Autumn Fantasy

Here’s how my brain works:

I’m out in the front yard blowing leaves and thinking of a scenario. Leaf clean-up is something John usually does, and when he gets home from his office (Panera), he’ll see the piles of leaves along the curb and say, “Oh, wow! You raked the leaves.”

To which I’ll reply, “No, two college guys came by and offered to do it for free if I’d have sex with them.”

He laughs.

“That’s not funny,” I’ll say and pout. “Why would that be funny?”

And as I continue swinging the leaf blower through the oak leaves all by myself, my brain pictures two wide-shouldered young men, maybe with longish hair, working that blower, oh wait, there’d have to be two blowers. I’ll invite them in for cookies. Hmmm, I need to get some cookies in the house. Thin Oreos are really good.

But maybe there should be only one blower boy. Two is  sorta scary.

I’m working leaves into a flurry…giving them a blow job, and there’s the lightbulb moment. A blow job…hee hee.

I’m thinking about writing these thoughts down, so now I’m wondering about Mail Chimp, the mailing service I use to send out my blogs. Will they bump my mailing if I  just titled it, “Blow Job”? Probably.

But now there’s a distraction.

My neighbor’s wife is leaving her house. I wave and feel sad for her family. Her husband had colon cancer and went through chemo and radiation last year, and now he has Myasthenia Gravis. That’s really rough. Two of my great uncles died from it. One was Henry, who took me for ice cream one day and walking back from the corner store, the ice cream popped out of the cone, so he took me back for a new scoop. He died when I was about seven. Rob (whom I called Bubs) was my favorite of ALL my adult male family members. The father character in “A Bird in the House” was partly based on Bubs. He died when I was nineteen. Myasthenia Gravis is a terrible disease.

Well, that’s depressing.

Uncle Bubs with my brother Tom

Back to the blower boys…no, just one—Blower Boy.

Right now, I’m thinking if someone came along and wanted to do the leaf blowing for free, I’d say no. It’s invigorating. Being out in the slight chill, smelling Autumn. Remember when we burned leaves at our curbs? I’m glad we stopped doing that. My lungs couldn’t take it. The environment would be further hurt. Climate Change would get worse.

Burning leaves pops in another thought that disrupts the blow job fantasy.

Half of my high school freshman year (Palo Alto) and half of senior year (San Mateo) were in California. My brother, both of my children and my granddaughter were born in California.

California is burning. Whole towns have turned to ash. People have been trapped in melting cars. I cry. Sorrow enfolds me. A big part of my heart is in California. And meanwhile, our president is blaming the fires on poor forestry methods, and is texting about cutting aid funding to the state.

But I can’t be thinking about that. My heart might break right out here on my front lawn.

Back to the blow job.

The yard is just about de-leafed, and so the boy would come in for his treat. Geez, now I’m thinking that sounds a little Hansel and Gretel-ish. Okay re-think that.

The young MAN comes into the house, and I give him some cookies and a hot cup of cocoa with marshmallows. Hmm, I have no marshmallows (or cookies). Okay,  so he gets a cup of coffee.

And brain…my brain…my damn brain, hears the cute guy say, “Thanks. You know, you remind me of my grandma.”




19 Replies to “Autumn Fantasy”

  1. WOW ! I like the way your brain thinks.
    Part of the way that Trump guy thinks is——-he never thinks !
    He doesn’t know the Pacific is rising, that eventually California
    will fall into it.
    In Michigan we are fortunate to have leaves—–because we have
    trees and rain.
    AND I also like the way you think about OTHER THINGS !!!!

  2. What a delightful sense of humor…..would be fun to be friends with you…..well… least I am with Ann!!! What a great way to end (almost) my day…..with a smile and a chuckle and more giggles as I think of your wonderful imagination! ahh we can all dream….can’t we? And, actually….that’s my job….blowing ‘SOME’ leaves…and it is fun. Thanks for the smiles….needed that right about now.
    Best Always from Ann’s friend Lee
    PS. must find A Bird in the House…. L

  3. Damn reality😢 I’ll believe your fantasy was possible. Sorry about your neighbor. Life can be overwhelming. The President’s response to any of the horrendous tragedies that have happened over and over shows his lack of compassion and understanding. How was he raised? Was no one ever kind to him?

    1. Linda, I really think that Trump is mentally ill, with narcissistic personality disorder. Could be genetic. No matter what, I think he is extremely dangerous to our democracy.

  4. This tells me why, in spite of distance and sometimes a long long time between contacts, we stay friends.
    Do you know when we became friends? I do. On the first day we met and I came to interview you about a book you had written.
    We walked into your living room and there was a wonderful swing.
    I had never seen a swing in a living room. And while I asked about the book, and asked the right questions, all I could really think about was, “who is this woman with the little kids and a swing in her living room?”
    Do you remember when we shared and office? Do you remember when I learned you were a painter as well as a writer? I do.
    I am remembering today because I will be 84 on the 14th of November. 84. That is a surprise to me.
    With love,

    1. Nancy, Happy birthday (almost). And of course, I remember your interviewing me, and our sharing an office, and me painting your daughter Jenny. Love you, my dear old friend

  5. I love the way your mind works, too, Lynn. And I especially love that our fantasies have a reality check to them. The same things can happen to mine. It’s a little after 8 pm and I am going to smile for the rest of the night over what’s in your mind–the blow job and the cookies and a young man who probably also loves his grandma.

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