'Friends' are really blogging me down. This morning before leaving for work my bfmtm (best friend married to me) said, "Enough of your one liners, write a real blog!" I wonder if he knew then it would be left overs for dinner?
In my hit or miss a day in this January challenge to blog everyday about 'Friends', I'm artfully trying to grasp those batty ideas but they just keep flying out of my mind. Keeping with a theme for a major event has got to be easier than writing for a month about comrades.
Nevertheless, being the kind of person I am, bordering on perfectionist fanatic and obsessive compulsive cracked pot, I can not bring myself to leave the thesis. The dare to my creativity is too great. I am going to keep centering my blogs on the mainframe because the bigger challenge is to stick to it rather than run a-muck with the other trampoline thoughts jumping around in my head.
This morning I asked myself, "How many blogs can a blogger blog about buddies?" I am sure there are endless stories about chums and cohorts. I just don't have all that many to pull out of my quiver. So I set about searching for some ways to become friends with 'Friends' and make this thing fly.
I could be friends with my money, if I had any. This being flu season, I could make friends with my toilet. I am already friends with my horse. Other furry friends include a Pomeranian named Taffi and a Bernese Mountain Dog named Esther. I want to be friends with my grown-up kids but they have a phobia about that. On a cold winter night a warm fire could be my friend of the day.
I am a friend to the stray cats that irresponsible owners drop off in the dead of winter at our little homestead. The most important and ultimate friend I have is Jesus, who deserves a blog written just for Him but that is a never ending story. My significant other bff is chocolate, and my hubby who makes the Hershey Kiss run often to keep the chocolate fountain flowing.
I am not friendly with brussel sprouts, but I do occasionally entertain them. The 'Welcome Friends' mat is not laid out for dead mice although I have on demand given one or more a lift out of the basement. Intoxication is not my friend, nor are cigarettes or anything else one inhales through a small tube, or sharp objects impaled into one's vein. I don't claim violence as a friend, but I have to admit to bumping into one another from time to time. There was the time I Frisbee-ed a few dishes against a tree, and the time I 'bowled' the Pyrex past my hubby's head and pinned it to the wall (if y'all were married to a Mokry, you'd know what I'm talkin' about). I'm happy to say I am no longer a friend to those days of my young and explosive nature.
Out of the past, I am still friends with the little girl I was. She liked a challenge too. Dare her to walk the ridgepole, and like Green Gables Ann with an 'e' she'd take you up on it. Perhaps that is why God has placed me on the ridgepole of life so often. He knows I'll accept His challenge and see it through to the end even if I land on my keister a few times.
In the future I am meeting the best is yet to be and we're going to see the last of life for which the first was made. Sometime soon I'll be introduced to an old friend and together we'll be defying the demands of senior-hood, but for today...give a Woman in Cute Shoes a challenge, and she'll rise on stilettos to meet it.