Thinking Women

My typist swears she is not trying to torture us by insisting on posting these photographs of her foray yesterday to a town just south of her undisclosed location, a town of artists and other groovy types spread out across the basin of a beautiful river whose banks are lined with cottonwood trees that sway in the desert breezes. No, she insists, her intention is not to rub in how transcendently gorgeous the weather is in her little corner of paradise while those of us in the east suffer through days of cold, dreary, unremitting rain. She's out traipsing around in short sleeves, while here in Roxie's World one of the heaters is on the fritz. And the busiest day of Goose's week is just around the corner.

"Honey," Moose says, "would it be irresponsible of me to buy a bronze sculpture of a woman thinking to bring home to remind me of this time and place?"

"Of course not, dear. Art is an investment and an inspiration. We are all about women thinking, after all."

"But, you know -- the furloughs, the heater."

"It doesn't matter. Remember our first trip out there together, when we were just out of grad school, dirt poor, and fell in love with a hand-painted floor lamp we didn't think we could afford? A teacher friend who was out there with us insisted that we buy it. She told us if we didn't we would never stop thinking about that lamp and we'd always regret having passed it up, so we bought it, shipped it home, and have loved it every day for nearly a quarter of a century. If this sculpture has that kind of pull on you, then don't let it get away from you."

"You have a point," Moose replied. "I will think about it on today's hike. If I have a lampy sort of feeling about it, maybe I will give the artist a call. I had a lovely chat with her yesterday. She was very friendly. Had a beautiful studio. Nice accent, too. British."

"You're distracted. You're thinking about your thinking woman, aren't you?"

"Maybe. A bit."

"Where are you hiking today?"

"Not sure. Someplace nearby. Safe. Well-marked. Girl Scout-type trail. Don't worry. What are you doing today?"

"Grading, getting ready for classes."

"Is it still raining?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry. Here are some pretty pictures to remind you of what dry land looks like."

"Thanks. I will think of you walking out there today, thinking of your thinking woman."

"And I will think of you there, being my thinking woman, snuggled up with an old dog, thinking of me."