Adventures of a Dancing Kumquat

Following the saga of the little citrus with terpsichorean tendencies

Sunday, February 08, 2004

Frozen Kumquat

Last weekend, the kumquat went to the snow. The kumquat doesn't usually go to the snow. It was a very interesting experience for her.

You see, citrus as a rule tend to like warmer climates. It makes them much
happier and sweeter. The kumquat is no exception to this rule.

It is also to be supposed that warmer climates make citrus juicier, but the kumquat feels that this information is a little personal and does not intend to divulge whether or not this supposition applies to her.

The kumquat believes in maintaining at least a slight air of mystery.

Even though the kumquat prefers milder climates, she decided to go to the snow with some other dancing flora. She drove up to Tahoe with the lime. Actually, she just sat. The lime drove.

The lime was going to ski a half day once they got to Tahoe, but the weather was bad, so he decided to just hang out with the kumquat. Apparently limes don't feel the same way about snow as kumquats do.

The kumquat, while not usually inclined to actively seek out the snow, found that she is rather entertained by it when plopped down in a snowy lair. It's rather fun to touch, play with and throw. Especially when directed at a good target... The kumquat was also very entertained by the fact that the snow looked like snow. Once, when some really big flakes fell, she could see the crystalline structure that she normally only sees in books. She was very excited, and kept repeating that it really looked like SNOW.

The kumquat is quite aware that she is weird.

The next day, the kumquat learned that snow, while entertaining is also treacherous.

The first subtle signs of this treachery appeared when the dancing flora had reached their snow playing grounds. Tahoe is known as a destination for skiers, but for some reason the parks are all closed during winter. Which wouldn't really matter, except the parks contain little houses with plumbing. The kumquat is a very domesticated citrus, she likes plumbing surrounded by comforting walls. She did not appreciate being locked out of the plumbing-filled buildings. She also deeply regretted not having devoted more of her education to the study of lock picking. She was not the only citrus to be so resentful. The Meyer lemon was also unhappy.

This situation was eventually dealt with, albeit in a less-than-ideal way. The kumquat, being a modest citrus, will not go into details. If her readers desire lurid details, the kumquat suggests that they read the tabloids.

The snow's treachery continued, even after this first indignity. Snow apparently is the kind of thing that likes to kick one when one is down. The snow feigns innocence. It looks so white and pure and sparkly. It pretends that it is just minding its own business. But the kumquat knows better.

Treacherous as it is, the snow cannot accomplish its malevolent mayhem unaided. This the kumquat has discovered: the snow does not work alone. It is aided by bushes, trees, rocks and picnic tables that are hidden by its sparkly innocence. The snow lulls one into a false sense of security and then suddenly gives way and one's shins are unceremoniously delivered into the clutches of the above objects. The kumquat has evidence of these attacks.

Wanna see her bruises?