A Tire Swing Story is a bite-sized "imagining" inspired by an object I discover while wandering. It could be a curbside trash gem or a message sprayed on a wall. A lost mitten, or an antique store find. Anything goes. I photograph the object and post them together, the story and its inspiration. There will be a new story every Monday and Wednesday. On Fridays, I'll discuss writing, life, love, and coffee. (In no particular order and maybe all at once.)

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Where are my keys? Think, Brenda. Think. 

I saw them last at the No Frills. Yes, cause the keychain got caught on the metal coil of my notebook. I pulled it out in the--uh--meat aisle! Yes. I needed the recipe for Beef Stroganoff and mashed potatoes. Well, not for the potatoes, I know how to mash a potato. Ha ha! I needed the recipe for the stroganoff part. 

See, cause Les is always saying I can't cook. He tells everyone, too, he says: "Brenda is a disaster in the kitchen." Disaster, like a hurricane or a flood. Like that horrible tsunami that killed all those poor people. Gosh. So, this time I was going to show him with my fantastic stroganoff. I was going to make him eat his words! 

But then I went and lost my keys, or left them God knows where. How did I miss dropping them? Especially after I got that big keychain with the red shoe on it so this wouldn't happen. 

Scattered. That's another word Les likes to use for me. Spacey is another one. Sometimes flaky.

Come to think of it, Les has always got some word or another to describe me and none of them are really good, you know? None of them are the kind you want to tell your girlfriends about over Peach Bellinis at Milestones. 

Gorgeous. Sexy. Brilliant. Irresistible. 

These are words you want to repeat. These are words you want to wrap around you like a pink feather boa and show off to the world.

You know, I don't think I feel like making stroganoff tonight after all. Not even one bit. Cause I just thought of a new word that Les can use to describe me.  


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