Nothing To Say

I really have nothing to say.  Normally I sit down with a topic in mind and I write.  It does not mean I know all I am going to write, but by the end I normally have what I want.  I then let it mature, and if it is short, I can add, and if it is long, I can take away if I want to add something.
This time though I have nothing.  Now that is a challenge.  What to say when I have nothing to say.  I may be running furiously in mid-air before I plummet.  To do this, that is a chance I will need to take.  But I’m tough.  You probably already know that.  In fact, if I was any tougher, I’d rust.
“I go from a corruptible to an incorruptible crown.”  King Charles 1.  I like that.  I wrote it for no other reason.  I just like that it comes from a king.
I am actually spending a lot of time staring meaningfully into the middle distance.  Meaningfully might be a bit of a stretch.  Blankly might be more appropriate.  But I am not easily distracted. “Oh look, a butterfly.”  Where was I?  Oh yes, I am focused.
Merril is on her way home.  Her phone call is generally my que to look busy.  But I have opened the car port door, got the bins, checked the mail, hosed out the kitchen bin and put away the washing up.  What else is there?  It is too late in the day to start a major structure (don’t make anything of this coughing and sheepish look).
Her coffee is ready to go.  Not go as in leave, but go as in it is ready to be partaken of.  Something that is ready to go or well past its use by date we save for our guests.  What doesn’t kill them makes them stronger.  Ok we do not do that, but I can not say we have never joked about it.  A chicken had to go.  Its use by date was more than five years previous.  The fact it was buried didn’t help.
I am ready to spring into action.  I will need to be careful though.  Today I sprang into action and my pants got caught on the arm of the chair.  It is so hard to look cool when engaged in a struggle like that.  As soon as the car pulls up I will put the kettle on.
I notice this is over 400 words.  I have reached my goal.  Anything I write now is a bonus (you might see it differently).  It is like the “Deluxe” edition.  Any further paragraphs are like the bonus tracks.
I can’t though cause the car has just pulled up.  Merril has a heap of cake and stuff.  She was instructed to bring it home for “the specimen.”  That’s me.  I’m still trying to work out if that is a good or bad thing.