“When anybody asks, 'What are you writing about now?' if I try to reply, the book-in-the-works sounds so idiotic to me that I think, 'Why am I trying to write that puerile junk?' So now I give up; if I could talk about it, I wouldn't have to write it."
- Madeleine L'Engle, A Circle of Quiet


The War of the Raspberries

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Today I fought an epic battle. You might think that to call it epic would imply there were many soldiers on either side, but that was not the case today. Like Aragorn fighting the Uruk-hai to let Frodo escape across the river, I stood alone against many foes.

To carry the metaphor further, my Uruk-hai were wild raspberry bushes and my Frodo was our big yellow Chevy truck. And ... that's pretty much where the metaphor ends. The truck is incapacitated by a dead battery, so unlike Frodo she wasn't going anywhere. In fact, she was so tangled up in those raspberry bushes that I don't know if she could have escaped even if she was able to run.

It was a risky operation, freeing her from their clutches. I had to fight with precision and without fear, armed only with a faulty weed whacker, a pruner that sticks, and a dull lopper. For a while I thought I might emerge unscathed, but then the raspberries started tossing bits of themselves back at me. They seemed to figure out that my arms and face were unarmed, and began attacking those areas with a vengeance.

Even my special nitrile coated gloves of +2 armor against thorns failed me. I had to use my handy giant pliers to extract a thorn from my finger and the glove. Another time, I thought I had defeated a foe and was tossing away its body, when it thrust out a thorn and caught my arm like a fish hook.

That felt great.

But in the end I emerged victorious, though the raspberry bushes gave it everything they had, even enlisting their friends the biting flies to join in their fight against me. All that is left to show for the battle are bits and pieces of raspberry corpses littering the area around the truck. I'm not going to lie; it's not a pretty sight.

Now, I sit here with my Coke Vanilla Zero poured over too much ice and a bowl of egg salad which I am eating with a spoon because I'm too tired to cut bread for a sandwich and goldangit I just fought off an angry horde of wild raspberry bushes and I'll eat whatever the heck I want thank you very much.

I sure hope the truck appreciates it.