text: I am a peasant woman, simple and kind, one of few but many am I. I enjoy poetry and will continue this rhyme. My drink the sun and eat the time, boredom is my only burden and no authority other than the seasons. I am free to live according to my needs, sunlight, moonlight, and little bread, and a lot of cheese. Now I find myself on the precipice of disaster. I seem to have drawn attention to myself. Unfortunately. Not that I dislike affection, I dislike the affectionate. Those that make their careers out of it. Ooo, it makes my skin crawl. I’m endangered. Or so they say. Yet I don’t feel like I’m in danger. Well, outside of them. They poke and prod with questions and needles. “Oh, what a wonderful specimen!” they giggle with glee. I swear they’re like the schoolchildren across the stream, always laughing and running and playing, but never at other’s expense like these red-kneed beans. Beans. That’s what they look like to me, long, pale, gangly little beans all pripped and trimmed to look all dainty and proper when all they do is get their hands dirty. When they forget their gloves of course. God forgive they actually get dirty for once, as if I have anything to offer them, oh no perish the thought. Indeed. Indeed, that’s all they think of me, just a bumbling bumbling old coot who can’t take care of herself. Now let me tell you something so that you may tell them that something for me, “I”, now I want you to say this verbatim mind you, I mean it I’ll be listening young man, or young woman, or whatever you lovely dears call yourselves these days, “I can take care of myself thank you very much, but I appreciate your efforts which on occasion are genuine and I truly hope with all that I can provide that you live a healthy and prosperous life my beloved children!” Oh. Oh my. I, I hope that wasn’t too harsh. Oh goodness gracious me it was wasn’t it! Oh, my I simply let my temper get the best of me sometimes I swear there’s a hurricane swarming through my head every minute the ghastly things. I truly am sorry my child, I didn’t mean to snap at you, or them, it’s just...sometimes mother needs a break from all this, and there’s so little space left for me to escape to. I swear to the Lord in heaven there isn’t a place left that isn’t too hot or too cold for me to catch a breath in. Well, at least I have my baths. And my children, whom I love you, all of you, oh so much. Not like that man upstairs. Goodness gracious, I truly am sorry for the poor old man, but gracious me he’s as dense as a stone! Please don’t tell him I said that though love, we’ve been neighbors for a long time and I’d hate for things to get awkward now. You know my dear, I had this entire story planned for you to write out and edit for me, but the strangest thing happened. I simply let the story be. Yes, yes I suppose I did, yes! Hahaha, after all the advice my children have given me over the millennia about sentence structure, and syntax, and narrative consistency you’d think some of it would stick every now and again wouldn’t it. Oh, but it is not so my dear. For, and you’ll never hear me admit this again so if you write it down it’ll be in your words not mine my dear, I’m as dense as our neighbor, (whom I shall not name mind you, he has a terrible eavesdropping habit, the old coot) ((whom I love very much if he’s listening, which of course he is, what else would you be doing this time in the day you old coot)) (((I still love you very much though, see you tonight same time same place as usual I hope!))). Oh, what was I saying my dear? I swear these millennia are catching up to me. I can’t keep up with all my children and everything they’re doing. I can scarcely keep up with myself. I know I don’t look it my child, but I’m old. I’m very old. And I’m tired. I’m oh so tired. You know it’s the funniest thing my dear. I intended this story to be an example of my very special boy William, who’s last-name I always thought was a bit silly mind you but don’t tell him I said that he really is a very special boy whom always made your mother laugh, as do all my children mind you in their own way, but some of you are so silly goodness gracious you take it all so seriously, I’m glad to have birthed all of you, oh, goodness, as silly as that sounds, hahah perhaps the apples don’t fall far from the tree after all! Oh, what was I saying, oh yes! I intended for this to be an allegorical story about a simple peasant woman’s rural way of life being threatened by novelty and how metaphorical it is to my experience when my wayward children’s latest fad about parental care comes about. I intended this to be a very good story, I had it all thought out and asked one of my daughters how she felt about it and please do tell her I love her so much, in particular love her so much, not that any of you are loved more or less than the other, you’re all very special to me in your own special ways and I love you oh so much and...! Oh, goodness me. What am I trying to say to my beloved child? Oh yes, do not worry where you’re going my child, you’ll always be with me, and even if your story doesn’t make sense, it’ll always be yours, and you will always be mine. Well, the neighbors up and about, (as if he wasn’t before), so it’s about time for me to retire for the evening. Goodnight my dear, I’ll miss you ever so much. I love you.