I like books.


I live in a small town and enjoy writing about the inhabitants. I spend most of my time perusing through used book stores looking for that one great book that I don't have; consequently, I have rooms filled with books. I am a book addict.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Diddling can make you fat.

I am itching to write, not like academic writing, but creative writing. I have two novels started but I think with one, I have written myself into a corner and with the other, well I need to research, so, I am shelving them, or for a while. My Nanny story will continue but it will not be my focus. So, I’m writing the first story, one of many in this compilation, if that is even a word, but lest I digress, I was writing this story and suddenly all these things that Nanny said to me came rushing back and they were right there in my story about my prostitute friend. Things like you are judged by the friends you keep, and don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, and boys are after one thing. Well, you had to know my nanny. My favorite was don’t look your enemy in the eyes, they might hank you. See, she was nuts too. Her favorite was don’t diddle, it’s what makes women go crazy. For years, I didn’t know what diddle was, and I’m still not sure if diddling requires a partner or is it something you can do alone, the only thing I know for sure is that diddling has something to do with gratification of some sorts. I know this because she described it in terms of urges. Standing at the kitchen sink, a new item in her house, it was porcelin and had replaced the huge aluminum pan that she filled with heated well water, she gave me advice about life. One particular day, she was filling the sink with water, and I was stacking the dishes up in order that she preferred, first the glasses, second the plates, third the silverware, fourth the bowls, fifth the pots, and last the skillet. “Never scrub the cast iron,” she warned. “Just rinse it out, save the flavors. See, it won’t stick. It’s seasoned just right. Never dry it with a towel, heat it on the stove and rub a little grease in it and put her up. Needs special care.” That was an example of her advice, but one day, she said, “If you get urges, I don’t want you to be like these other gals. All hooched up on diddling. Wearing all that paint, and showing too much skin. It’s them girls you’ll see standing with their bellies all sticking out.” I felt embarrassed by her advice and only after she began telling me how the neighbor stole our turnips that I felt comfortable enough to ask her what was diddling. She said, “Just you never mind. If you’re diddling you’ll know it.” So, I grew up not sure if diddling was a single person activity or could there be multiple players, was it a spectator activity? Who knew, but for sure, I knew diddling could lead to a fat belly. So until I was well into my teens, any sign of a fat belly made me think my diddling was too much and I cut back. Yes, my diddling was never in excess and even though my belly does stick out, I am not overdosing on diddling. My nanny would be real proud of me, yep, that’s a fact.


Blogger isabelita said...

"All hooched up on diddling." That's a memorable line! Well, if the demented old farts who are destroying this country spent more time diddling and less time seeking power, maybe we wouldn't be in such bad shape!

9:40 AM  
Blogger zelda1 said...

I know that's right. Diddling will make you smile, will make you have less wrinkles, and according to my nanny, will make you fat.

7:10 PM  

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