Sunday, October 30, 2016
..."I've seen wild turkeys before and these birds are definitely not turkeys. They don't have those things under their necks, combs or something?"
"Hmm, I thought combs were only found on chickens?"
"I don't know," I said. "Well, I gotta go, someone is knocking at the door."
"I hope it ain't Merlethem, he he," mom said.
I hoped it wasn't my crazy neighbor, either. However, I wasn't too surprised to see her standing there on my porch, shotgun in hand. "I'm thinking about going after those turkeys, you wanna have a go with old Winston, here?"
"Well, I'm not sure. Why do you call it Winston?"
"Oh, heehehehe, you silly girl, after Winston Churchill, of course. He's saved me arse on more than one occasion."
"Who? Winston Churchill? I didn't think you were in the war?" I asked. As many times as it has happened in the past, I should have known better than to ask Merlethem any questions.
"Well, back in '44, I was just a wee lass and we had just come through the roughest winter. It seems we spent every other hour down in the bomb shelters hiding from those blimey Germans. Whenever we ran into the shelters, we were always told to bring any form of weaponry we had. And this is how old Winston ended up in the Shatz family. Watch this!"
When Merlethem said that, I stepped back and watched in complete disbelief as she raised old Winston to her shoulder and got off two rounds from the double-barrelled beast. "Holy Crap! What in the hell are you shooting at?" I yelled.
"Look there. Look down there." I followed her gaze down to the old chicken house and saw the birds again. Or what was left of them.
"Well, I think you killed 'em," I said. As we walked down the hill to inspect the damage (two birds were dead) we were surprised when the last remaining bird flew over our shoulders and landed near his friends. "Well, Merlethem, it ain't a turkey, that's for sure."
"I guess not. Wretch! Thy God hath lent thee--by these angels, he had sent thee..."
"Huh? You're tripping again. You killed these birds, I hope you're gonna dispose of them." I said and started to walk away when I heard something behind me.
"Nevermore," said the last remaining bird to his friends. Then he turned to us and said, "I'm a turkey buzzard, you nitwits! Now, leave me alone. It's time for my dinner." he said.
And then he dug in...
Saturday, October 29, 2016
Friday, October 28, 2016
...Anyhow, the next few weeks passed uneventfully without any sightings of the birds or my wacky neighbor until one early morning. It was barely daylight and I was outside packing up the car to head out to the flea market when I heard an eerie moan and the following from somewhere near my neighbor's house.
"Whhhooo, prithy, once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore. While I nodded, nearly napping, SUDDENLY there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door..."
"Merlethem, is that you?" I asked. "Who are you talking to? You scared me a little bit." At that point, in the early morning light, I heard a whoosh and a flapping of wings as something very large took flight just over my head. "What the hell is it? Are those buzzards back?" I yelled.
Melethem, whom without my noticing was now standing directly behind me. "Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; 'Tis the wind and nothing more."
"What are you talking about..."
"Open here, I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter..."
"Flirts and flutter, are you drinking again? Man, I gotta go. I'm going to the flea market."
"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing..."
"I know one thing, you're making me wonder," I said as I got in my car. As I was pulling out of my driveway I glanced up at my rear view mirror and there was just enough daylight to see Merlethem standing there, watching me leave, alongside a very strange looking black object that I hadn't seen before.
What was that, I wondered to myself as I drove away...
Thursday, October 27, 2016
Posted by Gianetta at 11:31 AM
Sunday, October 16, 2016
Posted by Gianetta at 10:07 PM
Friday, October 14, 2016
Recently, my sister and her family came to town for a visit. When she takes a road trip, one stop is always a requirement and that is a visit to the local Cracker Barrel. Now, I don't know about other parts of the country, but every Cracker Barrel restaurant that I have ever visited has been standing room only...even in the bathroom.
I have strategies whenever I visit a busy restaurant. First, I go at odd times of the day, like before noon for lunch or around 4:00 p.m. for dinner; that way you beat the crowds most days.
Next, if there is a school bus within eye shot of the parking area, I'm going somewhere else; too many pimples and hormones for me. The same goes for tour or charter buses; I try to avoid these as well.
Also, if I arrive in the parking lot at the same time as another patron, I always try to beat them to the door. Nothing personal, but beating them might be the difference between a seat by the window or a seat back by the open kitchen door, or worse, right in front of the bathroom. Sitting there gives a whole new meaning to "What's that smell?"
Those are all good strategies but they don't work at Cracker Barrel. I think the company knows that too. Why else would they have all of those comfy rocking chairs out front and a gift shop that I always get lost in because I can't seem to stay away from the hard stick candy if they didn't know that waiting was part of the allure?
Anyhow, upon arrival at the restaurant, sure enough, there was a tour bus parked out front. It was later in the afternoon, so maybe they had already eaten and were browsing the gift shop was a thought that passed through my head.
As we hurried in the door trying to beat the minivan full of people that had parked near us, it was soon apparent that my thought was correct: They had finished eating and were browsing the gift shop. It was packed!
I needed to use the facilities immediately upon arrival so I headed through the crowd and tried to enter the bathroom. I made it just inside the door when I fully grasped the situation at hand. In front of me, filling every available empty space was a senior citizen. They were washing their hands and fluffing their blue hair; one had her false teeth out and was applying an extra layer of Poli Grip.
One thing I found quite astonishing was that here was a line for the handicapped stall. Three lovely old ladies and their walkers on wheels waiting patiently to get the stall big enough to turn around in as one of them said.
I don't know how many ladies there was in the ladies room, I do know that I smiled politely and moved out of the way for this one and moved over there for that one. I opened the door twice and I pulled off paper towels for another; all the while getting a little bit nervous because I needed to go myself.
Somehow, at the exact same time, every old lady left in the bathroom wanted to get out at the same time. Some were skipping the hand washing, others had finished with their hair and teeth and every one of them made straight for the door, heading right to me. I had backed as far back in the corner as I could and one lady with a walker said, "Honey, you're gonna have to move, so I can get this thing out the door."
I was trying to move. But the other ladies weren't being cooperative. Instead of backing up against one of the stalls, they were all converging towards the door where I was. Another made a comment about them trying to get out, and then another.
It was a standoff! Finally, after some polite laughter and a loud gurgle from my stomach, I said, "Sorry, I'm bigger than all of ya'll put together and you need to move."
And they did. The lady with the walker maneuvered to the right, another backed into an empty stall and two others backed up against the sinks. "Here ya go, honey. Why don't you use the handicapped stall? It's got an extra roll of paper in it!"
Posted by Gianetta at 12:00 AM