One of those weird
and hopefully very wonderful scenarios,
I promised Johnny
*o*
The other day I was so very, very tired of the Danish winter weather with its storms and rain
and generally human-hostile conditions ...
So I suggested to my sweet Johnny that we removed our self to an imaginary
wood where there is eternally summer with all that entails of warm sunshine, cooling fragrant breezes, bird song and other
pleasant things.
Johnny agreed whole heartedly with that plan coming from a warmer climate himself.
But when
he saw the white stallion, I wanted him to ride, and noticed how it pranced around and acted up, my boy looked
a bit apprehensive and said, we could also just wear woolen hats, gloves and mufflers, when we went outside.
I didnīt quite
know what to say to that, since I had this beautiful image in my mind eye of my gorgeous prince riding this
white charger bareback only wearing a pair of tight black knee pants and a thin golden chain around his neck
... sorry,
I had to wipe away the slobber from my chin. It is not so healthy for computer keyboards if it drips down between the
keys -o*
Johnny shook his head a bit embarrassed at that idea. And asked, if his green old bike couldnīt do the trick.
And as for the clothes - those pants pinched.
But he had a pair of old well worn brown shorts - those with knee length
legs - he could wear. Unfortunately the gold chain was also out ... Lefty had borrowed it for safe keeping
the last time they were together and Donnie - I mean, Johnny - hadnīt seen it since.
Here I felt like throwing myself on
the ground kicking and screaming, when suddenly another - much smaller - horse came up and pushed its head gently against
my shoulder.
"Or" my sweetie smiled "we could both ride on Gunpowder. He always behaves so sweetly when he has you on his
back. And I could wear ... the red shorts you love so much. They are at least "built for moving"
So the "good horsy" transported
us in through the green fragrant wood. ... and the white stallion went off in a offended huff whinnying something about some
- very common - people having no taste at all !!!
But Johnny and I didnīt care. Instead we listen to squirrels
chattering about the latest sales on nuts over in the southern part of the wood. And two rabbits told us Bugs Bunny would
come and visit next week because his sisterīs auntīs brother-in-lawīs best friendsī grandmother (real close family as you
can see) was turning 102.
A very respectable age even for an imaginary rabbit indeed -O*
Finally we ended up at a small
lake in the wood. Over at the far side a rocky out cropping shot up. And here a water fall added to the beauty of the site.
I asked my boy if he would add to the beauty too and go skinny dipping with me. "Totally butt naked" Johnny marveled "I
would scare all the little wood trolls out of their wits and the small birdies out of their feathers" my silly boy giggled
embarrassed
But bit by bit with a combination of tickling and caressing, kissing and licking I did managed to
strip Johnny down to only wearing a bit of goosebumps. ... and believe you me, folks!! My imaginary Johnny tastes way better
than any old computer screen!!! ... he tastes of chocolate, of course - tshee-hee *o*
By this time we had ended up out
in the water. Gunpowder left mumbling something about respecting peopleīs privacy if respecting nothing else. And that he
was really a decent horse! Which I think, he certainly is *O*
So I will leave the rest of this scene up to you imagination.
.... wow, those imaginations could use a bit of cleaning too, I think? I have never in my life done that !!! ... I am
not nearly limber enough *O*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After all the splashing and other really pleasant things Johnny and I walked slowly and peacefully back
through the wood looking for Gunpowder.
And I suggested, we should come back another time and find us a tree for
Christmas. Johnny nodded happily when I said "come back another time" But when I went on he suddenly looked sad.
I
kissed his cheek and want to know what was wrong. At first he wouldnīt tell, but then he confess, that he didnīt much liked
the idea of killing a tree to use it for decoration a week or two and then throw it out.
Ainīt he just the sweetest
*O*
So now a very proud tree stands out in the wood decorated from top to bottom with all the Christmas ornaments we
have. ... if the squirrels and magpies havenīt borrow the finery for their own homes, that is -o*
