I sense that I'm one of 10 people in the world who got into a canoe accident this weekend. Seriously. Have you ever seen how slowly those things go? Nonetheless my husband managed to steer me into a hanging branch, and not a small one. (In his defense, we were at a wind-y place and he hasn't been in a canoe for a couple of years. There was a little bit too much velocity happening as he executed the turn. Also, I suppose, I could have ducked. Or so they tell me.)
My extremely pricey (IMO) sunglasses, which I treat with such care, were flung from my head, along with my hat (but into the boat rather than the water, thankfully) after being scratched to shit by said branch. I'm of the opinion that the glasses saved my eye. Others think I may have merely saved myself a scratched cornea. Either way, that would not have been a good scene. The branch bounced of the glasses, while it tossed them, and grazed the side of my face instead.
Oh, and then the heavens opened and I spent an hour canoeing in the relentless, pouring, miserable, cold, disgusting rain from which I could not flee. I was fit to be tied.
At any rate, this is my second canoe experience this summer (after a hiatus of many years, and I'm no "girl with a canoe") and I can't figure out which one was worse. In NC, I went on the New River, apparently the second oldest river in the world, and a 4-hour trip ended up taking 6 hours as the water was 6 inches deep in most spots and littered with jutting rocks. Also, extreme natural beauty aside, we had to somehow get around the water-hogs in inner-tubes who were drinking beer and very rudely staying in the middle of everything, despite not really needing water just to sit there and get drunk. That was the trip where I learned about how exercise can truly be an act of desperation. I knew I was never going to get out of that fucking river if I didn't paddle.
This weekend's experience taught me something concrete about my nature: I am very attached to my things. Sure, not all things. (Lord knows, I give away sweaters like they're growing on trees.) And, sure, I cling to some things more than others. But I was so angry about the destruction of my glasses. The combo of my love of beautiful objets (that also manage to be entirely practical and useful) with my hatred of disorder and waste, well, it brought out my less-than-endearing side. Of course, my friends worked to calm me, weirdly, by suggesting that I need a frame, slightly more a la mode. Smart. That's about the only thing that stopped me from complete anger-wallow. The option to self-improve.
So I'm off to Spectacle to buy a new pair. (Re: Light sensitivity these days, I cannot be without my wrecked up current glasses until new glasses are ready, whereupon I'll get the current ones fixed so as never to be in this situation again.) If only this weren't about to cost a boat load of money... (hahahaha, get it?)