Thursday, July 23, 2009

Where In The Heck Is The Hussy?

1. The bills piled themselves; I tell you..."piled themselves" on the countertop.

2. And the weeds, they curled their tentacles around my ankles as I stood there too long debating when and chop their heads off and take them by their toes and drown them in air.

3. The peas, trying to keep their heads above water, struggle for survival in the Rainforest, now called Vermont.

4. And the cat, forlorn, frolicked in the tall grass hoping someone would fill his empty food dish.

4. And the wilting celery and sour milk, they too were frolicking, almost moving in joy for our arrival home.

5. But it was the pond water, in the brisk air (which was blowing in (yet) another storm) that cleansed us better than the waters where we washed away our wounds for the past ten days. Yet, these were the waters we were weened on...our home spa, fertile with life forms that most others would have nightmares about.

Any hints??

We love our home. We love our house. Our nest is best.

Your Hussy (who is home for at least a week)

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