As I mentioned in previous posts, I am jumping into situations in the interest of growth and moving past discomfort!  A week from this Tuesday is the speech contest for Toastmasters, and I signed up for both the “Comedy” speech and the “Tall Tale” speech before I even knew what I was going to write about.  Well, I eeked out a rough, rough draft of the comedy speech.  If you missed it, here’s the link to Friday: Funny Friday: Humorous Speech Attempt.

I decided to start with some reality for my Tall Tales speech.  According to Toastmasters guidelines: “”The subject for the Tall Tales speech must be of a highly exaggerated, improbable nature and have a theme or plot.”

The idea for this story is inspired by real life events.  And also reminds me of one of my favorite tales, Benjamin Bunny.  Has anyone else read this? I only have about 10 minutes until my next event tonight, so I’m going to do a bit of a brain dump and do another rough, rough draft.  Read at your own peril. . .

I decided to start a garden.  I started with strawberries, but every time I checked on them, it looked like they’d been partially eaten.  I never really saw the culprit, but I assumed it was a rabbit.  Next I decided to get really, really tall flowers.  I figured the rabbit couldn’t get to them.  But the next day I found a flower stalk with a severed head.  The little bugger had snipped the flower at its head height and like a beaver, chopped the sucker down.  It left most of the pedals on, too, as if to spite me.  Maybe bit off a bit more than you could chew, silly rabbit?  So, then I figured I’d outsmart it.  I’d get marigolds.  Rabbits HATE marigolds, right?  So, I planted a long row of marigolds.  And I waited.  And nothing happened.  And I waited.  And the marigolds blossomed and grew in 3s and 4s, and I started really liking the looks of that garden.  And first I thought, “Yep.  Rabbit!”  And then I thought.  “Now, come on?  Do I really just want a marigold garden? SURELY I can outsmart a little rabbit!”

Times up!  To be continued. . .

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