Writer’s block and cookies

Nothing begets nothing, while something might beget something really good.

“Ugh!” She threw down her pencil onto the empty page in frustration. “Why won’t you come out?” she bemoaned, closing her eyes as she tried to wrangle her thoughts into submission, only to fail miserably as her mind bounced from one idea to another like toddler who’d drank a gallon of pure caffeine for breakfast.

Her eyes strayed to the list of writing prompts she’d found online sitting next to the mockingly empty page. She loved them all and her fingers itched to write them down for all to see, but her brain utterly refused to settle down enough to craft a tale.

Giving up on the futile wrestling match, she shuffled into the kitchen, legs stiff from sitting for so long. Upon discovering no readily available sweets in the cookie jar, she perused the cabinets. “I need to go grocery shopping. We’re going to be eating nothing but canned Tuna pretty soon Lady,” the Border Collie perked her ears at the mention of her name, tail thumping a few times upon discovering her mistress’s eyes upon her.  Another cabinet was opened, inside of which were the baking ingredients. “Well look at that, everything I need for chocolate chip cookies.” She glanced at the clock on the stove, “It’s only three o’clock. I’ve got plenty of time to make some cookies.”

So she set to work, the desire to fill the empty cookie jar overriding her frustration with the empty page. An hour and a half later, the house smelled delightfully like chocolate chip cookies and the procrastinating writer could be found happily munching the chocolaty goodness, conveniently ignoring the fact that it was supper-time and she hadn’t yet cooked anything.

Absently, she stared out the window, watching her Miniature foal prance up to the cat who was sunning itself in the grass just inside backyard pasture’s fence. The cat tolerated the foal’s curious sniffing and hardly moved when the foal took an experimental lick of the cat’s fluffy back. A fluffy tail brushed the exploring foal’s muzzle who barely sniffed it before opening its jaws and biting down.

A loud yowl announced the cat’s displeasure and it dealt out punishment with a full set of claws to the startled foal’s soft muzzle. With a squeal, the foal ran back to its mother’s side, as if to demand that she stomp the mean, weird smelling creature. For her part, the foal’s mother barely gave her baby a passing sniff before determining that it was not truly injured and she went back to her grazing. The foal snorted a few more times before following its mother’s example.

The procrastinating writer, who had seen and heard the whole thing through the open window was holding her sides as she laughed. Lady barked and wagged her tail, happy simple because her mistress was happy.

Her laughing abruptly stopped, her eyes alight. She ran back to her desk and picked up the abandoned pencil, her fingers working feverishly. The empty page would taunt her no more!

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