Or maybe just add one
Why do they call it a pod of whales?
And a pea pod?
They have absolutely nothing in common. Or do they?
Having too much time to think is probably the worst part of not having a demanding occupation. So while writing requires a lot of thinking, it’s that dull, dead space in between inspiration that I’m writing about now. Like when there is no grand thought and the world seems to going around without me. Many times I feel like Rip Van Wrinkle in a slow motion film while the rest of the people buzz about like bees collections pollen and food for the queen. What purpose is there is simple living?
Then, just like a wild flower, some great idea rises out of the wilderness to meet me. Here’s a sample.
We recently bought a gold wing motorcycle and a small trailer. The trailer will be a dog carrier, but right now it is just a flatbed. We have looked at modifications of dog-huts and pictures until we were bored with looking. Then all of sudden after an unusually warm day when the asthma kept me from physical activity, a thought popped into my brain. Our dog’s name is Honey. We should build a Honey-Wagon for the little “poopy” pup to ride in. A Honey Wagon! It was so funny. Then we began looking at barrel built trailers and found one painted like a bee. Oh girl! That was really funny.
So a Honey Wagon it is.
Today’s snow storm has the mutt and I stuck indoors. We have done the dishes, the chores, the laundry and decided upon a baby blanket pattern to crochet. Maybe. Now what?
My thoughts returned to the pod thing.
A pod cast. We should listen to a podcast. What does that have to do with a little pink whale on a blanket and a greenhouse with pea pods (never mind that the aphid spray killed the pea plant). So I’ll just have to find some hilarious comedian on pod-cast to occupy my thoughts!
We opted for a book on my Talking Book Library about rescue dogs. This one is about Greg, the transport trucker. And then I am back to surfing the web for a fur baby rescue or something. What a waste of time. Maybe I should go slide down the snow pile with Honey. Or make coffee. Yeah, make coffee.
So two peas in a pod, my husband and I sit buried in our screen time: he doing his work from home, me typing endless nothingnesses. The little skeins of yarn sit in expectation of an adorable whale blanket no pod visible yet, and the podcast goes unheard.
Today is a snow day in South Dakota. Perhaps we’ll eat those snow peas from the freezer for supper.