a battered trombone, and hoping that I would remember all the notes to Hang On Sloopy.  At least I think that was what we played.  That or Billy Joel’s I Go To Extremes.  I remember hoping that we wouldn’t play that one too much – it had a lot of rather high notes that made my cheek muscles start hurting after about the fifth or sixth time through.  Though that memory might be leaking over from all those football game halftimes.  The point is, it was a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.

Until a week or so ago, I never seriously thought that I would be part of another parade.  I mean, most years the only exposure to parades I get is tuning in to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade for a little while on Thanksgiving morning.  But then one Thursday while we were at CL, Fitz said that he thought we should have a CL float in a parade.  I thought he was just throwing out ideas, but then he showed up later with the completed float permit to take part in the Columbus St. Patrick’s Day parade.  And then he scheduled a day for people to come out to his arboretum and help build the float (they have floats in most of the local parades, so they’ve got lots of supplies).  And then somehow I was talking plans for constructing a St. Patrick costume for one of our guys to wear (we’re talking felt – lots of felt), and before I knew it, this afternoon I was asking my boss if I could take off work on Thursday the 17th so that I could ride on a float in the Columbus St. Patrick’s Day parade.

You know, I don’t think I’ve done anything quite this, well, nuts since I stopped making movies.  And I mean that in the best possible way.  Life is just more fun when you’re doing the sort of things that make other people stop in their tracks and say, “You’re doing what?!” Granted, riding on a float in a St. Patrick’s Day parade is a little tame compared with, say, talking fourteen friends into being filmed dancing in authentic Indian costumes on the steps of the Dayton Art Institute.  But I think perhaps it’s better to ease back into the crazy.  We wouldn’t want to sprain anything by not warming up properly.

One of the lovely things about this is that it wasn’t my idea.  It was Fitz, all Fitz.  This means I’m not the one who has to go around with that slightly maniacal glint in her eye trying to convince people that it will be fun, really it will, that they should let go and allow themselves to do something a little bit unusual for once.  Nope, this time all I have to do is show up and enjoy myself.  It’s wonderful.

In the rest of my life, we had a rather quiet weekend.  I didn’t have work on Friday, and I was feeling still a bit frazzled and tired from the weekend before.  So I made it my goal on Friday to not leave the house for any reason.  I’m proud to say that I realized my goal.  It got to be a near thing close to dinner time.  I realized that I needed more caffeine, I didn’t want any more coffee, and I knew that I probably ought to go grocery shopping.  But then it occurred to me that if I ordered pizza, they would bring caffeine-containing drinks along with it right to my door.  And so they did.  It was great.

Saturday morning I got up bright and early to head out to the First Saturday Women’s Group, meeting in a little town about an hour north.  Sweetness and some other Dayton-transplants had started it a while back, but I’d never managed to make it (that whole hour drive thing).  I’m really glad I made it this time.  Mass was great, breakfast together was awesome, and it was so, so good to see Sweetness again.

As soon as I got home I was out the door again, this time to meet ‘Sup Doc to give her a knitting lesson.  She’s been wanting something she can do with her hands during meetings, and I told her that having knitting or crochet to work on ups my BS tolerance level exponentially.  A little while back she purchased her first pair of knitting needles and a skein of yarn, and we made an appointment for her lesson.  I taught her the knitted cast-on (which she liked so much I’m afraid that her first scarf is going to be rather wide), and by the time we wrapped things up she had a good inch of a simple garter-stitch scarf done.

Sunday was a planning brunch over at the Family Homestead.  My schedule for the months of April and May is filling up rapidly.  I think I’m going to have to get a little ruthless about my time in order to finish all the projects that need to be done by the end of May.  I honestly don’t know how everything is going to get done.  All I know is that after the Weddingpalooza is over, I get to go blues dancing in Chicago.  And it will be good.  It better be.

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