Just Running

Butterfly_Beauty

 

 

Image found here.

“What are you doing?”

It was my turn to ask the question.  Propping my feet on the porch, I watched the butterfly jog mid-air, long spindly black legs peddling to nowhere.

Running.  On my new air treadmill.”  He smirked at me.  In the bright afternoon light, I could see his antennae glisten.  “Did you see how skinny those Daddy Long Legs have gotten?” he continued, not breaking stride for a single word.  “I can’t compete with that.  Even the hummingbirds are looking leaner than usual.  I have to keep up.”

I watched a few deer creep into the yard, making a dash for the big metal bucket filled with water for them.  “Why do I feel like you’re trying to build up a big metaphor?”

“All I’m doing is working out,” the butterfly panted, flapping his wings faster than a blink.  “Getting healthy.”

“Oh, go eat a aphid.”  Tapping one toe against the railing, I continued, “I know what you’re trying to do.  You’re trying to show me how I need to relax.  Or you’re trying to encourage me to keep going– only two days and one week of school left.”

“That’s not true,” the butterfly wheezed.  “With your degree and graduate certificate, there’s 54.  You’ll only have 18 hours.  You still have nine hours in the fall, and spring, and the summer, and the next fall after that…”

I chewed on the tip of my tongue, considering.  “Perhaps you’re trying to tell me that it’s a marathon, not a sprint, and I have to focus on the end goal.  Instead of stopping to watch everyone else and compare myself, I just need to keep my sights on the horizon.  Like the Little Engine that Could, you know?  I think I can, I think I can, I think I can….”

The butterfly fluttered to the nearest flower, the only one the deer hadn’t munched to a stub, and collapsed.  “You know,” he gasped.  “I think exercise is overrated.  That’s excruciating.  Terrible.  The most misery I’ve experienced since that bumble bee sucked all the pollen out of my favorite flower.”

“Because that’s what it’s about, isn’t it?’ I continued, ignoring his limp wings struggling to open and close, his antennae drooping with exhaustion.  “The road goes on forever, and the party never ends.  You just keep running because if you don’t, what are you going to do?”

“Forest Gump went home,” the butterfly observed wryly.

“Exactly!  So as tired as I am, I’ve just got to keep going, because there’s so much more to see, to do, places to get to, things to do…”  Above my head, the Daddy Long Legs trembled in the corner.  The butterfly drank from the flower, the flutter of his wings growing quicker and stronger with every sip.

“You know, you keep running,” the butterfly said, returning for another sip.  “I’m going to just sit here and relax, drink a little pollen, eat some aphids.  Moderation in everything, you know.”

I laughed.  “You’re a wimp, you know?”

“I’m not a wimp, I’m a butterfly.”  The butterfly sniffed.  “I’m to be admired, not to run marathons.  We all do what we’re good at.”

“You are quite pretty,” I teased.

“Don’t I know it?” he tossed back.

So we sat there, me and him, watching the Daddy Long Legs shiver, the deer munch their corn and Mitzie the squirrel chatter from the trees.

The road goes on forever, and the party never ends.

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  A new fun tale awaits!

Cry

Why did you have to tell me,

Today of all days,

With two papers due and an article,

Waiting for me?

 

Why did you have to tell me,

Today of all days,

When I couldn’t curl in a ball and cry,

Or wallow in my own sorrow?

 

Why did you have to tell me,

With a smile on your face,

Full of joy,

Your arms wrapped around the new life, the spark of promise underneath?

 

Why did you have to tell me,

So I could only smile,

“Congratulations,”

Please don’t ask me to stay,

Or look me in the eye,

For it’s all I can do,

Not to cry.

 

Why did you have to tell me,

What I already knew,

What I sensed from your smile,

Guilt curling in my belly from my own jealousy,

While my own hope died.

 

Why did you have to tell me,

Today of all days,

But I’ll ponder another day.

I have papers to write,

Things to do,

I’ll have to cry another day.

 

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  A new butterfly story tomorrow! 

Jingle

Physical-activity-group-hiking

 

Image found here.

“You know, there’s a snake up there,” the hiker warned, sliding past Lorelei on her way up, his way down.

“A snake?”  Lorelei didn’t like snakes.  She didn’t particularly like hiking either, but she could tolerate physical activity.  She could not tolerate reptiles.

“A big one,” his friend confirmed, his picket fence teeth poking through his wide smile.  Lorelei did not smile back.  “A rattler, maybe, or a copperhead.”

“Nah, it was a grass snake,” the first man contradicted.

“Was not!” his friend argued, and they bickered down the trail.  Lorelei looked at her friend Jenna, the evil friend who had dragged her out here in the first place on a Sunday morning.  Jenna held up her hands.  “Look, there’s never been a snake before.  I’ve been hiking here every weekend for three years and never seen a snake.”

“That’s just because it hasn’t bit you yet.”  Lorelei slipped her keys out of her pocket and shook them.

“What are you doing?” Jenna laughed.  “Trying to scare snakes off?”

“Exactly.”  Lorelei stomped up the rocky path, jingling even harder.

“Snakes don’t have ears.”

Lorelei wriggled her wrist even harder, the keys a terrible symphony of metal and aluminum trinkets.  “Sure they do.”

