Sassin'

This afternoon I was trying to finish reading the book I've been reading the past couple of days, called The Help, loaned to me by a woman from church.  I noticed immediately that it was set in Mississippi in the 1960's,  which felt very close to home.  (my place, my time). And it is indeed authentic, eerily so!  The story is mostly told from the point of view of the black maid who takes care of the white woman's house and children.(we didn't have that kind of help).  The narration is also told in the "voice" of the negro maid.  If I had been listening, instead of reading, I would have answered in the dialect of my native language (southern).  One lapses back into it, unconsciously.

Gerry kept talking to me.  He said he was getting older.  I asked him how he knew.  He came home earlier than he would have, because he was tired.  He also talked about a fellow geezer who had fallen, broken ribs, and probably would not be coming back.   I then lit into Gerry with a 'tongue lashing' about how if that happens to him he needs to be prepared for a life that is not lived entirely on the slopes!  I said I wasn't going to put up with him being miserable!.   {I realized that I was actually 'sassing' just like the maid in the book, talking back;  I wondered if he noticed my southern accent??}.

My 'sassing' actually came from a previous time, after a major surgery, when Gerry suffered from depression due to being physically inactive.  Of course, pain played a significant part as well.  It was so terrible to see, that I never want to see it again!  That's where my tirade was coming from!  I'm sure he understood that.

He assures me that when he can no longer ski, he'll knit!  That's very comforting.  Apparently that really is something he learned how to do as a lad, and enjoyed.  It's nice to have a plan B,  but it is certainly not one I hope to see put into effect!