Monthly Archives: November 2011

The Mob

A mob of snowmen, complete with black top hats and striped knit scarves, gathered outside the shopping mall.  They were furious that management would not turn  the heat down inside the building so that they could do their Christmas shopping too.

Icey, one particularly unruly snowman, known for his bad behavior, climbed on top the building and began tossing carrots on the customers as they entered the door.  He laughed uncontrollably as he jettisoned the carrots down.

The police were in a quandary.  They had no idea what to do.  They didn’t want to arrest the snowmen in front of the children. They spent the morning trying to figure out how to handle this icy situation.

The sun came out early that day and it grew unseasonably warm.  The temperature rose.  It was nearly 70 degrees by noon and the problem melted away.

(Author’s note:  As you can see these three words got the best of me–words:  mob, jettison, behave)

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Avoiding Black Friday

Early Friday morning the sun was so bright that it nearly hid the Olympic Mountains as they stood majestically above town.    As I walked along Ediz Hook ducks paddled along the shallow water and seagulls circled overhead.  A heron settled on a log floating in the harbor. The tide crawled in quietly and caressed the sand, and then it retreated, only to crawl back in again.

  I watched a pilot-boat heading out and I watched  a ferry enter the harbor.  As I continued to walk the clouds grew darker.  A slight breeze rippled the water and the tall grasses swayed gracefully.  As I embraced the solitude, I was grateful that there are no major malls nearby. 

 

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South Dakota Prairie–an excerpt

Sierra felt empty, a hollow feeling inside that left her wondering what to do next.    She knew it was time to move on.  She wasn’t a small town girl.  She didn’t know why she had stayed in this small South Dakota community so long.  It was time to dust off her resume and move on.  I wasn’t raised and educated to be a waitress in a small town or anything else in a small town, she thought.

She wandered around the hospital aimlessly.  She thought about Don, and Blake, and Gram.  Thank goodness Gram was going to be okay.    She knew she couldn’t leave until Gram was out of the hospital.  She didn’t know why, but she couldn’t. 

Gram isn’t even my grandmother she thought.  I’ve only known her for a couple of months.  Why do I feel such misery when I think about leaving here?  She continued to walk the corridors, smelling the antiseptic, hearing the clicks of the monitors, listening to telephones ring and watching the strained looks on visitors’ faces.  She finally returned to Gram’s room.

Gram’s face lit up when Sierra entered. Gram’s breath was no longer shallow, the color had returned to her cheeks and she was sitting up visiting as if she were entertaining guests at home.

Sierra sighed.  It was going to be hard to tell gram goodbye.

 

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The Thanksgiving Guest–continued

Wayne continued to fidget while Abby located her cell phone, house keys and wallet and then dropped all three into her coat pocket.  “Ready,” she announced as she scooped up Fancy.  Then pushing Wayne aside, she walked out the door.

He knew it, he just knew it.  She was going to bring the stupid dog along. 

Fearing that Abby might fall, Wayne offered her his free arm.  She willingly slid her arm through his and smiled a totally innocent looking smile.

Slowly, very slowly, they maneuvered their way to the car.  Wayne opened the trunk, carefully placed the candy and the whiskey in the trunk and thought, if only I could put Abby and that dumb dog in here too.

Wayne settled Abby into the passenger’s seat and made sure that her seat belt was secure.  Then he finally began to relax.  That didn’t last long.

As they turned onto Main Street, Abby said, “Wayne, we have a police car following us.  Do you think he’ll give you a ticket since Fancy isn’t in a proper puppy restraining device?”  Abby didn’t hear well either so she tended to speak loudly.  This was one of those times when Wayne would have been happier if his companion didn’t speak up.

Wayne turned off of Main Street and onto 5th.  The patrol car followed.  It wasn’t long before Wayne and Abby both started teasing about the patrol car.  “Maybe they just want that million dollars we stole,” laughed Wayne.

Then Abby said, “No, they know that you have kidnapped me.  They are coming after you.  You can’t get away with me.  They are going to catch you.”

Much to Wayne’s amazement, as he pulled into his drive way, the patrol car flipped on  its lights on and sounded its siren.   All Wayne could think was are they really going to cite me for not restraining that stupid dog?

Two patrolmen approached the car, guns raised.  “Get out,” barked the taller of the two.

“Ma’am,” asked the other one, “Do you need help?  Did you dial 911?”

“No,” exclaimed Abby.  “I am just coming to visit for Thanksgiving.”

“Is your cell phone 535-9999?”

“Yes.”

“Someone just dialed 911 from that number.”

Abby reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone and realized that she had accidentally hit the speed dial on her phone.  She had indeed called 911.

The emergency dispatch center had heard the conversation taking place between Wayne and Abby.  Abby was allowed to go inside, but Wayne had a lot of explaining to do.

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More later today

I promised part two of the Thanksgiving guest today.  Some delays.  Hope to have it ready to post later today.  Have a good one.

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The Thanksgiving Guest

Wayne checked the steps for ice as he made his way up the six steps from the street to the walkway.  Someone in the neighborhood must have cleared the snow from the entry to Abby’s house, he thought, as he climbed six more steps to her front door.

He had no idea what had been the impetus behind inviting a ninety-year-old woman for Thanksgiving dinner.   But he took solace in the fact that Susan was actually cooking a holiday dinner complete with pumpkin pie.

Wayne pushed the button and listened.  His hearing was failing and he wasn’t sure if he had heard the bell ring or not.  But then he heard Fancy, Abby’s American Eskimo, having a fit, so he knew the bell had rung.

Stupid dog Wayne thought, as he flipped his graying pony-tail  over the collar on his coat.  While he waited in the cold, he stared at the old wringer washing machine that stood on Abby’s front porch.  He wondered why anyone would consider an antique washing machine –even one with a wooden tub–a proper front porch ornament.

He waited.  It seemed like forever.  When Abby finally came to the door, it only added to Wayne’s frustration when he realized that she had taken time to put on her coat and to tie a scarf around her head.  But, as if for vindication, she handed him a bottle of Irish whiskey and a pan of fudge.

check back on Friday for the rest of the story–

3WW – impetus, solace, vindication

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Is Winter on its Way?

Last night was one of those blustery fall nights that makes one wonder if they really want their bedroom window slightly open for fresh air.

The wind blew so hard that the drapes danced away from the window sill and a wooden plaque played a rhythmic tune as it vibrated against the wall.

The boughs on the evergreens tormented each other as they bumped about like three year-olds having a tantrum. 

This morning the tree across the street stands naked, a casualty of last nights wind.

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