I have to move my feet more or post 146..

I played lacrosse tonight with my 35 and older group. Indoors and under the lights. I left the defense stick home tonight. Please don’t tell it that I went to play lacrosse without it. The stick would be heartbroken. Foolishness, yes.  But really, I did play attack again this week. I did not score any goals. I had a few good shots, none went in. My practice on Saturday with DS3 paid off today. I caught everything that was thrown at me. Usually I miss more than half the passes thrown my way. Now that I am catching the ball, I need to move my feet more.

Why do I need to move my feet more? Well simply, when you have the ball in your stick, the defense wants to take the ball away from you. If you move slow or stand still, you are an easy target. If you move slow, the defense might (and does) miss the stick and wallop your hands. That is the issue. My right thumb is throbbing and not want to participate in the typing tonight. I will either get better at attack or got back to defense. I’m not ready to give up yet.  The boys will be home on Wednesday so I have two built-in practice buddies for a few days. DS3, dude, bring your gear home with you!

Here is the funny story from Saturday morning’s turkey delivery. The first basket we are sent out to deliver was put together by one of the clubs on campus. They created the basket, but could not deliver it. So we take the laundry basket full of Thanksgiving goodies and the paperwork and head off to make our delivery. The address, according to the GPS, is about as far south in Scranton as you can go and still be in Scranton. We follow the GPS into city built, low-income housing. From our experience last year, this is typical of the neighborhoods that we are delivering to. The address says 44 xxxx (name redacted) drive. No apartment number.

We found the building easy enough. I went inside, leaving my sun glasses in the car. I was trying to tone down the cop look. When I got inside there were eight appartements, four on each level with two levels. None of the doors had names on them and there was no mailboxes with names either. I started knocking on doors. My favorite thing to do.  Guess what, nobody would come to the door! I finally was able to get three people to answer the door. Only one spoke english. Nobody knew nothing about anything.   I called the number on the paper, it went to voice mail. I was hoping I could hear the phone ring in one of the apartments. I did try calling from both floors.  No luck.

Then the lady I was looking for called back. She was downtown at her father in laws apartment and had told “the lady” yesterday that she would not be at her own apartment on Saturday morning. Saturday morning was the Santa parade in Scranton and she was taking her kids to the parade. We drove back to the center of Scranton to the new address. I pull up, another apartment building. And I still don’t have an apartment number. I called her, she said she would be right down. I had DS2 carry the laundry basket of goodies and I carried the turkey into the lobby and we waited.

After a few minutes a 60 ish black man came to the lobby entrance and asked if we were delivering the Thanksgiving basket. I said yes and he let us into the lobby to wait for his daughter in law to dress the kids and come downstairs. (Funny part coming up, I promise) While we waited I told him about our adventure in the “projects’. He smiled and chuckled when I told him that nobody would answer the door. He said “There was no good going to come from you standing outside an apartment in that neighborhood with a pen and paper in your hand” Then he and I both laughed pretty hard. I think my DS2 though we were crazy. But  the man as right, it was not like I was delivering a check from Publishers Clearinghouse!

Maybe you needed to be there to get the humor. Things worked out in the end, everybody was happy. And I got another story to tell.  Tonight’s picture comes from May 2011. Marywood’s school year had ended. DS2 should have gone home but since he was playing at graduation, he got to stay on campus for a week after most everyone had left. In this picture he has taken the room that his suite mates had lived in and turned it into his own music studio.  Enjoy!

Namaste

Music studio

3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Christina
    Nov 22, 2011 @ 10:52:59

    move your feet – sounds like a plan.

    Reply

  2. john davitt
    Nov 22, 2011 @ 12:34:11

    Nice to see a d-pole get wacked for a change. Nice work on the catching..that ain’t ez when you have somebody on you.

    Reply

  3. sillygoose
    Nov 22, 2011 @ 12:52:28

    nice music studio great job on making the catches! 🙂

    Reply

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