Don’t miss Ailsa’s latest travel theme post – she has a wonderful assortment of sculptures of all kinds! Meanwhile, here’s my interpretation –
Oh. Wait a minute. I’m not sure you can see the sculpture very clearly in this photo – this poor soul who’s waiting so patiently for a ride is blocking your view. Let’s move a few yards down the street and try again…
Posted in 2013, Flowers, Photos
Friday! Time for the Attack of the Fictioneers!
We’re mostly harmless, really. We’re only a vast swarm of storytellers set in motion by Rochelle Wisoff-Field’s weekly choice of – usually strange – photo prompts. All we’ll do to you is expose you to a huge assortment of hundred word tales…and, just possibly, infect you with the irresistible urge to join in.
How do you do that? Easy – go to Rochelle’s site and you can read all the details, and then start typing away. Come, transform yourself into a Fictioneer. It’s fun! (Or, of course, just go to Rochelle’s Linky List to read all the other stories of the week.)
Our music teacher was very dedicated, but kind of strange. Ten or fifteen years of teaching kids with three left feet to march, plus battling with the school board over money for new instruments (the band and the football team got into an argument) – it all wore him down.
So when Mr. Dolber showed up at the dress rehearsal for the school musical, the English teacher who was directing didn’t even blink. Three-tone saddle shoes with floppy green bows? Plaid knee britches? Hey, he always looked like that, or worse. “Emory, this piano’s a mess. Can you tune it?” was all she said when he walked in.
Mr. Dolber always did throw himself into his work.
* * *
(With apologies to high school music teachers everywhere! And to Emory Dolbers, if there are any.)
…as a yesterday in June?
Then, if ever, come perfect days…
(“If ever”? Clearly Lowell was a bit cynical about the weather – but yesterday really was a lovely day, not too hot, not too cold, with a light breeze and a glorious deep blue sky and a handful of white clouds and rich green everywhere.)
Posted in 2013, Good weather
I don’t know how many of you follow Susie Lindau’s blog – but she is just recovering from a bilateral mastectomy. She’s even starting to feel well enough to tell us how things are going – http://susielindau.com/2013/06/08/the-boob-report-iv-coming-out-of-the-haze/.
I wasn’t home to participate in last week’s “Susie Strong” support project, so I’m posting now to wish her a quick and uncomplicated recovery, a successful round of postop treatment, and a long, happy life.
Breast cancer can be beaten – over the past couple of years, two friends of mine have been through this siege and came out the other side triumphant. Meanwhile, all of us other women should be sure to get our routine breast checks, and once again, I want to send Susie my best wishes. ♥ ♥ ♥
This is my longest Fictioneers story ever, even after trimming – more than twice as long as the desired hundred words. Ah well. How else could you get the chance to meet a pobble?
Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting our strange tales!
Poor Pitiful Pobble
The pobble is a fascinating animal, shy and eager to please. Rare, though, very rare – we think. What does it look like? Let me tell you a little story.
A few years back, a pobble wandered into our town. It made one big mistake: it spent the night snuggled up against the wall of a school. Morning came, and with the sunlight, lots of eight-year-olds excited about their trip to the zoo the day before.
“I wish I had a zebra with lots of stripes!” So the pobble changed its hindquarters to be black and white and stripey, because it wanted that child to be happy.
“Who wants a zebra? I want a tiger to chase the zebra.” And the pobble’s middle was covered with orange and black stripes, so it could please the second child.
“Well, I want a giraffe with a great big long neck and I could sit on its head and see right over the top of the school.” Feeling its head shoot high into the air made the pobble dizzy.
“I wish I had an elephant with a long long trunk.” That was too much. The pobble was too shy to trumpet like an elephant, but it couldn’t help letting out a faint unhappy “Bleep”.
Animal control rescued the poor thing, of course. No, you can’t see it. It’s been invisible ever since.
I’m just under the wire this week, but here’s my Fictioneers story at last. (Oh yes – what is this Friday Fictioneers business? Well, every Wednesday the talented Rochelle Wisoff-Fields posts a picture for inspiration, and anyone who wants to can write a hundred words (or a few less, or a few more), post their story on their own blog, and put a link on Rochelle’s list. Want to try? Come on in – it’s June, and the water’s fine!)
Fairy Tales Come True
“She was so lovely,” the prince sighed over breakfast.
The young king and his wife grinned at each other. True love after a ball – it brought back fond memories. “But who was she, brother?” asked the king.
“That’s the trouble. I don’t know!”
“What did she look like?”
The prince thought. “A rose-colored gown – but she wouldn’t wear that today. And she had such wonderful hair.”
The pink gown dangled from a balcony inaccessibly high above the street. The queen looked pleased. “Ella, you’re up to something,” the king said.
“I know who lives here, that’s all.” She stood in the middle of the street, hands on hips, and stared up at the balcony. “Rapunzel! Come out here!”