fawning over you ...

   I fell the other day.

   Head over heels.

   I was watching where I was going.

   And there you were, with your momma by your side.

   And there I was.

   Fawning over you like a screaming Beatles fan.

   You, with your brown doe eyes and long lashes.

   Completely oblivious to what you were doing to me.

   You had me at that first wobbly step into my view.

   I slowed and waited patiently as your mom crossed the road in front of me.

   You, cautious and afraid, rightly so of the loud rumbling beast took one step and then curled up into a ball, trying to be invisible, just as your momma taught you.

   I stifled a laugh, knowing that at any minute traffic could come from the opposite direction and terrify you even more.

   "You can do it," I whispered.  "Come on, get up."

   Your momma came and stood over you, glaring at me, daring me to rush you.

   I turned off the engine, waiting patiently for the silence to comfort you.

   You peeked at me.  I saw you.  Your eye opened, your ear flickered, then slowly you lifted your head and looked at me.

   "You can do it," I whispered again.  "Come on, get up."

   Slowly you stood.  Took a step.  Your momma right there next to you.  Then another step, and another.

   A flip of your tail and you disappeared into the brush.

   I sighed, that long, slow sigh of someone who just fell in love at first sight.

... sat down beside her ...

   "Have you seen Mary this week?"

   "Wasn't she here yesterday?"

   "No, she usually just comes on Mondays and Fridays.  I haven't seen her since last week when she came to fix our meals for the weekend.  When she didn't show up on Monday, I assumed she was ill since she wasn't answering her phone either.  I arranged for one of the restaurants in town to deliver all of our meals for the week."

  "Ahh, that's why they tasted so much better."

  "Why must you always be such a difficult arse all the time?  That was really quite unkind.  Mary's meals are quite delicious."

  "Yes, on Mondays they are.  And sometimes on Tuesdays.  But by the time Wednesday evening or Thursday rolls around, they are sometimes a tad stale and flavorless after being in the refrigerator or freezer all week.  This week they have been quite fresh and delicious.  I've enjoyed them immensely."

  "Well, if you were willing to get off your arse and learn to cook something other than your thicker-than-oil coffee, you might be able to have fresh food more often."

  "Humph.  Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?  Have you rung her yet today?"

  "I have, but this time her daughter said that she never came home on Friday.  She assumed she had been staying here for some reason I don't understand.  Why on earth would she be staying here?  Do you suppose Mary has another job that she hasn't told us or her daughter about?"

  "More like she has a secret paramour she hasn't told her daughter about."

  "Don't be absurd!  Mary must be in her 80s!"

  "Don't be daft!  She might be in her 80s but she's not dead yet, and I certainly hope to still have paramours when I'm in my 80s."

  "Still?  You mean you have them now?"

  "Don't change the subject.  When was the last time you saw Mary?  What was the last thing you said to her?"

  "Oh, so this is all my fault?  She asked if we had any more jam, and I told her there might be some of grandmama's in the cellar."

  [Both of them at once.]  "The cellar!"

  "You don't suppose ..."

  "Surely it has to have died by now ..."

  "You will have to go check ..."

  "Me?  You were the one that sent her down there."

  "You were the one that said if we ignored it long enough it would just starve to death."

  "Well, we haven't had any problems with rats in a very long time."

  "I thought that's what we had the cats for."

  "We have cats?"

poppies ... poppies ...

   "I wonder if when Frank Baum wrote The Wonderful Wizard of Oz in 1900 he was an opium addict?"

  "Excuse me?!?!?!  Are you now seeking knowledge from moi?  The foolish Jeopardy aficionado?"

  "Well, you know everything else.  Was he?"

  "I doubt that he was, but he may have experienced the effects of it as a child."

  "Oh, so he was a child addict?"

  "No, that's not what I said.  Or meant.  Opium production from poppies began as early as 3400 BC but by the late 19th century when he wrote the book, it was peaking in the U.S. as laudanum."

  "So he wrote the book when he was a child?"

  "NO!  He wrote it when he was 44 years old.  But he had a great deal of health issues when he was younger, and may have been given laudanum to help him rest.  Especially after having a possible psychogenic heart attack when he was 14."

  "He was psycho?  No wonder there were flying monkeys and oompa loompas."

  "NO!  I don't know why I even try to educate you at times!   And there weren't Oompa Loompas in The Wizard of Oz!   That was Willy Wonka!  There were MUNCHKINS in the Wizard of Oz!"

  "Jeepers.  Don't have a house fall on you over it.  I was just messing with you.  So Baum was a psycho child drug addict?"

  "Argh!  No.  Frank essentially had an anxiety attack at a military boarding school when he got severely punished for daydreaming. and they allowed him to go home after that.  But he likely experienced being given laudanum during his childhood for his health issues and knew how it would make users fall asleep."

  "Hmmm.  I don't know.  Flying monkeys.  Munchkins.  Lollipop Guild.  There might have been some recreational use going on there when he got older."

  "Get out.  Just get out.  You are an uneducated, and unstable dweeb."

  <SLAM>

  "I don't know what he was all bent out of shape about."

misty mornings ...

   "Did you know ..."

   "Oh boy, wait ... Alex, I'd like to select Useless Bits of Knowledge for 300, please."

  "Well, never mind then if you are just going to be a sarcastic arse about it."

  "Alright by me."

  "Fine."

  "Fine."

  "Right."

  "Right."

  ...

  "Just get it over with.  What is it?"

  "No, really.  It's nothing."

  "TELL ME!"

  "Fine.  Mist, while it looks similar to steam over the water, is something entirely different.  Steam is created as water evaporates when the temperature reaches a boiling point.  Mist is created when there is warm air over water that suddenly comes in contact with a cooler surface of land."

  "So what is fog?"

  "Fog is when there is cold air, and the surface is dry.  Rain falling through the cold air evaporates and causes the dew point to rise and the saturation becomes fog."

  "So which one is it where vengeful dead pirates appear to kill the descendants of their murders?  I always get that confused with the creatures from another planet that take over a small New England town and kill off everyone outside of the supermarket."

  ...

  ...

  "Oh, shut it and leave me alone, you arse."