Cat calls | Main | Spring broken Â
April 07, 2004
Everybody'a gotta learn sometime
I discovered some correspondence from my little gnome friend this morning. A tiny note, beside a tiny hat and scarf, all neatly folded of course. It read as such:
" Summering in Bali,
I was not meant to stay in one place for long.
For we gnomes are silly creatures,
and our affections swift and fickle.
Please do not write.
- Your onetime sockdrawer friend"
At first, I was disheartened to read such things. I guess I had already assumed he was off on his travels, but I was a little saddened to know for sure. But then, I came around. Surely, my sock drawer has nothing on the delightful balmy pleasures that Bali has to offer. It was nice of him to let me know. Thoughtful. He must have known I was wondering.
I will honor his request, to a degree - for though I will not write to him, I will write of him at my discretion, as I have done in this instance.
But this may, perhaps, be the last time I do so. I do not know for sure.
What I do know is that I have moved all my socks and underthings to a new drawer, so that the old one can remain closed until I have forgotten why I closed it in the first place.
Should he ever return, he would find his old drawer colder and less welcoming that it had been before. But I don't really think he will.
Perhaps he'll peer in through my window some night on his return from the Pacific, loaded down with pint sized suitcases and a tiny gnome camera slung around his neck. His cold weather gear of old exchanged for bright blue and yellow floral prints, shell necklaces, leather sandals. Small, small sandals. Perhaps he'll reflect one day on the time he spent in my drawer, want to jump out and scare me, or think of I joke I would laugh at. Or maybe he's gone for good. Cozying up in the drawer of some friendly islander, surrounded by the scents of bananas and coconuts, or in a hammock somewhere. Maybe he's forgotten my drawer completely by now.
I do not know, in truth, and soon enough I will not care.
But anything's possible.
Posted by kati at April 7, 2004 01:05 PM
Comments
Kati, I have to know the answer to this question. What kind of line is the vertical line between your diary entries and your picture/calendar/archives/links supposed to be? I've noticed that I can make it show up as a consistent dotted line by scrolling up and down your page quickly, a solid or nearly-solid line by scrolling verrrrry slowly, or any number of inconsistent dotted-lines of various sizes and spacings of dots by scrolling at different speeds. Not like optical illusions that happen while I'm scrolling, but rather, the quality of line that I see after I stop depends on how I was scrolling.
What the hell?
Posted by: dianna at April 7, 2004 01:33 PM
Shoot. That wasn't supposed to be posted twice.
Posted by: dianna at April 7, 2004 01:33 PM
hm. stays dashed for me.
Posted by: didofoot at April 7, 2004 02:09 PM
I'm glad that you finally heard from your little friend. The fact that he wrote you may indicate that he's going to come back someday, even if for a little while, just to crash in your drawer when he overstays his welcome at his little gnome friends' drawers and hit you up for some money because he spent it all on liquor and gnome-escorts. You'll see, they all come crawling back sooner or later.
Posted by: Kristina at April 7, 2004 02:20 PM
Diana - I wish I could give you more info about the dotted line. It's straight from a moveable type template, so I honestly don't know much about it. It seems to stay dashed when I scroll, too, so I'm not sure why it has such an effect when you scroll. Put the crackpipe down and try again ... ;)
Kristina - Yes, who knows. He may return and try to hit me up for cash at some point. Silly little financially irresponsible gnomes ... I would give him a disapproving look, and then probably give in. Which is why I can never be a parent. No discipline.
Posted by: kati at April 7, 2004 06:01 PM
Oh, I'll be back... yes... I'll be back. Muwaaaahaaaaahaaaaa
Posted by: gnome at April 16, 2004 11:12 AM