Of Horses, Melons and Sloppy Smooches

I had a nice little story planned for this evening, but there's just too much going on around here to focus. I've tucked it away on a mental shelf until one of those early Saturday mornings when the house is quiet and I can think straight.

The cubicle asylum just keeps getting crazier. It's like the men around there just don't know when to stop. I'm not bashing the opposite sex and Lord knows I'm not a prude, but there's a time and a place for everything. The menfolk around the office just do not seem to grasp that concept. Today, one of the girls had a cantaloupe sitting by her desk. The plant manager wandered in and said, "Don't take offence by this, but you sure gotta nice melon." Then there were comments made regarding it's possible juiciness and something about thumping, I'm not sure exactly. They've all been acting like this since my cubicle neighbor reported one of the other managers for his attempt to poke her "melon", under the ruse of admiring her necklace. If it were only in fun or a slip of the tongue, it would be different, but when it's someone in a supervisory position and it's a blatant attempt to make someone feel uncomfortable, it's wrong.

Okay, enough venting.

My mind's been on horses again lately. Big, strapping draft horses with feathered hooves and long flowing manes. I don't know why it is that when I allow my mind to drift, it always wanders back to them. There has been speculation, by persons I won't identify, that it's the lack of a strong male presence in my life, the need for protection and someone to aid in carrying life's load. I don't know if that's it or not. I just know that when I can't sleep, my mind takes me to the back of a grand steed with muscular legs and immense power, yet the gentle rhythm of his hooves hitting the rocky path, that sound, rocks me to sleep.

Maybe it's the stress at work, the fear of snakes in Frog Pond Holler that haunts me every summer, my lifelong need to feel protected or just a longing for something as simple as a quiet ride at dusk to ease my worries.

We're watching "Supernova" on television. Jill just sang Heart's "Alone." She's not one of my favorites to win, but I have to give her kudos. That one gave me gooseflesh.

I can hear the collective eyeroll beginning as I say this but... Ya'll really missed something if you didn't see Craig Ferguson lay that big, sloppy liplock on Bonnie Raitt last night. Makes me feel the need to dye my hair red, dust off the old guitar and hop a plane to L.A. Oh don't get ya'lls britches in a bunch, I don't have any plans like that. But dang.

Ya'll try to find a cool spot. I'll be in the kitchen with my head stuck in the freezer.

Later Taters.