The Last Throws

It's a gray, overcast day in early November, and I'm at the local department store witnessing a scene that will doubtless be written about in the morning papers. It's a recurring dream that I've never had, so I watch with fascination as dozens of women scuffle over lightweight bedclothes. There's hair-pulling, back biting, twisting of arms... all manner of mayhem. I can only watch for a moment, and then I turn away to go about my business. I come back thirty minutes later, and the women are still at it, but with much less vigor. They spend more time looking at the fabric, at the patterns, and less time fighting. I turn to the store manager, who is standing next to me, and ask him what's going on. He turns to me and says "They're in the last throws, if you will."

At this point, I would wake up. If I could. If this was actually a dream, and not just some awful pun I thought up. But life gives you what it gives you. You run with what you have, unless it's scissors. Or milk and cookies, which you would actually want to sit down and enjoy. And I'd say "but I digress," right about now, but I have yet to establish a point, a main thesis, a topic. If you will. One thinks I might get there yet.

At this hour of the day, pacific standard time, the fingers rebel against the brain and refuse to act in an orderly fashion. Thus, it might take more time than usual to type certain words, since the fingers insist on getting the letters out of order. Not only do they do this the first time, but they frequently repeat the mistake two or three times. Alas, there is no disciplinary action that one can perform on fingers. Slap them? Hit them over the knuckles with a ruler? These seem like counter-productive ideas, so I will pay them no mind.

It's a traveling day, as we head into the hills in search of apples. I'm told that this will not be a difficult task, as the area to which we're headed is called "Apple Hill." There should be plenty of apples, and we're hoping that they'll not be out of donuts, as they were last time. The girls -- our daughter and her best friend -- will probably spend plenty of time looking at "stuff," like jewelry, and perhaps my wife and I will have a chance to taste some wine. And I'm sure there will be apples in there somewhere, as well as a donut. If you will.