29 June 2015

Second Thoughts – Friends Don’t Let Friends Blog Drunk

Greetings Dear Reader,

Sometimes I will end the day with thoughts that are important to get out.  Usually I just write them and put them in my journal folder.  I have chosen that on occasion I will share them with you Dear Reader.

So it was a stressful day.  I arrived home to find that the yard workers had “weeded” my precious
Anise Hyssop plants.  All they offered in compensation was “sorry”.  I have cultivated these for tea for the seven years.  This year’s crop, the last at this house was promising to be bumper.  Now it is no more.  The Anise Hyssop is lost.

Then I took Christmas out to dinner.  The waitress and I conspired to get the cook to make me a rare hamburger.  It arrived well done.  I sent it back.  It returned barely medium well.   I ate it anyway (found a peanut, found a peanut, found a peanut just now)  I assured our waitress that she was not to blame but offered to teach the cook how to make a rare hamburger.  This was not a good idea.

Then to my aching chagrin I returned home to my dead tea leaves.  Christmas, my daughter, was kind enough to prepare me a gin and tonic.  It was more like gin that had had a brief flirtation with tonic but had forgotten all about it.  The lime hid this fact until it registered rather forcefully on my brain. (Indian restrained to curry my brain.  Newspaper warriors changing the names.  In the underpass a blind man stands, with cold flute hands.  Won’t you meet me on the other side?)

So I endeavored to write something profound with my gin infused brain.  The lime helped.  I thought about “Lime in the coconut”.  I prayed for the cook and was kind to the waitress. It is never the server’s fault when the cook screws up.  Remember that when it comes to tipping.

I returned home from my overcooked burger and my happy waitress to see the glaring empty spot where my Anise Hyssop should be.  It made me angry all over again.  I prayed for the person who killed it.  Christmas made me my first Gin and tonic of the evening with lime.   The second soon followed to curry my brain. 

Even in this state it is obvious that I must love the Anise Hyssop murderer and the hamburger burner.  I must realize that even in my current pickled personality I must forgive and love.  I must love the killer of my Anise Hyssop. I must love the cook who tried to blame the server by saying she left my burger in the window too long.  How stupid is that?   I must realize that even in this moment I must do what is right and that I am in control of and responsible for my actions.  Everything else is window dressing and lies.

Still if your friend is a writer and you know him to Blog; protect him from dismal truths that dance through his mind when Gin is his guest.  The two of them are not friends.  They will betray you to continue their war.  In short; Friends don’t let friends blog drunk.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”
(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

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