Mood:
accident proneTopic: "Frodo's Newer Friend"(6)
Inanimate objects rarely achieve friendship status in Frodo's world. A motorcar or two might be an exception, and perhaps if one tried hard enough, inantimacy may be extended to certain books, movies, or recordings. Beyond that, he doesn't favor much that can readily be replaced by something cheaper, prettier, or which can be painted. Today however, Frodo has a new inantimate friend, and his name is Ben Gay.
The warmest day, so far, of 2011 is fast approaching its end. Frodo hand-washed two motorcars, played ball with Mick, the Wonder Dog, raked several pounds of leaf detritus from walkways in the Shire, and freshened all of the birdbaths and feeders therein. He is well aware of the fact that he doesn't have to do everything at once, but, well, he used to do so. Perhaps he simply tries to see just what new limits there are, and he has to test them, periodically. In any event, it is now somewhat difficult to rise up from his easy chair, and when he does it is just conceivable that he will resemble whatever witch it was that bent over double in pursuit of Dorothy and Toto.
Enter his new friend, Mr. Ben Gay. Cognizant he is of places to be avoided by a careless hand in application, thus Frodo caresses his back, and the areas that contain shooting pains when Frodo moves at a speed exceeding the primordial crawl.
Mick, the Wonder Dog, looks longingly at anything that proffers relief to older bones and tendons. His dinner came up a little while ago, and now he contemplates whether begging for replacement is more valuable than merely laying at Frodo's feet, and dreaming about rabbits in open fields ahead. Perhaps Frodo's gentle touch on neck and ear is an acceptable substitute to a canine Ben Gay.
It is supposed to return to a cold rain on the morrow. Frodo needs the rest.
