As it is Wednesday I volunteered at the Cleveland Museum of art this morning. My job was to sit at the security desk by the loading dock and keep an eye on things. The only problem was that there very little to keep ones eye on as it was very quiet. I checked in three people and then I check the same three people out. A good volunteer must remind themselves that it isn't how busy you are, it is that one shows up and gladness in heart for the job that is assigned to you. Remember that.
I met with the director who handles school tours and we discussed a very full Wednesday coming up. Next week I shall be awash in fresh students from public schools who are making their first trip here. So we will have to review basic rules about using our "museum voices" and how not to touch the Monet's, Cezanne's and the Rembrandt's.
Do any of you give of yourselves to local orgainzations? I hope so. There is nothing sadder than those who wallow in the self-masturbatory practice of buying things to make one happy in life.
Service to mankind is important in a lifetime. Like spending a year in Europe after high school, public service helps to smooth the rough edges of your personality. You will never be fondly remembered for the money that you have in the bank, but your service to your fellow man (in the global sense) will always pay forward to someone else.
In other news, the cicadas have been terribly loud today. The area around our house is filled with their song, and it is giving me a splitting headache. While I loathe the idea that we are a mere six weeks from a killing freeze, where these bugs are concerned, I'll be very happy when they are dead and gone.
And, oh, before I forget, I spoke with my sister, Katherine Hobbs Reynolds, in Washington DC and she said that yesterday was all very overblown.
"There was shaking and then there was no shaking; that was our day, " said she.
I didn't feel a thing, while Edwin did. I feel as if I missed out on one of nature's moments, but what can you do?
I think a nice cat nap is in order,
I remain,
Mrs. Edwin Smith Standish
Madame
ReplyDeleteIn answer to your question:
I did give of myself for a period of time when I was in my early twenties to a motorcycle club, and you are quite right, there was absolutely no masturbation during that seventeen months. Now, a couple times a year, I bake cookies for a charity that places destitute yet gifted high school students with mentors that will help them along with their studies & careers.
Like you, with the earthquake, I felt nothing. Then today I found out that the two people that were observing me while it was happening, were wondering why I appeared unruffled. To this I replied, "When I walk my feet don't touch the earth.".
Perhaps it is the same for you Madame.
So relieved to her of your sister's soundness.
Yours
Count me amongst the cicada lovers.
ReplyDeleteTo me they're singing "Summer! Summer! Summer!"
I have a friend who can't tell the difference between a cicada sound and a cricket sound. Obviously they're completely different!
But that just goes to show you how we all take in the sounds around us differently.
Unfortunately, yours results in a headache.
May I offer you a cold compress?