in Thoughts

Thoughts from Places: #intheglen

Monday was, to say the least, an impressive and fun day. Living in Hannibal, the trip to St. Louis is not a far one, and with St. Louis being the hub of cultural activity it is, it makes for a great place to visit if you want to simply experience something new and exciting. Forest Park hosts what I believe is an amazing an annual tradition of live theater and picnicking and friends. A yearly gathering of all the friends I have come to make in St. Louis, where we catch up, eat tasty foods and endure the heat for a bit of culture and entertainment. I am of course talking about “Shakespeare in the Park“.

This article is presented here as a part of Throwback Thursday, where we revisit some highlights from the archives of both Sabrael D. Carroll and M.E. Garey. This particular piece comes to you from June 2016.

But let me rewind. Monday began as all my Mondays do: an alarm at 3:45 AM. You see, I work as the breakfast cook at a local eatery, and so on Mondays and Tuesdays, I am awake before the sun to ensure out Kitchen is ready to go for the day ahead. This particular morning I found myself distracted due to two events the day before: a disappointment and a death.

I was disappointed because, after a lengthy discussion on leadership in our kitchen and my desire to be this leader, my boss informed me it was a great idea and then proceeded to hire someone outside of the restaurant to be our new leader. It led to me having to spend hours training the guy who took the position I wanted, how to do the position I already know how to do. What is worse, is that this is the second time I have been overlooked for advancement in the last 2 months.

The death was an old acquaintance I worked with a few years ago. He wasn’t a dear friend, but I knew of the adventures of his brothers, learned via a carpool. That means something, and while our back and forth on Facebook posts was infrequent, I’ll miss his wit, his humor and I will miss him. I did not know the darkness that he faced, and while I don’t think I could have helped or rescued him, that thought won’t make me miss him any less.

These two topics weighed on my mind, and while I tried to push them away, I wasn’t exactly successful during my day. The hours ticked by, drawing closer to noon when I would embark on my evening of mirth. But even after I got out of work, I couldn’t help but reflect on my two distractions during my drive. After a few detours, we arrived at our destination! Shakespeare Glen was sunny as usual, and with it being only 3:00 PM, the sun was high. Hiding under an umbrella for shade, Meg and I guarded the kingdom we staked out with plaid blankets and waited. We played games and talked and much like before I found myself still thinking about life. But then a curious thing happened. Friends arrived, one after another, bearing delicious food and wine. And for the first time all day I wasn’t distracted. We talked, caught up after a few months of us having moved away. We talked about renovations, and work, and plans, and families. I was awash in a sense of serenity I missed. We watched the show, talked more during intermission, and in the end, we went our separate ways.

I got home at 1:30 AM. And after a short nap, it was time to start Tuesday in a way similar to my Mondays: an alarm at 3:45 AM. Only this time I wasn’t distracted. I was exhausted, but not distracted. I felt more clarity, and I can only say that perhaps I left my worries behind. Perhaps I left them back #intheglen.


Upon the desk of Sabrael D. Carroll sits a half empty cup of tea, the leaves waiting patiently nearby for their second or maybe third brewing. This inevitable future creeps nearer as yet another sip is taken. The teapot, proudly swathed in the English flag, is empty but for the lone drop perched precariously at the end of the spout. The cup is placed back down again, amid a haphazard pile of character sheets, open rule books, and dungeon maps. All the stats and buffs and modifiers mix together in his mind, the numbers forming the framework of the story he’s dying to tell. He will surely get back to those in just a moment but for now, his attention is stolen by pixelated firefights and a meter running dangerously low. Don’t worry, he’ll write that next article… eventually.

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