Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Friday, June 29, 2012

Bravery for the 'Faint' of Heart


Which are you?
I just read that, when faced with something dire, a person will fight.
Or a person will fly.
Sometimes, we don't know which one we are until the climactic moment.
Allow me to illustrate.
My bedroom was across and down the hall from the bathroom.
And I wasn't an 'early-to-bedder'.
These two facts will become relevant . . .
I had been reading.
Something I did every night.
For a very long time.
I finally decided it was time to get ready for bed.
Which included brushing and scrubbing.
And all things hygienic.
I should point out that all other members of my household had long been asleep.
Or so I thought.
I finished my evening ablutions. (Oooh! Good word!)
And, clutching my toiletries bag, headed for my bedroom.
Now the words 'across and down the hall' may sound like a long distance.
It wasn't.
But it was enough.
And it was dark.
I darted toward my door.
And was just reaching for the doorknob when a voice came out of the darkness.
“What are you doing!”
Okay, it was the voice of my father, so it shouldn't have given me the fright it did.
But the fact remains – I was frightened.
And then, the ultimate response.
Fight?
Or fly.
Let me describe:
Pitch dark hall.
Household asleep.
Girl with large imagination and small intellect dashing across the hall.
Quickly, so as to avoid things that might come out of the darkness and 'get her'.
Voice rumbles out of said darkness.
What does girl do?
Fight?
Fly?
No. 
Girl crumples to the floor.
I am not making this up.
My legs folded up and I fell to the floor.
When faced with a crisis, or so I thought, I curled up.
Like a little spider.
But with less legs.
So, which are you?
Fight?
Or fly?
When you decide, let me know.
I will be the shivering little puddle of goo.
Curled up on the floor.
Sigh.

14 comments:

  1. Oh I'm a runner..definitely a runner. And a screamer.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I wish I could say I'd be right behind you. But I'd be on the floor. Shivering.

      Delete
  2. I am a fighter now... purely because I had to, to be a survivor... I think before I used to fly... it didn't help me much, so I am glad I changed :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. a bit of both..but mostly..i fly :) hello from Tami@gretelcreations..i just came across your blog <3

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi, Tami! Thanks for stopping by! As one who is neither, I admire you! :)

      Delete
  4. Stand my ground and face it head on. I'm a lousy flee-er. Never could run.

    But--this story doesn't quite square with cow and horse duty. I think you went down from lack of sleep.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I really, really like your suggestion. Lack of sleep can wobbled the strongest knees. I'm going with that . . .

      Delete
  5. Similar scenario, I was a tween (I think). My mom appeared, floating in her white nightie. Ok, she wasn't floating, but I wasn't focusing. i screamed, waking the entire house up, and dove across the hall into the bathroom. I ended up on the bathroom floor. while still in the air, I realized it was my mom.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Bwahahahahahaha! Love it! That would have scared the snoo out of me! I wouldn't have even made it to the bathroom. (The whole 'falling to the floor and shivering' scenario . . .)

      Delete
  6. Bahahaha! You suffered from 'Fainting Goat Syndrome'?

    In all seriousness, I'm a stalker: I drop to my hands and knees and stalk toward something till I know what it is.

    Don't ask how I found this out...

    ReplyDelete
  7. Replies
    1. You and Delores. Sigh. Why can't I be like you . . .?

      Delete

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