The Progeny
Slacking Reaps Its Own Rewards
Itching for an absorbing yet non-mindboggling read, I picked up a
paperback version of Michael Crichton's "Timeline." I'd snapped it up
for 50 cents....some place. Who can keep track when there are literally
hundreds of books setting and lying about in odd nooks and corners?
Some of the odd nooks and corners have been created by books.
I'd barely cracked the cover when I realized this was going to be another of "Ma's mad book affairs."
They burn swift and hot, all the more intense for having many pressing duties.
But it's not unlike a large chocolate cake. You know you shouldn't eat it by yourself in two days, but then again, there's something about the prospect of removing temptation that compels one to gorge.
And such will be the book, I am afraid.
With Loren and the boys outside working I took myself to the couch, adjusted my pillows and reclined for a reverie.
Just as I became concerned for the Professors well-being, I caught the flicker of movement on the floor.
"Probably a cricket," I thought. "I'd better get it before it finds a corner and starts chirping annoyingly."
Imagine my surprise, nay horror, upon glancing down to my right discovering it was not a cricket, but a threat much more pernicious: "The House Spider of Evil."
Said spider was purposefully moving out from under one couch and heading for the dark recesses of another.
I took a moment to reflect upon my half century of life: just long enough to form a battle plan but not long enough to mentally say "goodbye" to all my friends (which wouldn't have taken that long, actually).
Knowing I'd have one shot and one shot only, I screwed up my mental courage, briefly searching my mind for some weapon but knowing deep in my heart that this had to be done with my bare hand, and done quickly.
The spider seemed unaware of his impending doom.....SMACK!...I picked up my hand and there was nothing on the floor....
*violent shaking of hand*
It's crumpled body fell upon the wood, an impotent clump of brown, hairy-scary.
My hand is sore. The spider is dead.
Two paths diverged on an afternoon. And I....I chose the path of less resistance.
And that has made all the difference.
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Some of the odd nooks and corners have been created by books.
I'd barely cracked the cover when I realized this was going to be another of "Ma's mad book affairs."
They burn swift and hot, all the more intense for having many pressing duties.
But it's not unlike a large chocolate cake. You know you shouldn't eat it by yourself in two days, but then again, there's something about the prospect of removing temptation that compels one to gorge.
And such will be the book, I am afraid.
With Loren and the boys outside working I took myself to the couch, adjusted my pillows and reclined for a reverie.
Just as I became concerned for the Professors well-being, I caught the flicker of movement on the floor.
"Probably a cricket," I thought. "I'd better get it before it finds a corner and starts chirping annoyingly."
Imagine my surprise, nay horror, upon glancing down to my right discovering it was not a cricket, but a threat much more pernicious: "The House Spider of Evil."
Said spider was purposefully moving out from under one couch and heading for the dark recesses of another.
I took a moment to reflect upon my half century of life: just long enough to form a battle plan but not long enough to mentally say "goodbye" to all my friends (which wouldn't have taken that long, actually).
Knowing I'd have one shot and one shot only, I screwed up my mental courage, briefly searching my mind for some weapon but knowing deep in my heart that this had to be done with my bare hand, and done quickly.
The spider seemed unaware of his impending doom.....SMACK!...I picked up my hand and there was nothing on the floor....
*violent shaking of hand*
It's crumpled body fell upon the wood, an impotent clump of brown, hairy-scary.
My hand is sore. The spider is dead.
Two paths diverged on an afternoon. And I....I chose the path of less resistance.
And that has made all the difference.
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posted by Ma Hoyt | 11:09 AM
2 Comments:
No picture?
OW
I was probably too traumatized :-p
Also, I don't like to see pictures of spiders.
Of course the real reason was laziness.
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