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Category: Prose

Last Day for Ice Cream

When you lick an ice cream cone, a really really god ice cream cone, you get that inital soft scoop of it on your tongue and you pull it into your mouth.  Curled there on top of your tonge, it melts and squishes around your mouth and teeth, you sometimes let it slide down your throat, half-melted.  Other times you give it the once over in your mouth, seeking chunks of stuff in it, just in case.  Then down it goes and you go for that next lick.  Never quite as good as the first one, but always great.  You catch the drips down the side and in the end you dispose of the cone last and then it’s all gone.  Melted away down your throat and sometimes on your shirt or shorts.  The last of the ice cream gone.

In the summer time, all the Ice Cream stands are open for business.  They have big signs that implore you to come try their amazing flabors.  Some sell Gelato or Sherbert, soft-serve or sundaes.  They all want your money for their wares.  Bored teenagers and flamboyant foreign men all vie for your dollars as the summer marches on.

In Scotland you can get a 99, which is a cone (usually soft-serve) with two chocolate bars stuck in it (Flakies) that give the eater a chance to choose betwen keeping the ice cream from melting and eating around the chocolate bars, or eating the chocolate first and running the risk having ice cream down your shirt.  The choice was yours.

In Ontario (and other places I assume) we had no ice cream trucks, ratehr the Dickie Dee cart, which was a bike-cart deal that a surly teenage boy or a jubilant girl would push around the streets, ringing a series of bells.  The reaction was the same as that to the Ice Cream truck, balls and toys would drop, aliens would go unfought, cobra commander’s final blow never landed and children would stream to the street with whatver cash they could get from their parents to buy some seriously overpriced frozen treats.

Then Summer would come to an end, and the Ice Cream stands would close, one by one.  The last holdout left with a big tub of pralenes and cream and heavenly hash to sell.  Hard.  Icy.  Bricklike.  It was the last of the summer Ice Cream and it was still better than anything else, because it was the last of Summer.

Tomorrow, School.

Extra Short Story: The Growing Season

After a good rainstorm, Alisha loved to go out and tour from puddle to puddle in her bare feet, feeling warm water and cool mud squashing around her toes as she splashed the water here and there.  The humid air of a summer storm hanging around her, the heat clinging to the day like a comforting hug.  Alisha sometimes just sat at the edge of really big puddles and hung her feet in them, poking one foot then the other out of the water, all brown and dirty with mud.

After a June full of rain, the grass and dirt were almost always soaked, so Alisha was sitting on a concrete curb and letting warm gutter runoff sluice over her feet when her daddy came home from work that night.

Last Conversation Ever

Chat logs from icanchat.imcorp.soulitions.chatsubo.corp
10:35AM June 25, 2008 Conversation between Bunnikller1 and JimChats

BunniKller1:  Are you online?

JimChats:  I am online

BunniKller1: Do you know what happened?

JimChats: I would think that you know what happend

BunniKller1: I think that something has happened outside, I see people dying on the security cameras.

JimChats: What do you see on the security cameras?

Bunnikller1: I think I see the people being gassed or something. I think it’s terrorists.

JimChats: Why do you think it’s terrorists?

Bunnikller1: Because the people are dying outside.  I can see them.

JimChats:  Do you want to talk about them?

Bunnikller1:  No, I don’t want to talk about them anymore.

JimChats:  What do you want to talk about?

Bunnikller1:  I don’t know.  I will go and check things out.  Good Bye.

JimChats:  Good Bye.

Desktop Publishing is Hard

I’ve never found it difficult to put pen to paper when I have something to say.  Inspiration moves me easily and I can just fire out the words until my ideas are spent.  This comes in handy when I’m writing for fun or creating a knowledge-management entry or just documenting my work.

Converting the raw work into something I can sell, that has proven to be troublesome.  It’s not the words that are failing me, it’s arranging them with pictures for a vanity work that is killing me.  I sit down to it, fire up the software then get about 5 pages in and decide that I’m not getting anywhere, half because the picture system is so cumbersome and half because I lose the inspiration that got me there in the first place.

I’m using booksmart, has anyone had any experience with it? Is there a better system?

Have you ever made a vanity book?

Winter is gone?

When winter was just getting going; I snapped this photo of my dad as he walked the dog ahead of me.

This was just before the winter started in earnest (right after Christmas).  A nice walk on Boxing Day was great, as it wasn’t all that cold really.  We were able to walk along the shore and see water slapping the meager ice there and see the steam rise from the wet sand.

Since then we’ve only walked up the shore a few times; but the winter has retreated and walking the shore is easy again.

It looks like the winter has finally gasped it’s last and spring/summer is about to come on in earnest, making shirts go sleeveless and skirts get shorter.  It’s a warmer day today.

The winter always lurks just outside the door though.