It was a dark and stormy night. Just like Snoopy, I have my eyes to the sky as I witness huge dark thunderheads of impending tornadic force roar in authority to obscure comparatively puny fireworks below. In a phenomenal display of power, subsequent lightning bolts make a boisterous entrance that is sending hosts of unprepared patriots scurrying to find shelter, covering their heads, ducking like ducks. Any remaining fireworks and patriot acts peter out quickly. “It’s not nice to blow things up in my sky!” Mother nature demands, “and if that’s not enough of a message, I’ll blow your toupees off.” “Hooray for Independence Day, what a grand finale!” I say.
Anyone who was listening to the weather today knew this storm was brewing, and brewing hot. It was hot, so hot today. “How hot?” you ask. Hotter than a pistol I tell ya. Sticky, steamy, sweaties of wet balls in the eyes kind of hot. So hot as to make any patriot wear, or other clothing for that matter, seem like a bad idea. Not to be outdone by weather, I’m having the kind of hot flashes that demand a nearby snowbank to throw myself into. Naked, preferably.
Not being the girly girl I am, and not far enough away from puritanical prying patriot peepers, I hoisted the air conditioner into the window instead. In the process of trying to handle an armload of slippery, sweaty, wet metal, I spilled water all over a nearby library book about proofreading. Sure, I can justify spilling all over a modern book about our “proper” English language, and this book was being used as a bedtime lullaby. In other proper words, it was boring. As a lover of books, I would not intentionally deface knowledge. I love books, I love reading. I love the red hat women who frequent libraries. I thrive of learning. Immediately I rescued the other nearby books about Ancient Greek Poetry from a similar fate. Spilling on hardcover library-bound Ancient Greek Poetry book seems like it should be bad karma, sacrilegious, not to mention heavy on the fine and possible suspension from a place I care about. That was a real close call!
So I assembled a sincere note of apology to librarians everywhere, and put the proofreading book in a plastic bag, and just like Snoopy, I keep my eyes to the sky tonight and am thankful to see the storm slowly rumble on towards another locale without inflicting any harm on our garden or horses. Look out Motley, here it comes.
by Jill Johnson
Copyright 2012 Jill Annette Johnson. All Rights Reserved