Life as a Spinning Ride

I used to love being spun.

As child I craved any ride that went around in circles.
Not heights, and not drops, but spinning.

My sister loved to swing.

I loved to spin.

But since my head went wrong I can spin no more.

Last summer, August, for my birthday, my mate and my best friend and I went to the fair and she and I rode two spinning rides and laughed so hard we cried. Then I didn’t feel so well, and knew that that, my first ride in years, had also been my last ride for awhile.


So my mate P and I went to Cape Cod last week for a quick vacation in between his old job and new job.

The problem with vacations is that we always have to take me.

Leading up to it, I was not well enough to go, and I said, “Ok Honey, I will go with you on this holiday if when we go out on the whale watching boat you promise to chop my legs off and throw me into the sea.”

And he humored me but I could tell that that was going to really ruin his holiday if he had to do that. And, as he said, “Thanks, I will go on vacation but end up in jail. Very relaxing.”

So, we did get to go and I was feeling fairly decent and I loved being on the boat. It was a calm day but still the boat went up and down and one had to hold on to the rails and walk with sea legs, but it was wonderful, the sea so alive, like a horse, like a carousel ride, and filled with whales!

We both got migraine eyes from the light and the pitching and maybe the wind and sun and cold all at once, staring long at horizons and waves, looking for fin whales and humpbacks, but still we loved our time out there and want to go back.

The earth continues to spin.

I continue to hold on.


(photo NJ Fair August 2010)