Let’s Talk About “your” Big But

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wild palombe.  four of these babies given to us from a friend.

 

PeeWee : But what? Everyone I know has a big “But…? C’mon, Simone, let’s talk about *your* big “But”.

Who knew that PeeWee’s Big Adventure would be so deep.  Somehow this gem hit our screen a few weeks ago and carrying an arm load of laundry, I walked into that scene.  So you think, “yeah?! How about MY but??”

What’s my big but?  I can tell you that it was not this:  I always wanted to start a grassfed beef farm strung together with bailing wire in a country where I don’t speak the language and have a fourth baby in a house missing windows and doors yet has flush toilets, BUT …

I always wanted to do more musical theater, BUT I got paid more doing modern dance.  (I CAN’T EVEN BELIEVE THAT’S TRUE!)

I always wanted to be on Colbert, BUT I need to write a book first.

BUT what.  But, I’m glad I’m here.  Each day is filled with unknowns and problems to solve.  We have HUGE projects that will take years to perfect.  It’s the ultimate slow food.  I shed my microwave long ago.  I’ve given up processed foods.  I’m growing my produce.  Slowly.   Hopefully.  Expectantly.  BUT please don’t make me leave.

 

When I was a dancer I started dating this high-tech dude.  We’d go to parties.  I’d meet his peeps.  Pretty much on cue, they’d launch the “so, what do you do?” line of conversation.  I’m not sure if it’s an American thing, but people who “do” tend to ask “what do you do.”  As a dancer, from their perspective, technically I “don’t.”  So my answer to “what do you do” was somewhat disappointing.  Occasionally what I don’t would be entertaining when the “do”s equated “dancer” with “stripper/feely girl.”   Now that I’m older and wiser, the better question at those parties would be “what do you don’t?”  What you don’t is your big but.  You see, I’m a loner.  A rebel.  You don’t want to get mixed up with a guy like me, Dottie.

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2 thoughts on “Let’s Talk About “your” Big But

    • Jean Curtis says:

      hee hee. Yes, well. I plucked the breast feathers off quickly and cut out the lovely meat. I fried it up with some SalPep and the kids LOVED it :). I’ve NEVER done that before and I can’t believe how natural it felt. The first bird did this strange exhale noise. I double checked that it was indeed dead. After I learned with the first one, the rest were prepared quicker than taking the wrapping off of store bought poultry. You really can’t get much fresher than hours old pigeon.

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