Lost in a maze of her own doing, the Amazing Ginger took the graceful butter knife to the pantry where a scant handful of her mother’s advice slipped through the floorboards and into the deliberate basement.
The basement had only been cold for a measure of days, but the freezer had already frozen as hard as a cube of butter hibernating in the same freezer–but only when it (the freezer) was plugged in and the electricity was turned on–being an adherent to the public whims of Timothy O’Leary’s cow. The attic was another story altogether, so we’ll save that for another time. But this story doesn’t end there. The Amazing Ginger is still in the pantry heaving her mother’s advice through the floorboards, and the butter knife is still looking for something to plunge into like a cliff diver overlooking the Pacific before God’s last “Put out the light” was spoken.
Once by the pantry, George wondered what was taking Ginger so long to fill the basement with her mother’s advice, but then he remembered the story of the attic, and that was still another story altogether. And here we are.
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I keep my mother’s advice under the floorboards as well. I find it eminently suited. 😉
😀
….And the story never ends – it gets bigger and more complicated, It started with a moonlit room with a table and chair in the corner, and now complicated with an attic, pantry, and basement. George and Ginger who are still looking for each other.
Uncle Cliff is still doing the dishes with Monica’s help as they watch through the kitchen window, the Cliff Divers over the Pacific coast, and they themselves, looking for Georgette – either in a field of yellow, or looking for a banana so sing into.
Strains of “Old Mother Hubbard” filter through the cracks – ah, let us continue …