I’ll write what I know as an artist doing the dishes.
my reward is a cigarette.
seems I just want to get them done as soon as possible.
so i can have a smoke and drink coffee.
to save soap i squirt soap into a bowl and add water.
this also helps when wetting the scrubber, having the bowl to quickly dab the brush.
my coffee sits in the microwave after reheating.
i used oven cleaner on the surface of the oven and it removed some paint.
how we use this strong of a chemical in our ovens where we cook food is a mystery.
i wash the bowl first, they seem to take up most of the room in my sink.
then the cups.
then the plates.
i constantly worry about the temperature of the water and the pressure.
to hot and I’m wasting heat, or just adding to my utilities bill.
which I need to pay in the next week if I want power.
But I don’t think they can cut me off in the winter. there is some law about that.
And the trash is piling up outside my window. I need to make a run to the dump.
I’m so tired of recycling, the constant struggle of, can they recycle this?
i don’t want to see a single bubble on the dishes. they must be completely clean.
and when is this ash going to fall off my smoke.
no worries, today I will vacuum the floor.
it’s rare I put away the clean dishes. they mostly sit on the drying rack and I just take from the drying rack when I need a new dish.
forks are a bitch. you really need to use the scrubber with the plastic brush to get in between the prongs yet i prefer the sponge for all other dishes.
sometimes i wear sneakers to make my feet more comfortable while doing dishes.
I say doing the dishes, not cleaning the dishes.
everybody has to do their dishes.
i put out a towel for the extra dishes that don’t fit on the drying rack.
and I clean the counters really well when i am done.
and clean the coffee maker which overflowed like diarrhea this morning.
forgetting to put the pot in the maker does this.
i thought Folgers coffee slogan of “the best part of waking up, is Folgers in your cup” was just a catchy advertising slogan but they are right.
they should cross market with cigarettes.
value added, a pack of smokes in each container of coffee.
like early tobacco placing tobacco in each pack of baseball cards.
next is to do the laundry.
not clean the laundry but to do.
everybody has to do the laundry.
and then pick-up.
everybody has to pick-up too.
especially when you have kids.
so much to do.
today is different because i am trying to not try.
just to be.
regardless of time, or bills to pay.
or no money to pay the bills.
i’ll just be today.
Blazing down a hill on roller skates, with a speedometer.
The tractor in the field to my right keeps up my ridiculous speed at 55 mph and he’s pulling a mower, cutting down corn stalks for silage.
And the operator, a young man, grins with pride, working his dad’s land at such a pace.
We meet eyes, he gleams with the advances of technology in his hands.
He’s confident, hot-dogging in his tractor.
I’m struck with panic, I can’t slow down, I’ve never roller-skated this fast.
Surely he sees my fear.
Approaching a turn in the road, unable to make the turn and the gravel of the shoulder nears so I jump out of my skates.
Barefoot, I touch down like a jet plane, running, frantically running to keep my feet under me.
But my legs are heavy and feet lagging behind.
With my eyes wide open, I make a push to run faster.
I feel my body rise upright.
I’m going to make it!
With a secure stride I slow myself, and stop.
I finished the longest book I’ve ever read. The Winter of Our Discontent by John Steinbeck has 298 pages in this paperback copy, a “Bantam Seventy Five” printed in 1962. And “NOT ONE WORD HAS BEEN OMITTED.”
And now for the weather on the other side of these window panes.
Poultry or tobacco?
Which came first?
I eat the poultry to make the tobacco taste better.