The Girl Who Learned To Kneel

I am bargaining with you, sun. If you blaze out this dreary day, I will do a lot of things…in your honour! Yes, ma’am. Yes, sir. I will, indeed, in this order:

1. go back to that fair trade chocolate and homemade ice cream shop on Dundas Street and get a scoop of lemon ginger sorbet. First things first. And yes, I will share with Elsie.
2. pull the weeds in my mother’s garden AND split a hosta. I’m told splitting plants takes a certain boldness. The sun will make me brave.
3. sit in the kiddie pool with Elsie and sing songs about your grace, sun. I will, I will. The lyrics are on the tip of my tongue already. Tip of my tongue, tip of my tongue…
4. find a coffee patio and drink a big ‘ol soy latte (and not begrudge the extra fifty cents or the painful gas that will ensue—soy is difficult to digest, you know?).
5. return to the kiddie pool for a lunch time offering of toast. And yes, I will share with Elsie who also has a fondness for warmed up carbohydrates.
6. lie out sunscreen free for a healthy fifteen minutes to get my day’s portion of vitamin D with one hand lingering in the kiddie pool for that Florida poolside feeling.
7. be generally overflowing with gratitude all day.
8. teach Elsie to give hugs. Fine, we’ll do it in the kiddie pool. We’ve already had our first tutorial and it went very well. She’s very advanced.
9. wash the car. What the hell! I see other people do this act when the sun is out. And sometimes when the sun is not out. I don’t understand the urge, but I want to. Yeah, baby, the impending sun is making me crazy. Wild. Crazy. Don’t get in my way. I have a silver Honda to sluice.
10. turn ten cartwheels in a row and then celebrate the disorientation. ‘Cause if I get to this point and the sun is still blazing, I will be looking for a way to fall head over heels.

So do we have a deal?