Randomness

So Sorry!

I’m sorry I don’t have a blog ready this week. Life is in the way again! Please stay tuned – next week begins a new tall tale! Thank you so much!                 1

Randomness

Buddy Wilson

Buddy Wilson’s eyes were stuck. He wanted to snap out of his trance, to stop staring. After all, there wasn’t a minute to waste. Move it or lose it, he told himself while his burning tired eyes followed the cow’s hind end over the hill. It was out of sight now and still his eyes wouldn’t move any more than his feet would. The mud sucked his boots down a little further. The rain was constant. Not a nice light rain, not even a downpour. No, this was pelting rain: hard, loud, pounding. It was a punishment and it wouldn’t let up. His mind was lost in the banging on the metal roof of the barn just as his eyes were fixed on the end of the hill. If he didn’t go after her now, right now, she would probably drown. Just slide down the bank with the sliding earth, land in the mouth of the tumultuous monster the river had become, and be swallowed up. He couldn’t afford to lose another cow, yet he couldn’t get his eyes to move or his mind to give up on the rhythmic beating of the pelting rain. It had been ten days…

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The Flint Riggins Story, Part 7 (The End

Pt. 7 I stood up, feeling as though I needed to go back to the lake. “Died? Mozer died? How?” “All I know is he apparently died in his sleep. Flint called this morning. He said he normally goes out and shovels for people first thing in the day and then goes back to Mozer’s around noon to have lunch with him. Mozer’s bedroom door was still closed, so Flint peeked in on him. He was in his bed. Gone.” “Oh my gosh!” I sat back down and leaned forward in the chair. “I guess it’s a really good thing the lake house is pretty much ready for Flint then. He’s probably got to get moved out right away.” “That’s what I was thinking,” Mom said. “I don’t know anything about Mozer’s family. I’ve don’t know if he has kids or anything. He’s always been such an onry old cuss, I’ve kept my distance.” “Yeah, he has,” I agreed. “Do you want me to go to the lake with you and talk to him? He might need a place to stay right away, like tonight.” “Thank you Vicki, but you need to get yourself settled in your new place. I’ve…

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The Flint Riggins Story, Pt. 6

Part 6 “So how was your Christmas, anyway?” Sheri asked. We’d just pulled up in front of the only café open through the winter in our neck of the woods. “It was fine, I guess,” I whined. “I mean, Flint hardly says a word unless I’m out of the room and then I hear him talking to Ryan and Mom.” We got out of the car and headed for the door. The aroma of deep fried everything assaulted us. “We should have stayed home,” Sheri said. “This food will kill us.” Opening the door was kind of like staying home. The tables were occupied with friends and neighbors, all chatty and happy to see us. “The taco salad isn’t so unhealthy, and it’s good. That’s what I usually get here.” We picked a table and shrugged out of our jackets. “I’m dying for coffee,” I looked around for Rita, the owner and only waitress. She was coming up behind me with a fresh pot. “Hi gals,” she smiled as she poured. “Want menus or do you know what you want?” “Guess I’ll have my usual,” I said. “I’ll try one too,” said Sheri. “Joe!” Rita shouted at the cook. “Two…

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The Flint Riggins Story, Part 5

Pt. 5 Ryan stoked the fire. Although it was nearly midnight, the three of us were wide awake. “Well,” I sighed, “Christmas is next week. Are you inviting him to town? What’s the plan for that?” I could just imagine the whole extended family gathered around the huge dining table at my parent’s house when the introduction is made. “By the way,” Mom would smile and nod toward Flint. “This is Ryan and Vicki’s half brother by another mother.” I chuckled to myself. “I would like to have a quiet Christmas here,” Mom said. “Just the three of us and Flint. We don’t have to host the whole gang every year and under the circumstances, I think it would be nice for you to get to know him a bit.” I hadn’t meant to grown out loud. “Vicki, you need to change your attitude. It’s not his fault. He was fourteen when his poor excuse for a mother died, your dad abandoned him from the start, his foster homes were nightmares, and he’s been damaged serving his country. The addition will be totally private and give him a safe warm home, something he’s never had and something he certainly deserves.”…

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The Flint Riggins Story, Part 4

