Today I was in the cheese room, wearing a smock and a hair net (I like the smock. It is just long enough that if I wear it over my shorts, it looks like I'm not wearing any pants) and scooping curd into cheese cloth to drain for the next batch of chevre. Simple work. Solitary. One's mind tends to meander. This is where mine ended up:
While cleaning vat. Gee. I could fit inside this thing. Comfortably. I could make a nest. Then--and these are my actual thoughts, guys, with some dead space in between--If zombies came, I would hide here. Hmm. Fair enough. Next I wondered how effective a hidey-hole the cheese vat would prove if tested by those not undead, and I scrolled feebly through the catalogue of villains from which one hides. Like if the gazpacho came, I said to myself.
Keep in mind that this was all going on in my head. There was no one in the room. I wasn't talking. No pressure to impress.
Not 'gestapo', I said to myself but, 'gazpacho'.
Watch out for that chilled tomato-based soup, kids. If you need a place to hide...
Sunday, September 14, 2008
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3 comments:
lol, i totally spit out my drink and embarrassed myself when i read your internal monologue about the zombies. i think this is why we originally bonded -- those could have been MY thoughts... provided i was scooping cheese curd in a hair net.
That is just great! I love your blog!
EMMA THE SWEDE
In my work space, I also have times of meditations thought. I water. Alot. Not a little. I water ALL of the green house, AND then I wander abouts in all of red butte watering 3 gardens and THEN I water inside the orangery and lastly (but not really) the visitor center. Subjects of thought include but not limited to:
A) Russian battismals
B) Latin then Spanish then Latin
C) how/when if they get pregnant, can you sell the children
D) so on
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