My Fresh Hell
Life in Scribbletown.

Rotten Apples and Filthy Heathens


It’s after dinner on another gulley washer of a day. Dusty is playing her harmonica – songs entitled “Rabbits,” “Bananas,” and “Apples.” The latter song comes in two versions: “Ripe Apples” and “Rotten Apples.” She is practicing for the time she can start her own band. She reminds me daily that she really, really wants a guitar for her birthday. Or Christmas. That she’s going to start a kid band. Her dad and a former teacher who is already in a punk rock band will be the adult members and other school friends have been enlisted, in her mind, as tambourine players or singers. She’s unsure who will play drums and keyboard.

Right now, just minutes before bath time, the girls are jumping on my bed, the covers destroyed and strewn on the floor with my pillows. I will, no doubt, have to brush out the crumbs they’ll inevitably leave behind after such sessions before I go to bed tonight. I’m glad though that Red’s finally reached an age where the two of them can play together and amuse themselves and I can sit here at the laptop and do this.

Last night Dusty and I discussed the Big Bang Theory. We began the new Laura book (The Long Winter). She’d made it through Farmer Boy, which she thoroughly enjoyed even though the Ingalls family are not in it, and the first lines of TLW mentioned dragonflies.

“Dragonflies are the oldest insect. Really old.”
“Yes,” I said, “They are basically unchanged since dinosaur times.”
“What other insects lived in dinosaur times?”
“Mmm, probably roaches. I’m sure there are others but I don’t know for sure.”
“How do you think the world was born?”
“Do you think Mars had a baby and it was the Earth?”
I gave her a short run-down on the Big Bang Theory.
“Yes,” she said, “That’s right. That’s how it happened.” Absolutely certain in her mind about this as she is with every conclusion she comes to.
“Well, it’s just a guess. Nobody really knows for sure because nobody was around when the world came to be.”
“Right. Well, I’m sure it was a big explosion.” Dusty’s mind is made up on this subject and we move on to other things. Like when will she get to swim again since it rained all day on Monday.
“I don’t know. It’s supposed to rain and rain all week.”

One benefit of all this rain is that my garden is very happy. I’ve been picking a few chili peppers and tomatoes are growing (but still green) but yesterday, with the sudden burst of growth (of those things not destroyed by the groundhog) I picked four zucchinis and one yellow squash.

Dusty was ecstatic, “Yay! Zucchini bread! When can we make it?”
“As soon as I buy eggs.”
And then she did a little zucchini bread dance in the kitchen. Nice to know it takes so little to make her happy.

I was going to talk about my favorite shows tonight but find that life has intervened and produced more interesting fodder to write about. Tonight, though, is “Last Comic Standing Night.” I like this show because unlike American Idol, which I’m not crazy about, the comedians perform their own stuff. On AI, the contestants are just singing the same tired old songs by other composers and it’s usually just too painful to sit through. If they had to write their own songs, then maybe you’d have something. And, most of the comics are quite good even though most of my favorites were eliminated from the get-go. The semi-finalist choices were curious. I’ll never figure out the rationale there.

Okay, I really need to go bathe the filthy heathens. Dusty just asked, “Mommy, can I take all my clothes off?” But, of course, my dear!

That’s my cue.


6:10 p.m. ::
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