Cretans

So somehow the dinner table conversation tonight turned to how driving habits differ greatly from country to country. And my husband, helpful as ever, told the boys to "ask mom about driving in Greece" which of course they did, and which of course is another post entirely. In brief, since they certainly didn't need all the details, I told them how I'd been hit by an angry Cretan while driving in Crete. Elliot's eyes got all big and he asked, with all sincerity: "Did you die?"

Oh how that child brightens my day.

PS I must really post my Grecian memoir, but whenever I go back to my writings (sent out in about 10 email segments, way back before blogger), which at the time I thought were oh, so witty, I feel compelled to edit, because, it really needs a lot of work.

PPS I'm also considering transcribing all my missionary letters and journals and perhaps providing excerpts here, but that is another daunting task that I may feel compelled to edit. Why is that?

PPSS Why you ask? I think it hearkens back to my prepubescence--my first journal ever contained epic songs of devotion to Michael Jackson--stickers, dots, hearts and all the angst of a young girl head over heels in love with a young pop star. When I found that journal a couple years later (and I had matured to a large poster of George Michael, shirtless, on the back of my bedroom door) I was mortified and compelled to destroy every last page of childhood devotion. To this day, I wish I'd kept that journal. I think I would have found great humor and grand opportunity for self-degradation in it's pages.

PPPSSS Some times I pull out my other teenage and young adult journals and poetry book and reminisce my adolescent angst, imagining what life might have been had I chosen a different path (like perhaps, the life of a solitary poetess). The horrid and deeply felt poetry of unrequited teenage love still brings tears to my eyes. I felt shallow things sooo deeply back then. Perhaps I'll publish the poetry collection under the title of "Songs of the Fat-Girl, unrequited love of the young and obese". Hey, that's kinda catchy. I'd buy it.

PPPPPSSSSS Where was I? Oh yeah, damn Cretans.