A
Don’t believe for one minute that poison ivy is harmless in winter. True, there aren’t any leaves. But given a day or two of spring temps, that venom is flowing in those vines. And what better to do on a spring-like winter day, than to clear fence rows…
What are you writing? I mean, really. Who cares that you got poison ivy? Again. And why do you want to talk like that? That’s not the way you talk. This is your journal. You’re not here to impress your colleagues. You’re here to record thoughts and situations, blow off steam and, and, stumble through. Lighten up. Enjoy the thing for what it is.
What is it?
It’s you man: You, talking from point A to point B, following the footsteps of that voice in your head, recording this, ignoring that. Just go with it.
I don’t have anything to talk about.
Just open your mouth and start typing. One word will follow the other. Have you ever known that to not happen? You have something to talk about. You just need a prompt, to be pushed a little. I just pushed you. See how easy that was? I mean, you just wrote half a page, some decent dialogue—albeit, with yourself—but it’s good; it’s believable.
Thanks.
You’re welcome. Hey, are you going to talk yourself out of making pancakes again today? ‘Cause I could really go for those pancakes. I hate that when you talk about making pancakes all morning, then eat cold cereal. I mean, I don’t hate it, hate it… Go on. Go back and pump me up with the italics… Feel better?
Yeah.
Like I was saying, I don’t hate it. I know we’re eliminating that word. But it’s like every weekend. You’ve got two perfect bananas and a bag of walnuts… Oh crap!
What?
You used the last of the milk yesterday on your cereal, didn’t you?
Mmhmm.
Can you use water?
No.
Maybe mix yogurt and water together.
Maybe.
Will you at least try?
Sure.
Promise?
Promise.
Poison Ivy. Just thinking about it makes me itch. I had to sell the place of my dreams because of it. I get it off the dog's hair, rain washed firewood, smoke and anything else you can name. SWMBO ferrets it out and pulls it up by hand. To her it is just another weed. I kill it from a distance with chemicals giggling with great glee.
ReplyDeleteNow you have done it. I am afraid to go outside.
I have seen people sit in front of the TV and eat their breakfast pellets raw from the box. Personally I get as much enjoyment from cooking as from eating. I cook daily as a sort of therapy.