SWEET

Strawberries in February. 

 

Strawberries in February, in the frigid, frosty Northeast?

Yay or nay?

I am gazing at a supermarket display of boxed fruit, imaging how disappointing the first bite of one of those ruby red berries could be when a woman I haven't seen since summer taps me on the shoulder.

 

"December 19th," she says, as she maneuvers a colossal head of cauliflower into a flimsy plastic bag.

I do not roll my eyes. (Or maybe I do.) I haven't seen this woman in months and she rolls right past the obvious response - "Great to see you!" - to utter a date that has no significance to me.

A date that obviously should have significance to me.  

Ambushed between berries and broccoli, I attempt a swift mental rewind of the week before Christmas. What meeting, call, appointment, cookie swap, deadline, school party, sporting event, secret Santa session, or gathering did I miss?

Oh, I forget. Mental rewind doesn't work when employed by a brain with faultily functioning memory.

"December 19th?" I stammer, hoping the ball I dropped was ping-pong sized - as opposed to the scale of those rainbow-colored orbs that take the collective force of a dozen elementary school kids to roll across the playground.

"December 19th was the last time you posted as Quing of the World," the woman said. "What's up with that?"

Now, dear Reader, this exchange would have been much less bothersome to me had she been the first to mention my Quingly failings.

I assure you. She was not.  

Even though I have been avoiding all social (and anti-social) media since the New Year, I am quite well aware that relinquishing my Quingly pen (keyboard) has caused some consternation.  

I could lie to you. Make excuses for my failings. Most Great Rulers would.

Instead, I will tell you the truth.

My absence was initiated by funk (as in, "I was in a ...") and exacerbated by mess (as in, "My office is a ...").

And who amongst us manages a mess when in a funk?  Some rulers (i.e. Congress) can't even manage a mess while breathing.

Frankly, I knew it would take something BIG to inspire me to ditch my many daily duties and wade through an office cluttered with wrapping paper and ribbons, manuscripts, novel notes, research maps, journals, school papers, unanswered correspondence, photographs, recipes, and sticky notes scribbled with characters, plot lines, blog bits, and appointments that need to be made.   

It would take something huge. Unimaginable.

Like the 1 in 100 million chance that an asteroid would just miss earth on the very same day that a meteor explodes over Russia.

Or a pope abdicating his throne - for the first time in 598 years.

Seriously. Who amongst us abandons a throne?

Worse yet, who abandons readers?

Surely not I!

Dear Reader, I bought those berries. Then I ditched the funk, cleared the office, and picked up my pen.

Strawberries in February and Quing on the March.

Sweet!