My grandkids think Eden was when we
walked around with goosebumps, eating
berries and nuts-- and had twigs in our hair.
God, Where do they get that? Sometimes,
I think it was all a dream,
but how would I explain eight hundred years
of nightmares and one night of bliss?
You would not have believed those trees.
They aren't like the ones here. My favorites--
the yellow pears-- twice as large as those
bitter little things we call pears now. Ours
tasted like cinnamon. No core,only carmel inside,
the seeds were so small you could eat the whole thing.
I'd cut down the largest and cook fruit soup
Yes, we had fire. God, we weren't primitive.
It was too hot to wear clothes, and they
would have been a bother, because
we were always swimming
up waterfalls or going down
to talk to the fish and the merpeople.
They had such wonderful recipes for
hair cream-- the merpeople I mean.
Don't even give me that look...
Anyway, I had the most wonderful hair.
Flowing all the way down to my ankles.
It was silvery blue, almost purple. God,
back then...Back then Adam has
only to run his fingers through my
hair and I felt like a double
rainbow. Little feathers would fly
right out of my head and float
on the breeze-- kind of like dandelion
fluff you would call it.
That's how we had so many children.
No, we weren't like the animals back then.
Everything was always so... comfortable.
The wind would carry the seeds around
plant them somewhere in the garden and
we'd find them...babies popping up like weeds
in the cabbage bed. If they landed too far,
the storks would bring them back when
they were ripe. Adam had
trouble finding names for them all, we
had to start asking the monkey's to help us
come up with new ideas. Of course their was
a big riot because the birds wanted to
help too. But we couldn't pronounce
what they came up with, let alone
God, yes we could read. Who have
you been listening to?
Babies were so much easier back then.
They could walk a few hours after birth.
They loved to drink milk weed. They
played with the animals. We had several
nanny goats to heard them all until
they were full grown at the end
of each summer. They made fresh
cheese and butter for all of them. The goats
taught them to talk, called them their kids...
God, yes animals could talk. Who has
been telling you animals never talked.
I heard them myself. Who do you think
taught me to talk?
If you can't believe your poor granny
at her age, this conversation is over!