A small dish of perspective with a large dollop of real whipped cream

Remembering my first job in the hospital kitchen.  Visualizing the walk-in refrigerator with the big steel door.   Going in to retrieve shallow pans of cherry jello.  Me a gawkward geek in a low cost white uniform and hairnet.  Goosebumps.

The scraping sound of cutting stripes through the red jello with a dinner knife.  Cross stripes to make cubes.  Dishing up the cubes with a large spoon--servings by the hundreds.  Then back into the walk-in to retrieve the giant stainless steel mixer bowls full of real whipped cream.  Most of the jello dishes then received their dollops. Each whipped cream topping looked like an @ sign atop the # of jello cubes.

See the #?  That is how much jello I want.  See the @?

See the asterisk * on your keyboard?  That is the size of the yellow translucent spider walking on the armrest of the park bench at noon.  It's only 95 degrees outside, so it feels cool.  Woodpeckers and chickadees are having a fabulous time.

See the 8?  That is the size of the quick brown spider following the yellow spider on the armrest.

Oh, isn't that cute?  Maybe the * and 8 spiders are friends! We can all share the park bench. Let me just find my camera in my purse so we can pose for a happy friends photo.


The 8 spider is an inch behind * and gaining rapidly.  I pull out the camera and switch it to macro.   Dang, 8 has already grabbed * and eaten *'s head!  8 is carrying the rest of * to the shadiest side of the armrest, but alas, has dropped one of *'s legs.

Forget the quick brown fox and the lazy dog.  The quick brown spider is amazing. This drama is taking place a foot from my elbow. Grateful  I'm just the camerawoman, and not one of the two leads in this movie.




© 2011 Nancy L. Ruder