The Day After

So, yesterday, you saw the train wreck.  Not one of my best days.  Today, I’m still alive, so I guess life goes on. I think I’ve aged a bit overnight, or maybe it’s been happening all along and I just didn’t notice before.Rose in December I do know that if this rosebud could bloom in December, I can still go on in July.

The blueberry mess is all cleaned up in the kitchen.  YAY for me.  Not a pleasant way to spend the day.  But necessary.  Good thing I love blueberries.  It would not be a good thing if I had to throw all that syrup out because of a few stains.  Especially stains that were so easy to remove.  I’ll never be without peroxide around, ever.  Have a white, uh, blueberry shade, towel to soak tonight.  Question of the day:  Why do I buy anything white?  I know when I buy it I’m going to stain it in some way.  Shirts?  Dribble my meals on them.  Pants?  Sit on freshly painted benches.  Or worse, a bench a bird just flew over.  Birds always leave a calling card.

Marigolds at VastwoodI’m trying to surround myself with flowers today.  Can’t have the real ones.  Allergies.  Interesting discovery, made when my brats, er, kids were young.  We were walking on one of the country roads near home, picking and eating blackberries as we walked.  I noticed some large, juicy ones on one side, and was feasting away, up to my armpits in green weeds, when I noticed the br…I mean, kids weren’t with me.  I turned around to see where they were, and they were all up on the road, laughing so hard they were doubled over.  When I asked them why they weren’t down there eating blackberries with me, they pointed to the “weeds” and told me to look at what I was standing in.  Those weeds all had the tell-tale three-leaf branches of poison ivy.  They had watched me going deeper and deeper in the stuff while they just laughed and had a good time at my expense.  We were about three miles from home, and I was just waiting for the itch the entire way home.  Don’t think I spoke to them the entire walk.  The longest walk of my life.  And they just kept on laughing.

I got the last laugh though.  I finally found the one thing in nature I’m not allergic to.  Mike can walk past it and gets a rash.  But I was up to my armpits and not even an itch.  So I got all the big, juicy blackberries just for myself that entire season.  I could have taken a bucket and picked some for them.  Nope!  They could have warned me when they saw what I was walking in to.  So they got to watch me pop each big berry in my mouth, and see the juice run down my face.  I knew better than to wear white on those excursions.  We went other places to pick berries for jam.  Those were “my” berries.  And I savored each big bite.

I don’t care much for blackberries any more.  Probably got sick of them that summer.  Or maybe just got tired of always having the seeds stuck between my teeth.  Now that’s a nice thought to leave you with, huh?

A.

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