Jill Smolinski – Sillyfrog's Blog

Random words by creativitygames.net.

bingle…candle…guide…vinegar…ladder

Here’s my story:

It was just a bingle. A bingle …Ha! Josie hadn’t heard that term since Little League. A bingle wouldn’t have made blood run down her forehead.

She was lying on the bathroom floor with a blood soaked towel on her head. Donna had told her that the collision with the cupboard door had been only a bingle. SHE WASN’T THE ONE BLEEDING TO DEATH.

Josie climbed the vanity like a ladder to get to her feet. Looking up was way too painful so she let the dried droplets on the floor guide her back to the kitchen. When she pushed through the swinging doors, the odor of vinegar stopped her as suddenly as the cupboard had done. A spilled bottle lay at her feet. The place was in shambles. Where was Donna? What had happened?

The last thing she remembers was having their book club meeting. The wine and cheese were both going down very well. She’d stayed up to read the remainder of “The Next Thing On My List” by Jill Smolinski the night before. It was a great read with a poignant message to keep trying new things. Josie never had a concussion before but she doubted that a concussion was on anyone’s list. She giggled at the thought then grabbed her head. Ouch!

“Donna?”

It came out like a whisper.

“Donna, yo Donna!”

The candle on the table was taking its last breath when Donna came in carrying a stack of books.

“Whoa…what happened to you?” Donna clearly had not remembered her “bingle”.

“I walked into the damn cupboard door. THAT’S what.”

“You Okay?”

Josie just waved at her and smiled.

” Better get you cleaned up. This kitchen needs first aid too. Book club is in an hour.”

Josie suddenly realized that her late night read had been the culprit. She’d been exhausted and regretted the Saturday morning book date because of the work load she’d had all week at the office. Wow…she’d hit her head and dreamed up the whole scenario while spending part of the night on the floor. She sighed and realized that this must be what crazy feels like. Now THAT was a new experience.

Josie shook it off and decided to forget the whole event. She was feeling better and Donna had a way of getting overly concerned.

“So, what book are we reading next, my friend?”

“Oh yeah, it’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Thought feeling crazy would be something new to try.”

Josie laughed and looked at the ceiling, “Let’s hurry and clean this place up. Think it’s too early for wine?”

I was sitting at my kitchen table with three friends. We were snacking on potato chips. A lull in the conversation inspired me to examine my chip.

“Is this a chip or a crumb?” I asked the group. They all responded, “Chip”.

Then I took a bite of it. “Well?” The group had a variety of responses and the discussion came to life.

We sat and pondered the criteria that each individual used to reach a conclusion. One member insisted that in order to be called a potato chip it had to have a roundness. I suggested that a chip was anything that could withstand dipping beyond my clasped forefinger and thumb. We all then agreed immediately that dipping rules can vary and it depended whether the dipping were at home or in public. Everyone knows that “home dipping” allows the fingers to touch the dip and “public dipping” does not.

There are so many ways to consider things that it amazes me how people have such a close idea of undefined measurements. Society and experiences must be out training ground.

If you ask a four-year old about porcupines, they all tell you that the sharp quills are called “porks”. No exceptions! Their grasp of language rules and concepts is greater than their understanding of the world itself.

Our book club got together this month to discuss “The Next Thing on My List” by Jill Smolinski. It is about a woman who becomes the custodian of a list of accomplishments another woman has written and hopes to complete. The creator of the list is killed and the woman who feels responsible for her death, decides to complete it for her. Although the book is comical and enjoyable, the idea of keeping a list of “hopeful things” made our discussion personal. We each took turns reciting 5 things from our own list of hopefuls. While listening to others, I realized that hopes and wishes have a blurred, overlapping territory. I hoped to one day learn how to operate a backhoe. Another member dreamed of knowing that her kids were comfortable,settled and happy.

Our lists proved so very interesting, we learned about each other in ways we hadn’t imagined. Even after the meeting, people paired off to compare notes on specific items brought up from our lists.

This whole piece is dedicated to the varied and communal sides of our human experience. How we somehow know when a rock is a boulder not a stone and a chip is a crumb.