Wow, we are almost halfway through Blogathon 2009! I’ve already been through the ‘brief-post’ phase, but I haven’t hit the ‘nonsensical-post’ phase. Yet.
I think I’ll cruise back to my Junior year in high school, to Mr. Lowry’s English class. We kept journals in this class and very often Mr. Lowry would assign a ‘stream of consciousness’ entry. Here’s one for now:
I’m hungry. I smell dinner. I’m thankful that not only is dinner almost ready, but it is being cooked by my ever-loving daughters. It will be yummy, as usual. Tomorrow after my post-blogathon-nap I will cook dinner. But tonight, I will blog, they will cook, I will eat, I will blog, they will sleep, I will blog.
Looking around me I see a group of family playing horseshoes up in our _Oasis._ Three generations of ages. From inside of the house (I’m outside) I hear someone playing _Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star_ on the piano. I hear voices talking, laughing. I feel a nice breeze as the sun is just not setting behind the trees on the horizon. I hear birds still singing now and then. I hear the cicada’s getting warmed up for their night time concert.
I look another direction and I see chickens, guineas and ducks roaming around the coop, seeking out bugs or anything else they can eat.
Uhoh, here is Shelly. She wants something. Most likely food. _Pause…_
Shelly: ‘I wanna eat my food.’
Me: ‘I thought you wanted to mail it to Indonesia.’
Shelly: ‘What’s that? In the mail? Huh?’
Me: ‘ You really want to _eat_ your food?’
Shelly: (thinking) ‘Mail?’
Me: ‘yeah, mail.’
Shelly: (pauses again) ‘Mail it to Doris?’
Me: ‘Who’s Doris?’
Shelly: ‘On there.’
Me: ‘On the computer?’
Shelly: ‘Oh, yeah.’
Me: ‘The only Doris that I know on the computer – is a cartoon sheep.’
Shelly says nothing.
Me: ‘Maybe you want to make art out of your food.’
Shelly: ‘What’s that?’
Me: ‘You want to do that? Make art out of your food?’
Shelly:’ Yeah’. (pause) ‘I eat a food.’
Me: ‘Ok, whatever.’
Shelly practically RUNS into the house.