It's funny how a memory can seem to be etched indelibly on your brain cells_then in time, it seems to just recede into the folds of your "gray matter", as if it never occurred at all. Then one day, a conversation, a phrase, or an incident will resurrect that one particular memory from the depths of your mind. Suddenly, it is as if it (the memory) just happened yesterday, instead of twenty years or so ago. This happened to me recently. About a week or so ago, my son came screaming into the house. He had been stung by a wasp. Amidst the scrambling to find something to alleviate his acute pain and the subsequent reactions (itching and swelling), I sensed a stirring in my memory banks. At first, it was like a blurry picture, trying to come into focus. Slowly, it became clearer and clearer, until I could see the colors, and almost smell the scents of that long ago day. I would like to share it with you, if I may (before it goes away again!).

I can see the bright summer sky; it is so blue, it almost hurts my eyes to look at its beauty. The crepe myrtles are blooming, and I can smell the roses in my mother's back yard. The dirt road which runs past the house is still, except for the occasional cloud of dust which stirs, each time a vehicle goes by, on their way to or from U.S.#1 (about 1/2 mile from our front yard).

I am doing laundry on this day. I pick up the basket, heavy with wet clothes, and start out to the clothesline. I breathe in the clean smell of the just washed clothing, and think of how nice it will smell after an afternoon in the sunshine. I go out the back door, where there are concrete blocks set up as temporary steps. They wobble just a little as I walk down, carrying the laundry. As I go across the yard to the clothesline, I am feeling cool and collected, even in the warm weather. I am wearing my favorite sundress. A two tone green vertical stripe, sleeveless, edged in pretty crochet. It is of thin cool cotton. I feel so "summery"! As I reach the clothesline, I bend over to set down my basket and that is when IT happens. I feel a searing sting in my "gluteus maximus".

Suddenly, my Indian blood rises up within me, as I sound out a "war cry" (well actually, it is just a cry of pain mingled with outrage). My Mother (had she actually seen this) would have been horrified at what I did next. With no regard for any traffic that might be coming our way, I yanked up my skirt and checked for any more attackers that might be lurking in the folds of my dress. In the midst of this, I think I was also doing a "war dance". All thoughts of having fresh, clean laundry were gone. I left the basket sitting underneath the line and went on a "search and destroy" mission (i.e. find the little bugger that stung me and send him to perdition!). As I retraced my steps to the house, I discovered the culprit. It was a wasp, who had built a nest in one of the holes in one of the cement blocks at the back doorsteps. I realized I probably jostled the block with my weight and the weight of the wet clothing I was carrying as I was on my way out to hang the clothes. I understood the reason the little guy had "popped" me, but he had to pay. So I muttered as I went in, "I'll teach you to fly up my skirt and pop me"! I quickly became a temporary exterminator. With some twisted newspaper and a strike of the match, he paid for his crime.

As I resumed my task at hand (hanging out the wash), I wondered if there was a moral to this event.....ummmm..... maybe if a day seems completely perfect, watch out, someone or something may sting you into a different realization.