We've been together for years, my faithful companion and I. Even though some would say I've outgrown my companion, and it's time to move on, I say to them: "Just a cotton-pickin' minute! I'll say goodbye when I'm darn good and ready!"
Farmer H is one of those moving-on sayers. Only last night, he broached the subject. I had just come upstairs to warm up the
Of course a bit of misfortune befell us both as I set the chili pot on the stove. Nothing big. No chili was wasted. No one was hurt. But I decided it was time for my companion to wait for me in the living room. On the short couch. With Farmer H. And my companion was still waiting for me today, as I prepared to return to my dark basement lair.
Can you believe Farmer H told me to THROW MY FAITHFUL COMPANION AWAY?
I know, right? He's a hard-hearted son of a gun! As if a few worn spots are enough to revoke my love. AND, Farmer H only saw that one sleeve, the elbow, where the fabric is thin, and several holes have developed. Not the cuff that flaps like a gaping mouth, that had snagged on the auto-clean lever of the oven as I put down the pot of chili.
I love my comfy baby-blue sweatshirt. I know it's time for us to part. I even have a new one waiting in the wings.
Goodbyes are hard for me.
6 comments:
Look at that photo of your best friend, left side just above centre, those eyes and mouth (holes) looking a little upset at the thought of being thrown away. Maybe you could cut out the sleeves and wear it as a vest over a shirt for a few more years. Use the sleeves to pad the arms of your rolly chair.
River,
Ooh! That IS a sad face! And I COULD wear it as a vest, layering it under a sweatshirt with a hood, or under a jacket, for driveway walking this winter.
I don't have a way to pad the chair arms, because they're attached. It's like a curved-corner rectangle made from a flattened metal tube. The tubey gap where my thumb gets caught is the only open part, but it is still attached at each end by a short flat curved piece of metal.
HM--I hold onto beloved clothing items too long, but even I say it's time. (If I was there, I would distract you while Farmer H took it down the road and buried it... in an undisclosed location.
Sioux,
TRAITOR! I would never have distracted you to enable the destruction of your beloved Crocs! Who knew you were turning into a proFarmerHite? Not this old...gal.
Are you sure it doesn't have a few good years left?
fishducky,
I think it might, but Farmer H begs to differ.
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