Dark blond and übersoft,
my winter coat
gained a magical air when the
babysitter showed me the label,
pronouncing the word — Llama —
telling me about the animal, its
mountain home, its prized wool.
I spent the remainder of the day
coat across my lap, an
encyclopedia opened atop it,
lost in discovery and wonder.
My post written in exactly 55 words for Flash Fiction 55, now hosted by the lovelies over at imaginary garden with read toads.
.
17 comments:
That's sweet, Lydia!
Blessings and Bear hugs!
we have lost connection to where our clothes / our food, come from...so i am glad you took this journey...i would be interested in knowing the working conditions of the laborers...that is the one that always gets me...llamas are cool though...there are a couple farms in my area...
I love the feel of this--I suspect much as you do the llama coat--a subtle reminder of where we come from and where we go to I think
I googled llama as well. Fascinating. I love wandering a high end yarn shop reading where the yarns come from. Sweet 55
A llama coat sounds so exotic.
I have not touched a llama coat but you made it sound so exotic & interesting ~ Googling it now, smiles ~
I want a llama, too! They are completely cool, except for the spitting, but that can be explained away as not having access to Emily Post books!
There is a Neil Young song where he sings "I'm gonna ride my llama/ from Peru to Texarkana". Count me in, Neil.
Oh, this is delightful!
A llama coat! you will be toasty warm. We have llamas here on the Island......adorable haughty creatures.
Many folks in my part of Oregon raise llamas. They are adorable, but WOW can they spit!
Hello Everyone! Thanks for your fun comments; I am enjoying them. :)
Wanted to clarify that I had this llama coat as a child, but have never forgotten it. I just googled about them and, wow, are they expensive. Probably worth every dollar, though, and I would love to have one again. (But I would still rather own a real llama.....except for that spitting!)
cool ~
You describe those doors that open to a child at the slightest mystery--we lose that curiosity and sense of wonder too fast.
When I was not yet old enough to buy my own clothes, but old enough to know I didn't like beige or yellow, I traded a camel hair coat for a friend's black plastic mac. My mother wasn't pleased. You will understand I was a shallow teenager.
Later I learned to spin, dye, and weave many fibres - the best one I ever met was qiviut (the inner hair of the musk oxen).
What a beautiful memory...how amazing how a single word can open a universe of discovery.
Did you hear about the camelid who took up boxing? He said, "I may not win, but alpaca punch!"
Thanks, I'm here all week.
Post a Comment