I hate photocopiers

I always approach photocopiers with fear. From my very first experience as a young, 50 dollar-a-week typist, who snarled up the office photocopier so badly that the technician had to be called, to my most recent this week as a substitute teacher, they have humiliated me. They have spat back at me, resisted my efforts to coax mangled bits of important documents out of their jaws, and sat in stony silence when I was rushing to meet deadlines. Yes I hate them and, like a dog who senses fear from a stranger, they seem to bristle at my approach.

My worst experience with that infernal invention was when I was beautifully dressed for a presentation at a large college store I managed. The dress was a particular favorite; my sister had willed it to me. As she was dying she had said, “Look, I just spent $1,000 on new clothes before I got ill. I really would rather have you wear the duds than have them donated to Goodwill and have some bimbo wearing them.” My sister was practical and opinionated, even in her waning days. So I picked through her closet and this dress immediately caught my eye. A soft pearl grey cotton with tiny white dots. Big puffy sleeves, a narrow self-belted waist and gored skirt. When I put it on I felt a little of my sister’s fairy princess magic; she had always been the blonde Cinderella while I had clumped along behind her like one of the ugly stepsisters.

So there I was that morning in my Cinderella mode, about to go and wow them (I hoped) at a motivational breakfast. First, however, I had to copy my speech notes; Cinderella still had chores to do before she could go to the ball. I hurried into the copy room. This was not going to be a difficult encounter, I told myself. No single sided to double sided, no collating or stapling. Just three little pages. I loaded the feeder and pressed the button. Silence. No whirring, no papers moving. I looked at the display message, “Put toner in.” Toner, oh great. I looked at the sheets; was there a way I could get around this? But, no, to give a professional presentation, I needed handouts. So I reached for the bottle of black dust, opened the drawer and uncapped the bottle. Whether the machine really did have a malevolent spirit, I don’t know. I don’t really know what happened in the next few moments. All that I do know is that the bottle tipped forward and the black dust scattered all over the front of my lovely dress, all over my hands. And, like Cinderella in front of the fireplace, I was no longer ready for the ball. I looked every inch the scullery maid and my dress was ruined. And the photocopier settled back, satisfied that it had once again put me in my place.

It isn't very often that my hiking group has a Saturday hike; they mostly hike on Sundays and as we go to church on Sundays and then try to spend the day quietly, we don't go. But this week Dave arranged a Saturday hike as we hadn't had a gentle midweek one. And I was pleased that dh agreed that he'd go. Dh hasn't hiked with me in a long time; he says that I am in too good a shape for him and he normally doesn't like hiking with other people. So I half expected him yesterday morning to say that he'd changed his mind but, no, he did come along and here's the

photo to prove it: The hike attracted a large group, larger than Dave had expected I think. In all, we had 27 people spread over 5 cars. As the parking lot at the trailhead was already full, it was quite the process to unload the cars and then have the drivers drive back along the narrow dirt road looking for a place where they could pull off the side. But it was actually accomplished with a minimum of fuss and off we went antlike along the trail. It was a gorgeous day: blue, blue sky, temp aroud 65º until we got down close to the stream and the actual waterfall where, as you can see from the snow in the next photo, it was still cold.

There were even smatterings of snow along the path and by the waterfall. It took us about an hour of leisurely hiking along a fairly level path--with occasional stepping back and forth across the stream--to arrive at the waterfall. Dave said it was about 2.5 miles to the waterfall; some of the group elected to continue along farther but that was going to mean some uphill climbing so 11 of us decided that we'd had enough for the day. So after a 20-minute break, we turned around and retraced our path through the woods. I got to be the "tail"--meaning I stayed at the back ensuring we didn't lose anyone. That enabled dh and I to amble along at our own pace although Claire, a young woman I'd met on a previous hike, dropped back and walked along with me, chatting about what she was thinking of doing with her life now that she'd graduated and had arrived in Santa Fe from Maryland. It was fun sharing ideas with her. I was also glad to be working my legs and glutes; I seem to have acquired two extra pounds these past couple of weeks. If they're going to stick around, I'd rather they did so as muscle.