Photo by Goldring (Creative Commons)
A friend of mine lives in the country, and her old farmhouse is surrounded by acres of trees, which on summer nights are full of twinkling fireflies. Before she built a deck off her 2nd floor bedroom, we used to climb out her bedroom window to sit on the porch roof with a bottle of wine just to watch them.
We went there on Friday. Some of us picked blackberries while others made pies, barbequed, and laid out dozens of salads. The house was full of people, as were both porches and the yard. The people were mostly writers, lawyers for special causes, and other passionate folk who seem to love what they do.
It was marvelous, like drinking limoncello straight from the bottle.
I especially enjoyed joining the upstairs-porch crew of wonderfully-eccentric, uncensored, pissed-off women. I came in just as a woman wearing a pink cowboy hat with sequins was half-way through an animated story about dog-poop, jerks who steal parking spaces, and other perils of downtown living.
I didn’t catch half their names, but it was a total trip listening to women who get even more irate about things than I do, have no interest in being reasonable, and would frankly make very alarming neighbors.
And who Just. Don’t. Care.
All of these wonderful, firefly people have something I want, and these women in particular were living something like my own suppressed female “id”, with no apologies whatsoever.
To be honest, it was very refreshing.
I suspect that I too would love to tell someone that if their dog craps in my yard just ONE MORE TIME, I’m going to get out my gun and blow their fucking heads off.
In my universe, though, I’d just get sent to jail!!
Don’t miss the cool firefly links, at right!