>insurance against unrowed ducks


I want to say I drive with abandon. I want to say: on orange desert dirt with eight pounds of bees in the back of my sad pickup. This to say — I’d like to leave home once without insuring first all my ducks are lined up. In a column, in a row — it doesn’t matter. I want to  remember how it feels to drive away without first making sure my life is in order.
To the person who was talking to me while I was Out To Lunch, listening to me talk about My Game Plan and how it includes options for Plan A through Plan D, let me say I know you know lately I’ve not been able to keep my ducks in a row. You scoffed (aka: snorted) when I spoke (aka: whined or snivelled) about the fear of what might happen if any of my rowed ducks should stray.
During this driving and talking at said lunch time, unbeknownst to me, a vehicle belonging to the company which employs me even when I am to and fro-ing between Jimmy John’s and Subway, was hit by an uninsured motorist, two blocks away from my whine.
The motorist whose name is on the flipside of the snapped ticket knew enough to talk my co-buddy into reparking his vehicle in such a way when the police came the scene of the accident had been rearranged. Hence, she, the lady without insurance, received no ticket for turning right on a red.
Hence, I’m not thrilled with her but  hence, I realize I’m contrary when it comes to Want. I want that orange desert dirt to turn into a climb of beauty and the bees in the back to produce honey. I’d like to have insurance when I need it and I’d like to live life as though I don’t.

About redmitten

author of Cracking Geodes Open, Making Good Use of August, and The Peppermint Bottle. poetry editor for IthacaLit. website: https://toomuchaugust.wordpress.com

4 responses to “>insurance against unrowed ducks

  1. >…or you could be like Kathy Bates in 'Fried Green Tomatoes' when she rams her car into the blond bimbo who stole her parking space claiming "you may be young and pretty, but I'm older and have MORE insurance!!" You deserve 8 pounds of bees and the honey along with it.

  2. >Seriously, have you ever driven with Abandon? I can't get him to listen to any of my radio stations, and he drops his fast food crap all over my SUV. Sooo not worth it.

  3. >Orange desert dirt! Yay!!& turning into "a climb of beauty" – how wonderful. Like a loft of doves or something. One of those strange animal group word things. It's early. You know what I mean….(!)

  4. >kerry,i think the eight pounds of bees belong to you!hi rox,if i told him once i've told him 4.32 times that he was supposed to head back east and not come back again.hi rose,i'm grinning about that dirt. thank you for that. totally random here, but last night my daughter was telling us about her fishing trip with her students and how one uncalm boy was calm the entire time because he loved to lay down "on the ground of the canoe".so there ya go.

and then you said:

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 52 other followers

%d bloggers like this: