Teardrop Fiction

[Tumbleweed_Tex]

Wonderful stories!!! I luv them all!

And YOURS would be next...right? I thought so...

[queeniejeanne]

I hadn't written in a long while........so there is nothing from this side to "keep up with"
Dennis, says it doesn't make sense...........that's not fiction Queenie Jeanne

[Cliffmeister2000]

Dennis, says it doesn't make sense...........that's not fiction Queenie Jeanne

Makes perfect sense to me! Great story!

[Ratkity]

MOTHS

The owner lady was running out the door with an armful of stuff, including her suitcase. This was the second time she forgot something and had to go back inside. I just watched as she made multiple trips to retrieve things and got a head scratch on her final way past me. She waved and said something about "all you boys best behave" as she finally roared off in her vehicle.

I meandered over to the garden. I take my hunting duties seriously. Those pesky moths were gonna mess up all the 'maters that the lady loved in her salads. Without salads, she'd eat all her other food and that meant less leftovers for me. After annihilating a couple of moths brave enough to be in the 'maters, I checked out the rest of the campground.

The grounds were fairly empty, now that the big yellow buses were taking the kids to school. I checked out all the sites, eventually ending up at Dog's place. He was snoozing in the sun on his bed. Thinking that was a fine idea, I deftly hopped up on the Texan's Teardrop. It hadn't been but a few moments when the Texan himself ambled up, mumbling something to himself. The sleepy look never worked on his type, so I just gave him my most bored eye blink and settled myself into a comfy position. The Texan said something else and then his stomach emitted one of the most monstrous noises I've ever heard. No wonder he was grumpy. The man needed to eat. Shortly thereafter, the Texan left in his vehicle, leaving Dog and I to enjoy the last of the evening sun.

I was just about to nod off when it happened. I was sideswiped by a huge angry moth! This was the grandpa of moths. He was huge! His wings had big spots on it that looked like big eyes staring at me. After giving the offending bug a kitty glare that would give small rodents multiple heart attacks, I settled back in and appeared to go back to my nap. Moths are not real smart this way and the monster took another dive at me. In one swipe off my left paw, I knocked him for a loop. Amazingly, he recovered after spinning a bit and flitted over to a tree to take a breather. I did my best "bored" and "ignore" stance and took the opportunity to clean my right paw. Grandpa moth tried again to dive-bomb me. Pfft, amateur. I side-stepped and then feigned right. "Is that all you got?"

Dog finally opened up an eye to see what the fuss was about. I must admit that the whole episode was more of a game to me than the moth. How can a mere moth (no matter how big) compete with a superior being such as a cat. I played with that moth for at least 45 minutes. I gotta admit, he had heart to keep up his attacks. In the end, I decided enough was enough and dispatched with the poor injured creature. Satisfied, I jumped down from the teardrop to head back up to my hidey hole near the office. Dog just grunted a "goodnight" as I left. It was good timing too. I heard the Texan's vehicle coming up the road. I'm not sure how he'd react to the elebenty hundred footie prints I left on top of his teardrop that I left during my battle. Maybe he wouldn't see them cuz it was dark or maybe he'd appreciate my epic moth battle. Yeah, right. I'd best make myself scarce for a few days.

[Cliffmeister2000]

DISAPPEARING PAINT

Bill hated me. I knew it, too. He was my big brother, and big brothers are supposed to protect their little brothers. That’s how it always worked on TV. Just look at Hoss and Little Joe. Heck, even Wally looked out for the Beav, even if reluctantly. Not Bill, no sir. He’d walk by me and give me a wallop for no good reason whatsoever. He took great delight in getting me in trouble. He was eight years older than me, so he could really pack a wallop, too.

That’s why I was so surprised when he let me go to Hilltop Market with him and Cleon that day. He never let me go with him, ‘less Dad told him he had to.

Hilltop Market was not much of a place, but it was the closest thing we had to a store anywhere near Pedley back in 1962. It really did sit on top of a hill, too, in the neighboring community of Glen Avon. It was part grocery store, part hardware store, and part hobby store, all in the space of what we now call a convenience store.

Bill and Cleon were making a model car. They needed a little bottle of Tester’s Black paint, and one of paint thinner. As we walked into the front door of the store, the hobby section was to the right. We walked over, and Bill picked out the right black paint and thinner, and, miracle of miracles, he gave them to me to carry! I tell you, I was one proud boy of 7 or 8 years, finally having somehow garnered a small amount of affection from my big brother!

We walked around the store for a while, then headed out the door. Suddenly I realized we hadn’t paid for the paint yet!

“Hey,â€

[queeniejeanne]

Cliff, that is so funny......can't believe it......Testers paint......I actually accidentally stole a bottle by carrying it in my hand so long, I forgot it. I was building a hang 10 surfer model of some sort or another. Yes, girls built models too! I and my younger brother were close, unlike my two older brothers, 5 and 10 years older than us. My younger brother took the blame for stealing the paint and Dad took him back to the store. Nothing happened that I can remember, but I do remember how that really took guts, cause my little brother is really a cool guy, still!.......... Cliff thanks for the memory.

Queenie Jeanne

[Cliffmeister2000]

Good memory for you, not so good for me!

