Looking for Potatoes

I'm cooking eggs. I'm answering the question What are you doing right now? the one that comes up on Facebook. I really am cooking eggs though. Not like yesterday when I wrote on my Facebook profile Lynn is looking for potatoes. I wasn't really looking for potatoes. I had been, but I hadn't found any and was already cooking some brown rice. So I could have written Lynn is cooking brown rice, but I didn't. I didn't even think of it.

Brown rice is nice, but lacking in literary qualities. It doesn't conjure up anything, except the idea of an exemplary dinner. Eat as much brown rice as you like. You will never get fat.

Not so potatoes. Potatoes are literary. If you read that Lynn is looking for potatoes, what vistas gather before your eyes? What scenarios? What gardenscapes, what markets, what dark pantry shelves, what kitchens, small and large? What creamy mayonnaises, what chives and butters, and what grated cheese? What knives and forks and mashers?

What famines? Yes, Lynn was only looking for potatoes. She did not say she found them. What if she had none? The Facebook friends would all be thinking about her and hoping for the best. Worrying that she might have to go to bed hungry. Not knowing about the brown rice. Or the steak and vegetables that she had with it.

Yes, it was a grand deception. But I really am cooking eggs just now.

Oh crikey, the eggs!