By Georgia Osten
I searched back to my Sand Bucket from a year ago just to see what I wrote about this time last year. I’m sorry to say, it made me chuckle out loud. I must still be a bit tired from the weekend. My “bucket” from last year was about the port-a-potties at the Crab Fest. I know, it was an intriguing story, you can do a search on Crystal Beach Local News “Crab Fest 2016”
So this year, strange as it may seem, I need to tell you about praying to St. Anthony, the Saint of all lost things. I’ve got to admit, it works.
Earlier this week, I was working on too many projects. I had checks and Crab Festival applications for vendor spaces spread out on the desk. The next day, I remembered I hadn’t recorded the checks for the Crab Festival and I couldn’t find them – oh my gosh, lost checks!! My friend Sid came in as I was frantically looking for the checks. She said, “let’s pray to St. Anthony.” And she helped me, we prayed together. I tried to remember what else I had been doing yesterday, so I went to the cabinet behind me, and Voila, there it was – checks and applications with the Frog Fest folder. Geez!!
Next, Crab Fest finally happens, it’s Friday night and we’re in the Beer Booth. We have donation buckets strategically placed around the booth for donations to the Bolivar Lions Club. This booth is The Lions Club Booth! Every so often the buckets need to be emptied, they’re brimming to the top. So I stuff the bills into a bag and stuff the bag into my purse over and over again. Mark, I know you’re going to think I made this up, but I swear this is true. Anyway, I get home after midnight Friday and I figure I should hide the bag of crumpled up bills. The next morning, I can’t remember where I hid the money. I look through all my dresser drawers, I look through Tom’s drawers…I’m fretting about it all day Saturday. I’m too embarrassed to say anything to anybody. I’m lost.
Next night, Saturday, I bring home more bags of donations. Praying to St. Anthony, “please let me find the bag of money from Friday night.” I go to the laundry room to wash bar towels and figure I might throw in some more stuff from the dirty clothes basket, and lo and behold, there’s the bag of money!! In the laundry basket. What was I thinking? I guess I figured it was the safest place in the house. After all, who on earth, besides me, would think about doing laundry??
St. Anthony – he da man!
[5-16-2017]
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Love this Georgia! Especially the laundry quip!