L'aura del Campo

On laundry day

Today's scribble

On laundry day

I was soaking in the tub, awash in long-sleeved shirts and the fragrance of rosemary-sage as Donna didn't carry parsley and couldn't find the thyme. I have enough of that I thought, drifting off to meadows and the skeins of geese in flight. Perhaps if I soaked long enough I'd understand why folks needed to go to a big white building to be scrubbed every week. Cleansing they called it. One day to wash away the grime of whatever they'd done since the last time. Don't do it in the first place, I'd tell them. Like Matt and Molly when I caught them back of the tool shed. I didn't care. They were young and had to learn sometime and somewhere and since they were already naked and blushing I gave them a few pointers as I grabbed my hoe. Now Matt was trying to scrub it all away and Molly was bathing for two. Someday they would have a special gathering like the one tomorrow afternoon where they will try to not-drown a two-week old in a shallow pool. It's not like she can swim, so why so cruel? Then they will give her new hard-to-pronounce names no one will remember. Maybe I'll understand if I try harder. I steep in the aroma of a wild goose dinner rising around me, the liquid bleeding maroon. They say I need to wash away my wrong-doings like Matt and Molly, but I fail to see how what they've done applies to me. On this cleansing day, I grab the shirts, unplug the tub and let stray thoughts drain away.

         shirts soak
         on laundry day
         ah, me too

© Kåre Enga [166.333] 2009-12-06

Sketching it out:

I was soaking in the bathtub with 4 maroon shirts. I decided to use the rosemay-sage bubblebath Donna made up for me. She didn't have any thyme. Pen to paper... the ink flowed from there.

I feel this is a commentary on something... do you? Or is it too subtle or are you confused?

Other writers say...

Mvskoke poet Joy Harjo reading "No" and "No Huli"



Thou:

I'll continue to blead if you continue to blite.

Spoke with Iowegian Skye last night. Hopefully she'll blog in the next couple days.

Blogville stats: 44 female and 17 male WdC readers in the last month with 723 views for the period of daily blue. Gone are the days of 100 readers and 1,000 comments it seems.

I'm not getting down on those who do blead (blog-read), just noting that once upon a time there were many more interactive bloggers.

Me and Mine:

It has warmed up to zero. Won't be going out too much this week. Football game is at 2 p.m. Saturday.

Last night took a very short walk along the river. Saw a couple joggers, a woman with three dogs. There was nothing I wanted to sit and stare at... so I saw nothing. Today the north and middle channels of the Clark Fork are clogging and freezing over, giving a hiatus to our year-round kayak season.

Sat in Bernice's last night. A family behind me got one of their ab-fab wonderful cakes and was singing the birthday song. We talked briefly. The young girl, ~5, long dark haired and dark eyed didn't like it because it had coconut in it. fortunately, it was her mother's birthday. So... they cut a slice of German chocolate cake for me! When I finished I showed them the empty plate; I eat crumbs. We talked some more. The son, ~9, likes applesauce on everything. I mentioned it might go good on ham and pineapple pizza... yep, he'd already done that. I took a few notes on their appearances: she with her professional blond hair and high boots; he with balding down the middle; the boy in a red jacket. I should've noted more. It's in the odd and specific details stories are woven according to short-story writer Rick DeMarinis.

Montana: 0º and freezy sunshine in Missoula at 10 a.m.

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