Notes

I can't blog because I am embarking on a career as a really, really bad naturalist. Here are some photos I have been taking, and some notes on each.



A plant thought it was clever—very, very clever in fact—and thought that it would sit and wait for me to get very close and then that it would spit on me. I did not let this plant spit on me even though it really wanted to and was sitting there waiting for me to get close so it could spit.

Got you, plant. You were unable to spit on me and instead I got a photo of your awaiting to be spat spit.



BEE! This stupid bee got into my shot when I was trying to take a picture of flowers! Stupid bee! Leave me alone, stupid bee!

Bees are very angry creatures, and are often referred to by people who know as the "jerks of the animal kingdom." One time I was riding down a bike trail on my way to where I do my work, and a bee ran into my chest and stung me. And it was the bee's fault because the bee did not look both ways when it crossed the bike trail. It just went across the trail and I ran into it—because I did not see it and it was not paying attention!—and then it stung my chest.

And then it died. Bees are jerks.



This flower was coming on to me. I don't know why. I was walking by it and it started to change color and tell me through telepathy—or something—that I should take its photo and show it to my friends who read my blog. (That's you!) It said I should snap a picture of it. I did. I snapped a picture and here it is. And I think you can see what I mean about this flower coming on to me.

I have a serious relationship already, flower. I am not attainable by you for the purposes of dating me.



This plant is very full of poison and should never, ever be eaten by me. Never ever again should it be eaten by me because it is full of a strong, strong purple poison that makes me talk about things I don't want to talk about when I am on the phone to my mother. Like, Hi Mom, I ate a bad plant and it thinks I should tell you about all the times I used to take drugs in the basement where we lived. And Hi Mom, I ate a poison purple plant that wants me to tell you about when I used to go to our neighbor's houses and hide under their beds and listen to them get ready for bed and fall asleep, and then I'd get out from under their beds when I was sure they were sound asleep and I would touch their lips really really gently with my index finger. I won't eat this plant again.



BEE! The same bee is following me and getting into more photos in a subversive manner where you can only just see its stupid, stupid bee colors and I hate it! I hate the bee!



I have nothing to say about this flower because I am still mad at it.

I'm not kidding. I am still mad at it about what it did.

It knows what it did.

It knows.



This is a very nice mold formation. It is swoopy, which is a nice way for mold to bloom, I think.

I think a lot of things about mold. But when a mold is swoopy, I think really clear, happy, and good thoughts about it.

I do.

I am happy about this mold. It makes up for the bad thing that the previous-to-this-mold-stupid-flower did.

I am not a blogger, but I think I am a "budding naturalist" (which is a pun that you might catch if you reread that two-word phrase, folks).

So maybe there will be more notes.

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I will be reading tomorrow and you can go. (Thanks to The Stranger for the kind words.)

The final hardcover copy will be given away to the person who gets the highest score on one of the pinball machines at The College Inn Pub.

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I am teaching a class at The Richard Hugo House called The Voices of Anxious Objects. (Last description.) Right now it doesn't have the necessary five students for the class to actually happen. If you are interested, please sign up. I think it will be fun.

***

I sort of knew this guy in college.

***

There will, in a couple of months maybe, be a reprint of my sold-out novella A Jello Horse. As the first batch sold mainly to my friends and relations, the second batch will very likely necessitate outreach to people who haven't heard of me to sell.

Meaning: wanna review the book for a local print or online outlet? Or interview me? Want I should guest blog?

I am happy to become a dancing monkey to help get the book some more attention.

CONTACT ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO REVIEW THE BOOK AND WE CAN ARRANGE SOME SORT OF REVIEW COPY OR PDF OF THE FINAL.

happy
cobra
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