Flue Notes

{Writing Exercise}

I could have avoided all that trouble if only I had remembered to open the flue when the thought first occurred to me.

Margaret always nagged me about procrastinating. Now that she's gone, I guess I can admit she was right. Boy, was she right.

I said to myself "Jim, open the flue before you forget." But, do you think I did that. Nah, I have more confidence then common sense. "I'll do it after I get my hat," I thought. Then, I started ruminating about male pattern baldness, and cursing the McClanahan side of the family. Bald, every last male.

And, then, as often happens, and I hope you can relate, Ollie, I'm out chopping wood, no thought of the flue. Just happy with my new wool hat with the fleece lining and ear flaps, that I got from the Woodsmen catalog.

Goddamnit - Margaret was right. I should have taped a note above the fireplace. Geezus! I'm not ready to tape notes around the house. Holy cow, I'm too young. And, I ain't tellin' you how young, Ollie. Suffice it to say, I'm not planning on being senile for quite some time!

"Of course not, Jim,", Ollie assured, topping off the glass of whiskey. "And, if you were heading down that road, it's your wife who sent you there, eh?"

"You're a prince of a bartender, Ollie," Jim said, leaving a five on the counter and a faint aroma of wood smoke as he exited the bar.