Ann Emmert Abbott
jimdens – 2008-11-14 6:10 AM
Georganna – 2008-11-13 10:32 PM
What noise? I stop punching the keyboard. I listen.
Oh, yeah. I left the TV on again. I’m in SoCal, so the windows are still open, cooling the house before tomorrow’s Santa Ana; and there goes the neighbor, hauling out his garbage cans for tomorrow’s pickup. (I prefer to whip mine out in my housecoat and pink, fuzzy slippers, just before the truck rumbles to a halt at my carport.)
Somehow, I can easily picture this Geo. I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned this, but you remind me of my best friend. Your avatar, (that is you, isn’t it?), looks just like her, and the way you speak is so much like her it’s scary. One time you said to me, “no silly”, and I immediately thought of her. She says that to me when my mind automatically sees something as literal. Maybe you’re distantly related and have never met….
I don’t know who to pity more — you or your friend. Yes, that’s really me, although the camera is a bit fuzzy and it takes about 20 years away! Is your friend a writer? Once when I got together with an old reporter friend and we jabbered away, my husband said to hers, “Do all writers talk like that.” Hers nodded sadly.
Huh? Do you suppose my creative writing would go better if I wrote as I speak? Metacognitions R us!
Oh, I forgot to say that when I had a a noisy little rugrat with friends–and I was a SAHM as they call it now–it was just about the same for me, except that, being a mother, a tiny part of my attention was constantly monitoring the kid. It it was quiet for too long, I would call to her or go see what mischief she was up to. Moms just know these things.
Me: “Becky, where are you?”
Becky: “Unner the house with Stripe.” (our spotted Cockapoo)