“No, they don’t.”  Jenna stepped up a steep jagged rock cutting out of the edge of the cliff and turned, pointing.  “Look at that view!”

Lorelei didn’t bother to turn, keeping her eyes glued to the path in front of her.  “Let’s just get out of here.  It’s hot and I’m tired.”  She switched jingling hands.

“You’re such a whiner,” Jenna grumbled, but she turned and followed her friend up through the thick cluster of oak trees.  “I’m telling you, snakes can’t hear you.”

“Can too.”

“Can not.”

The girls continued their bickering up the path, until their argument and the incessant clanging of keys faded away.  As soon as they were gone, two snakes slid out, one from the left side of the path and one from the right.

“I’m so glad they’re gone,” the first snake hissed.

“Those keys were quite atrocious,” the second snake agreed, scraping his scaly head across a rock as if to erase the noise from his memory.

“Not worth biting,” the first snake declared.

“Not at all,” the second snake agreed.  “We should have gone for those two men who smelled like rats.”

“No, they were too fat,” the first snake argued.  “They would have fallen down and flopped around here for ages.  Totally annoying.”

“True,” the second snake agreed.  “Perhaps we should try level five of the trail.  All those obnoxious health nuts.”

The rattler’s tail quivered with anticipation.  “Yes.   Lets.”

Together, they slithered up the trail in the other direction, far from the jingle of keys.

For although snakes don’t have ears, they can hear, after all.

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  More stories to come! 

Wiggle

 

 

puppies 412

Twist, twist, twist,

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle.

Belly first he slides across the twisted fiber fingers,

Just to return across on his back,

Sliding, sliding sliding,

Twisting back and forth,

Butt to head,

Feet to nose.

Twist, twist, twist,

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle.

There’s nothing like a good scent roll.

Three books you should read….

audreywait

 

 

Audrey, Wait! by Robin Benway

A little gem I picked up from the Boerne Library, Audrey dumps her loser musician ex-boyfriend only to discover he’s not such a loser after all…when the hit song he wrote about her dumping him goes famous.  And soon, so is she.  Audrey is a strong female lead and hilarious character.  I literally sat in my car after school and read it, sweating in the air conditioning.

promdateshell

Prom Dates from Hell by Rosemary Clement-Moore

Written by a former theater geek and journalist, Clement-Moore writes a zesty, feisty character in Maggie Quinn.  A reporter for her school paper, Maggie discovers that not only does she have the Sight, a clairvoyant gift from her grandmother, but there’s a demon infiltrating her school and slowly picking off the popular kids.

Texas+Gothic

Amy Goodnight just wants to graduate high school and go to the University of Texas, but she’s stuck watching her grandmother’s haunted ranch for the summer.  As a member of the mysterious Goodnight family, where everyone has a power, she’s not thrilled to find out she can see ghosts– particularly a ghost that is causing trouble at a nearby ranch.  Fast, snappy and great dialogue.

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  New story tomorrow! 

Texas Gothic by Rosemary Clement-Moore

Ode to Beakman’s World and How I Love Thee

1250719-kids_beakmans_world

Image from Google.

Ode to Beakman’s World and How I Love Thee

Ode to Beakman,

And how I love thee,

for you made science

interesting.

I’ve never been one,

To like numbers and physics,

Biology and chemistry,

And certainly not anatomy.

But oh Beakman,

With your Lester the Rat by your side,

And an arsenal of ’90s sound effects,

I was caught in your cheesy scientific slide.

Every Saturday morning,

I’d watch you blow something up,

Explain how everyday things worked,

While Lester yucked it up.

best-of-beakmans-world1

From Google.

You made science less scary,

More inviting, even,

So I even went to the science fair,

thanks to your maniac hair and grin.

Ode to Beakman’s world,

And how I love thee,

For without your cheerful sidekick Lester the Rat,

Or your zany personality,

I might have never gone to city.

(Science fair, that is.)

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  Fun awaits! 

 

Betrayal

photo 1-23

 

 

I can’t believe you.

 

photo 2-23

 

 

I’m so enraged, I can’t even look at you.

 

 

photo 3-18

 

 

I haven’t pooped on the floor.  I haven’t chased the deer in at least two days.  I piddled near the pad– I only missed it by two inches.  Are you forgetting that spider I saved you from?  What about the evil mail man?  He comes every day with those dubious looking boxes, inches from the glass. I nearly give myself a black eye flinging myself into the back door to scare him away, straining my vocal cords to alert every dog within a fifteen mile radius that there’s an intruder on my property.  I do all this for you, and what do you do for me?

 

photo 4-15

 

 

The vet.  You took us to the vet.  But I’ll show you.  I won’t lick you, I won’t kiss you, I won’t sniff you.  I’ll wait until you stop eating and prance onto the pad, hovering my butt over the paper and squeezing so just as you take your next bite, the rancid smell of my excrement hits you.  They say taste begins on the tongue, you know.  Taste this!

 

Oh, and by the way I puked on your car seat.  Perhaps you will think twice next time you betray us.

 

Rude.

 

Just so you know, I expect extra chicken tonight.

 

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  More stories await!