never have liked oatmeal all that much


we have lived in a hurricane of activity the past 72 hours. focused, but nevertheless chaotic. in my head right now, a small jeanne wears hip boots, and tromps  around in a large vat of squishy oatmeal (steel cut, of course. and no sugar.) in search of words and phrases that can be pieced together to tell the story.


she finds no words or phrases, this tiny bootclad jeanne, only oats.


tomorrow, perhaps. after another 11 hour sleep, maybe then i’ll be past the oatmeal effect and will be back to tell you my . . . our . . . story.

You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a comment, or trackback from your own site.
  • emma

    I love oatmeal with honey and raisins. Because I thought you could use some random facts.
    Sweet dreams, chica.

  • Square-Peg Karen

    I am all ears, lady. Can't wait for you to get outta that oatmeal and tell your story! You're one of my favorite story-telling folks!

    p.s. you would look so damn fine in hip boots, I just KNOW it!!

  • Julie Daley

    mine is fine with raspberries…

  • Dian Reid

    oh, how i'm looking forward to seeing what comes of this wading through oatmeal and what effect it has on you and your story…


  • Jennifer Prentice

    Cannot wait to hear the results of the wading. I bet your words will be that much better covered in oatmeal! =)