My brother in law, Bill, said, “We had a party at work yesterday and people were doing the Griddy. It’s a football thing.”
His demonstration reminded me how much fun we have dancing together, although it’s been awhile.
“It must be named after gridiron”, I said as I step-chugged in my work boots. Although I’d never heard of the Griddy Dance, the movement felt familiar.
It’s what I do my when I dance too long in the kitchen and need to catch my breath.
“Nah, it’s the guys name.” He replied. “What is a gridiron anyway?”
“It’s an old term for football” I declared, feigning wisdom.
That’s another thing I enjoy doing with Bill.
“No, it’s the metal posts at the end of the field that look like this.” My sister, Dee said, standing proudly with her arms up and elbows bent.
“What do you think Chad?”
Our brother mumbled something about markers and lines.
“No, you’re all wrong according to Google.” Bill sounded pleased.
“Actually we were all really close to being right. What do you expect from three Smith kids who grew up eating and breathing football?” I interjected.
“Wait? Did we?” Dee asked.
“Obviously not” I replied. “I just always wanted to say that.”
We had gathered on New Year’s Day to take a walk up the new logging road behind Dee and Bill’s house.
“Twenty years ago the forester said we’d be able to pay for the girl’s college from the sale of the timber. More like 2 semesters of text books.”
Bill groused and then continued,
“I think we should start compiling family lore, let’s start with you Chad.”
“Okay, here we go” Chad groaned. (This sort of random change in the conversation is not uncommon by any of us.)
“How long did you live at the Hotel Carter?” Dee asked.
Before he could answer, she continued, gaining speed.
“One review said it was the filthiest hotel in NYC. Another said the bar was like the scene in Star Wars, all kinds of riffraff and oddballs. Apparently it finally got shut down when people were openly selling crack cocaine in the lobby. When did you live there?”
“It was in the 80’s, only eight months and it wasn’t that bad”, Chad answered patiently. He knows that being patient is the only way that the spotlight will turn on to someone else’s lore.
We had gone about 25 feet up from the landing. The mud was so thick and gummy that I had the sensation of walking in quick sand. It was a little unnerving.
Chad was behind me. “If I pushed you over, you wouldn’t be able to stand up on your own” I announced to him.
I would never do that but it was fun to verbalize the possibility, especially one so threatening.
He didn’t respond…another example of patience.
“We can climb up here, get off the road and find a drier section above.” Of course Bill would suggest bushwhacking straight up the hill, after all, he reached the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro last July.
We plodded around in the muck and mire for a few more seconds and then decided to ignore his suggestion and head back to the house.
Along the way the conversation jumped from one observation to another.
“Look at all the different fungi on this stump.”
“Here’s some major scat.”
“There’s the remnants of the tree house that the girls used exactly once.”
“Is that what they call blow down?”
“There’s so much mud on the bottoms of my boots that I feel like I’m wearing platform shoes.”
“Let’s do this another time when there’s snow and we can find animal tracks.”
When we got back to the house I said,
“You know where the telephone line crosses your driveway? An owl flew over my head like a missile. I even ducked a bit.”
“Wait. When? Today?” Dee asked. “That is so great, it’s like a sign!”
Actually this was the fourth owl sighting I’d had in two months.
Owls can symbolize mysticism, intuition, and wisdom; however, what’s more remarkable are some of their physical traits. The ability to sit quietly, high on a branch, moving its head 270 degrees so that it’s large eyes can detect movement, even in the dark of night, and ears capable of hearing mice creeping deep in the grass or snow, is all quite something. However, eating its prey whole and then regurgitating pellets of fur and bones is quite naturally magical.
Observing nature reminds us to observe ourselves.
Can we trust our gut, get rid of what we don’t need, learn from our surroundings, be efficient, know when to move quietly and when to make a lot of noise?
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about the owl when you first got here” Dee said, a bit surprised.
“I got sidetracked, giddy with the Griddy” I answered.
Alexandra Langstaff 