Out on a Limb

I’m sorry I’ve been absent so long. I’m going on the third week of Hell Month, except my month is actually five weeks long. Today I only had to work twelve hours and when I got home I discovered I had extra time on my hands. What to do? I could clean my room. It’s a disaster. Or I could take care of business from home. But that’s too much like work.

I could climb a tree.

Yes. You heard me.

Climb. A. Tree.

This is what exhaustion does to you: it makes crazy ideas seem logical.

While changing clothes, I looked out my second story bedroom window and spied apricots growing on the tree that grows along the fenceline.

Apricots.

August.

They glowed orangish, tempting. Big succulent orbs of juicy fruity apricot-ness.

I tugged on my shorts and tennies.

Safety caught me at the door. “Where’re you going?”

“There’s an apricot tree out there.”

Her brow furrowed. “So?”

“Get a basket or a trash bag or something.”

Awareness dawned. “No,” she said firmly. “No. No. No.
Hopping on one foot, I pulled the other sneaker over my heel. “Yes,” I said, “Yes, yes, yes.”

Fifteen minutes later, with branches spearing my breast, I perched in the fork of the tree. Damn fruit was all out on the ends of limbs, just out of my reach. Okay. Well out of my reach.

“You’re crazy, Stella.”

“I am NOT crazy. I want an apricot. I’m getting an apricot. That’s not crazy.”

“Why don’t you get one of these on the low branches?”

“There aren’t any on the low branches,” I snarked.

She moved into sight, biting into a perfectly formed, fuzzy, fruit.  “There’s a whole bunch down here on this side.”

Dang it. I didn’t look on that side.

Slowly I exited the tree, scraping my chest, elbows, knees and one leg all the way down to my ankle. Safety looked at the peeled skin and shook her head. “Pshss. You’re crazy.”

I don't know. Maybe she’s right.