Once, as a kid of about 14 or so, my mom and I went to Sprouse Ritz to buy shoelaces. They were just inside the door. I picked them up, and we proceeded around the store as most folks do, then headed home. About half way there, I realized I had the shoelaces, and we hadn't paid. Mom turned around and we went back, explained what had happened, apologized, and paid for the laces.

My mom was awesome that way. And every other way, too.

[Tumbleweed_Tex]

FILE’

Not that I’d ever admit it in public, but a while back, me and Dog got volunteered to watch the office while Renee and a couple of her runnin’ buddies went down to the mall shoe shoppin’. (Nasty business that is, so don’t get me started.)

With the kiddos back in school, the Lucky Dozen is a rather quiet place, so it wasn’t really any big deal. We were looking forward to spending the afternoon watching Andy Griffith, or some old Eastwood movie anyways.

Since the computer on the desk was already on, I figured I’d Google up some home remedies for keeping feline-type critters off vehicles…looking for something a little more effective than sprinkling the paint-job with red pepper. The half-ugly cat seems nice enough, and after all, only his front half is ugly, but he needs to learn to stay off the roof of the Foote. One click led to another, from paw prints to cayenne to spices to gumbo file’.

Eureka!!! Gumbo Fee-lay…

Now…while every Food Channel Cajun-cook-wannabe knows you can purchase little bottles of the stuff at almost any southern supermarket, only those folks with real live raccoon-posterior ancestry know how to do the homemade stuff. And THAT got me and Dog to thinkin’ about fall gardens, mustard greens, and how good that fee-lay stuff is when sprinkled liberally in the pot liquor, and then soaked up in warm cornbread.

File’…it’s not just for gumbo anymore.

Me and Dog really like to find excuses to scrounge around in Renee’s kitchen…Dog for the hidden treats, and me for the pure mischievous factor. At any rate, it didn’t take us long to find the Bacon Bites and a good sized brown paper bag. We helped ourselves to both, while trying to leave everything else undisturbed.

Makin’ homemade gumbo file’ is actually a really simple task, because there’s only one ingredient…the dried, crushed leaves from the sassafras tree. While common in the Southern and Eastern U.S., the sassafras tree is kinda strange. On the same tree, there are three very different patterns to the leaves…oval, two-lobed, and three-lobed. The old folks will tell you that the two-lobed leaves make the best file’. Same thing for tea made by boiling the bark of the roots…Granny said the roots from the north side were better…me, I’ve never been able to tell the difference.

Dog and I gathered a half-bag of leaves from a tree down by the creek, tied the top with a piece of abandoned panty-hose…um…just never mind, ok?…and hung the bag under the upper deck of the office so’s it can breathe. It’ll take a month or six weeks, the goal being that the leaves dry just enough that they’ll shatter when you mess with them. Pick out the stems, and use with caution…the homemade stuff is about thrice as aromatic as the store bought variety.

Shhhh…I heard Renee drive up. Act natural, bacon breath.

Oh NOOO...what'd you do with the bag?

[godskid]

An' hear I thought filet was when you took the bones out of the fish. Not at all familiar with the word you are using. Got a brief definition for us northerners?

(Oh ... and what were HER plans for that bag??)

[Tumbleweed_Tex]

From Dictionary.com

File'

FEE-lay

–noun

a powder made from the ground leaves of the sassafras tree, used as a thickener and to impart a pungent taste to soups, gumbos, and other dishes.


HELP !!! MadJack???

[Tumbleweed_Tex]

http://www.thespicehouse.com/spices/gum ... ras-leaves

[High Desert]

Nice to see this place gettin' some traction again Great new stories everybody!

[Cliffmeister2000]

BOY IN TROUBLE

Boy, I’m in trouble now.

I looked down. I was probably thirty feet up the cliff face, but to my twelve year old imagination, it seemed like three hundred. What was I thinking?

I had been in school thirty minutes ago. Summer school. It was the summer between 6th and 7th grades. I had enrolled in a welding class at the high school. This class was available to everyone from pre-7th graders to high school kids needing a couple easy credits to graduate. I had gone to an elementary school that was totally white. I didn’t realize it, but in this class there were three white kids, and I was the only one just entering puberty.

For some reason, this older kid decided I represented everything bad about white kids. He started out just calling me “White Pattyâ€

[Tumbleweed_Tex]

THE TOWER

Of the hundreds of milestones in my life, none is larger, few are more influential, and none is more sobering than my first, first-hand experience with death. And even though that experience unfolded a few weeks before my ninth birthday, its vividness tends to remain burned into my memory throughout the decades.

Momma-Tex was a den mother for the local Cub Scout Pack. Once a week, several of my buddies followed me home from school, where we changed into our official yellow tee shirts and little blue caps, and did fun stuff like building miniature sailboats, eating popcorn, and drinking purple Kool-Aid. Once every six weeks or so, on the weekend, we’d take a field trip, which normally consisted of little more than loading up and visiting the local chicken farm to see where eggs came from.

There is, however, in every Cub Scout’s memory, a “grand-daddyâ€

[Ratkity]

Luv it! As usual

Hugs,
Ratkity