— So I came home at 5, refilled the water tank using the special new shelf you built, got the MudDood’s battery plugged in so it can charge, chopped a little tinder, got a fire going in the woodstove, plucked some kale from the garden and made some dinner, got the salmon marinating, and am now settling in to write.
— Do you have nothing to complain about?
— Only that I wish you were here.
— But nothing to complain about Cooter Hollow?
— No, everything’s working right now.
— You need to write a post on your blogh so that we can forever remember the day you had nothing to complain about.
— Come on! All my posts are about how much I love Cooter Hollow!
— Oh, and also, while you’re writing that blogh post, you should note that the headlights of the MudDood work just fine, that you mistook the switch.
— Okay, okay, yes, I’ll write it. Jesus!
— You also need to mention that you exaggerate in the retelling phase, just a little, and that the way you’ve transcribed this conversation you’re worried that I might come across as a little bit of a dick. And you’re worried that your readers won’t get that when we gibe like this, it’s all in good fun. But I understand it can be tough to get that across if you’re just doing a transcription.
— But I don’t have readers, other than you.
— Wait a second! I never said “gibe.” You just made that up.
— I just made all of it up! (I mean, not all of it, not the part about it being a beautiful evening with wood in the fire and fresh vegetables in the belly.)