My Writing Education

It's been a couple of days since that beauty parlor lady filled Nilda in on my need for some writing education, which resulted in Nilda bringing me a bag of books from the library. Jumpin’ golly gee whiz, but now I know why that bag of books was behind the library instead of in it. If that was the kind of literature that beauty parlor lady reads, there’s a lot about her that nobody knows.

Now before I commenced to reading those books Nilda said I should pay careful attention to certain things in them, which she then proceeded to list out for me. Things like symbolism, characterization, plot lines, similes, imagery, syntax, metaphors, grammatical construction and the like. You’d a thought I was one of them little water bobbers you put on the edge of a glass of water, like we used to buy at the carnival when it would come to the Gulch, the way my head was a noddin’ up and down in a agreement with what she was sayin’.

But as you most likely know by now, I didn’t have a idear as to what Nilda was a sayin’. However, I got to say that since I read every page of every one of them books, not just once, but several times so as I could absorb all them literature education materials, relations between me an Nilda has improved most spectacularly, so leastways some of it might useful.

I’ve got to admit that much of it was more than I could figure out, especially when it came to all them peaks, pink pebbles, proud nubbins, sweet lava flowing, simultaneous explosions, ragged gasps (though with that one I thought I remembered Tomato Blossom :):):) mentioning something about them, though she was breathin’ so heavy at the moment I’m not sure if that was what she was talkin’ about).

Some of them words and figures of speech things in the literature I could figure out for myself. Like “reclaimed her mouth”, for takin’ her to the dentist, or, "feeding from the sweetness of her mouth", like when me and Nilda would share a fresh picked strawberry. And doin' that was definitely one of them similes Nilda told me watch out for, cause we both always got a big one on our faces after we ate that strawberry.

I will say them author ladies of them stories must have a mite of a problem holding on to where they are going with them literature stories, what with more stuff gettin’ spilt from more places by them characters they was a writin’ about, than by a bunch of blind bricklayers buildin’ a church steeple. And all that goes with leavin’ out the eruptions, spasms, waves, crests, undulations, and convulsions that they seemed to be a sufferin’ though on a regular basis, commencing about half way through each of them books.

I figured that the best way to understand all that was to try my hand at writin’ some of it my self. It took a few try’s, but once I got the hang of it, it weren’t no problem being a near on literary genius. Figurin’ the best thing I could do was to show that gossip lady at the beauty parlor that I was just as good a writer as all them literature gals she was a wanting me to write like, I took her a copy of my latest, which were a little piece I wrote about what the gossip lady’s life is like from the literature standpoint.

When I told her that I had takin’ the words to heart she had said to Nilda about my writing and I wanted her to read my new and improved literature writing technique, she got a little uppity, then finally took the papers from my hand. I sure wanted to see the look on her face when saw just how improved my writing was, but after just a bit, her face was getting’ hard to see atall, what with it turnin’ such a dark shade of red.

Next thing I know, she is right up in my face a yellin’ something, about “I never’, and “How could you ever think’”, and a whole bunch of other stuff I couldn’t understand. Though the, “Get out of my house, you pervert” that she yelled just before she pushed me out the door and slammed it was uncalled for since I was already a high tailin’ it out of there.

One thing I didn’t understand was why if she was so riled up, was she a clutching herself in them places like so many of the ladies in those literature pieces did, while still a holdin’on to my pages. Leastaways that’s what I thought I saw as I was roundin’ the back corner of her house, a headin’ back to Ol’ 5th Wheel, when I accidentally looked into her window. Guess even with the readin’ of all that literature, I’ll still never get the hang of the hows of womenfolk thinking.

Lots of Comments and Comments of Lots

This here RV blogger thing is really gettin’ me excited. It’s givin’ me new insites into what ways me and Nilda can live this mobile, mobile home lifestyle we been a workin’ at all this time. The other day we got a comment from a longtime follower of this blog, which considerin’ the fact I only been a writin’ it since early in February ain’t sayin’ much, but then, Old Jack Daniels once had only cooked off a batch or two of whiskey, and it must have been some time till he got to No. 7.

So just exactly what was this fellars comment? He come up with the idea of savin’ money by buyin’ some small piece of land and by putting an outhouse on it, we would have a place where could stay cheap, but have all the comforts of home. Obviously he didn’t know what life up on the gulch was like or he wouldn’t a been sayin’ that, but it still got me to thinkin’.

Here we been traveling around the country fer a number of years, a doing our thing, makin’ mistakes an breakin’ down about as often as them 60 minutes fellers is on TV, but what about them folks that is a sittin’ in their living rooms, a reading all these here blogs and a dreaming of a joining us some day. It’s like when you are not livin’ the mobile, mobile home life, you want to give up your patch of land and house, and live in something about the size of a pea pod that eats gas like a hog that just got a big bucket of slop.

Then once you get out here on this so called heavenly rode of bliss, you learn right quick that if you ain’t broke down, you are about to get broke down, or that fancy RV park ain’t nowhere near as nice as the pictures showed it to be, if they even got a spot when you show up hours after you thought you was gonna get there. And that’s leavin’ out all the things that happen when you pull into a town where you don’t have the foggiest idea where anything is at.

So, it ain’t long before that rosie picture of the idleic life on the road begins to start a lookin’ a might frazzled around the edges. All them folks a sittin’ out on their front porches as you wander, lost, down the highways of life are lookin mighty happy compared to you and the wife, who by this time, if she’s still a speakin’ to you, is a tellin’ you to go to places that womenfolk ain’t even supposed to know about, let alone talk about.

Still, what this feller mentioned was something that ain’t to far from any mobile, mobile home person’s heart, which is the idea that on whatever side of the manure pile you are standing , it probably don’t smell as bad on the other side. Course truth is that no sooner do you skedaddle over to the other side than you discover it smells just the same.

Bottom line, which is something that jailer fellow taught me all about when I was a gettin’ my degree, is that each of us has got to live this life the way we want, and if it don’t measure up to some other fellers idea, it's okay. Look at all them people up on the Gulch that weren’t near as successful as me and Nilda. That don’t mean their unhappy, it just means they look at things a mite different. So we’ll let that fellar dream of his piece of land and security, but for Nilda and me, the open road and most likely, the next parts and repair shop beckons.