STOP! Before you go further in this read, google the microscopic water bear. Then come back. I'll wait for you.
Chop, chop, pork chop, clocks a ticking.
Okay, now that you have seen the little sucker, are you with me on thinking this is one of the most bizarre things on earth. It has little hands, people! Besides food, what does it use those hands for? Does it pull it's mate in for spoon cuddling in the middle of the night? Does it wipe its mouth with a napkin after sloppy taco night? Sip lattes or hot cocoa? Does it care if its' gluten laden bread is non-GMO?
These are the important questions scientists should be asking.
Other important questions:
When you walk down a dirt road that has recently been laden with rocks to keep down the dust and mud, how many footprints are needed to smooth out that road? Where is the research on this?
Every Spring, I notice that the fir trees have neon green tips at the end of the branches. Is this from new growth that has not yet turned the dark, sullen green of the rest of the fir needles? Or do forest elves paint them as some kind of festival event?
Why are japanese maples pink, red and burgundy? Who gave them the go ahead to be a totally different color than the other trees? Was it some kind of favoritism by the Tree Goddess? Or did they win a tree coloring lottery when colors were being handed out at the beginning of the Age of Trees?
What does Ellie do in the next chapter of the latest Scout and Ellie book I'm writing? The circus is about to start, she and Scout are going to be performing a new act, I have to write about it, and she still
has not told me what happens. I mean, sure, she's given clues. But not the whole act. All I can say is, she had better do a darn good job of showing me what is happening, because I certainly don't have a clue. Elephants can sure be secretive and tricky to deal with. Am I right here, or what?
Why does warm apple cider taste even better when I'm writing?
Where are the people who are supposed to be giving me the answers to these questions that haunt me. Are they taunting me with their secret knowledge? Laughing behind my back?
Maybe I can get back at them by just not asking questions anymore. That would show those little secret keepers. No, that wouldn't work. If I don't ask my questions, my mind will explode.
Or implode. Now which one is it?
Tormented soul forever seeking answers to unanswerable questions.