  Pt. 4 Noon Saturday arrived with my brother Ryan at my front door delivering Mom. She’d packed enough for a month which got me wondering if that was exactly her plan. Stay long enough to get me straightened out, living again, fixing myself up! I knew she worried about what I was going to do with the rest of my life, but I didn’t. I simply didn’t care. Peace and semi-solitude suited me well. They removed boots, hats, gloves, scarves, and parkas, burying the coat rack, then joined me in the kitchen for lunch. I’d offered to make my famous butternut squash soup and toasted cheese sandwiches so we could visit before Ryan headed back into town. I also wanted to find out what he’d been doing out at the lake recently without coming to see me. Mom got three coffee cups from the cupboard and filled them up, taking cream out of the refrigerator and setting it on the table. I made the sandwiches and Ryan filled the soup bowls. When everything was ready, we took our seats at the old kitchen table and smiled at each other. It was all so familiar- good memories surrounded us. “This…

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The Flint Riggins Story Pt. 3

Pt. 3 A week later, two of my childhood buddies and fellow lake residents, Norma and Sheri, joined me in my cozy living room for a girls night in. The fire I’d built in the big rock fireplace crackled and danced while we made ourselves comfortable in the old leather furniture, soft as butter from years of wear. I set out some snacks and poured everyone a glass of red wine and we toasted the three of us. “To hanging out in no-man’s-land all winter long,” Sheri lifted her glass and Norma and I joined in with a soft clinking together of my grandmother’s crystal goblets. “Hey,” Sheri began as she settled into the big leather chair, “I saw Ryan out here again the other day. What’s he been up to?” “Ryan? My brother, Ryan?” “The one and only,” Sheri nodded. “I have no idea.” I felt myself squint.  “What do you mean ‘again’? I didn’t know he was here at all.” “Yeah, he was talking to Flint a couple of days ago. I figured he was making arrangements to have Flint shovel for you, or something like that, but it is strange he didn’t come and say hello.” “He…

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The Flint Riggins Story Pt. 2

Pt. 2 The winter of 1998 was particularly tough on all of us. The roads were plowed continuously yet never clear, the drifts rose so high we drove through tunnels and walkways and driveways were a never ending job. If you planned on getting out of the house in the morning, you shoveled last thing in the evening. Of course, we were used to it, living in this part of the country demands preparation for the seasons and most of us loved it. I had come to occupy the family lake house full time while I attempted to put the fragments of my life back together: not at all like they used to be, yet mended back together in a way that would allow me to continue living on my own. Discovering that my best friend and husband of twenty six years had a secret life which included a young lover and a child stomped out the fairy tale of happily ever after. I’ve learned it was all a mirage unfortunately. And now, for the second part of my life; a true one, an honest one. I will never let me down, I decided. I will take good care of…

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The Flint Riggins Story, Pt. 1

  Hi! I’m sorry my blog is late getting out this week. Life just gets in the way doesn’t it? I received so much positive feedback from the Cammie Orton series I decided to do it again. So, here we go! I hope you enjoy it. Mary Ann The Story of Flint Riggins Part 1 Flint Riggins was a friend of a friend of a friend of mine. I never really wanted to get to know the guy, but as it turned out, I had no choice. Destiny is a curious thing. Total confusion along the way and then suddenly, there you are, face to face with it. I’ll never know how it all came about. Just that it did and sometimes that has to be good enough. Acceptance I guess: simple acceptance. It was 1998 when I first met him. He had a dog named Vern. I’ll never forget how hard I laughed over a dog named Vern. I mean seriously, can’t you just hear it. “Vernon!”  Flint would holler. “Vern you come on now.” I’m not the only one who cracked up over that name. The dog lived to obey. His adoration for his master was evident in…

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Pt. 6 (and the end) of The Cammie Orton Story

Pt. 6 Ann clamored down the stairs as quickly as she could, grasping the pealing metal railing, flecks of paint fleeing her hands like snow in the wind. Maddy and I froze at the top of the stairs. Our eyes locked. “Let’s give her minute,” she muttered. I nodded understanding the possible need for a private moment as Ann passed under the crumbling door frame. There was nothing but silence. I could hear my heart pounding. We waited a couple of minutes before hearing Ann’s soft voice strangled in tears. “Who…how could she…how long?” Maddy and I slowly descended the steep stairs and peaked cautiously into the cellar. Odors crept our way, invading our sense of smell with that chilling dampness and old mold cellars are famous for. But what we beheld defied the odor. The room, no larger than a prison cell, was the definition of a desperate attempt at survival with dignity. An old wooden crate turned on it’s side served as a night stand next to a cot. The cot was tiny and metal, like an old army cot. Although it obviously lacked a mattress, it was piled with old quilts and pillows of all sizes and…

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