Attractive Offers

Parking

As you can see, parking was tight in front of the Haggleburg General Store two days before Thanksgiving.

The reason for this was obvious to everyone who lived there. On the Monday before the holiday Geordie MacLellan, a poultry farmer west of town, would butcher his young turkeys. This gave local cooks time to choose their birds and get them in the oven for Thursday’s Thanksgiving meal. On Tuesday morning Geordie’s three teenage daughters came to town and set up a table beside the General Store. Here they would sell fresh young turkeys all morning.

Everyone knew Geordie’s birds were attractive, plump speciens with nicely toned flesh and exquisite drumsticks. In the heat they’d toast up to an appealing golden brown. The street by the store would be crowded as young bachelors from the surrounding area came to eye Georgie’s birds and dream of home- cooked feasts.

Of course they planned to do a little visiting with Geordie’s daughters, too, the girls being quite attractive in their own way. Seasoned cooks sorting through the poultry would wink at each other as some young blade let it be known, in forlorn tones, that he had no plans for a Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone knew the girls were allowed to invite guests — but no more than a dozen! — for the day.

The MacLellan girls were reputed to be as good cooks as their mother. And the MacLellan men liked to eat. An invitation to join Geordie’s family for a holiday meal was the ticket to a day in gourmet glory. Young men made sure they got to town very early that day to do their shopping.

So now you know, too, why parking spaces were hard to find on Main Street in Haggleburg on the Tuesday morning before Thanksgiving.

I really went to town with Fandango’s prompt today: PARKING

Beset By Techno-Trials

Fandango’s challenge for today: TRIALS

Very fitting, seeing I am having serious trials with Word Press on my PC. In the first place the computer is slow to load and obey any commands. Secondly, blogs I click on, wanting to read the latest post, often come up squashed to the left side of my screen so I have to click on the title to make the blog come up normally. Sometimes it just won’t.

I don’t see LIKE buttons on anyone’s blog, just a tab saying “Loading…” Worst of all, I can’t customize or access my dashboard to make any changes. I don’t know what ails the thing; it works fine in with all my other programmes.

Thankfully it’s business as usual working from my laptop, everything comes up as it’s supposed to, including the WP Administration. Are any of the rest of you having trouble with WordPress or is it really all in my PC’s electronics?

You’ll notice the lovely header I put up yesterday in memory of our recent snowfalls. I’ll soon have to replace it, though, as the temp today is supposed to be 7̊C ( 44 F) and on Sunday 11̊C. (52 F) I was just hoping for a smidge of sympathy from the WP crowd. 😉

Now here’s a chuckle for you. We writers have our TRIALS and one of them is wandering metaphors that settle in the wrong part of the sentence. Actually this perfect illustration comes from the book Sixth Cabin, A Writer’s Retreat Mystery by Kathi Daley. This is a very interesting cozy mystery with a rare — SPOILER ALERT! — relatively happy ending. And fine editing except for this one eye-catcher:

What the Well Dressed Burger — or Jack — is Wearing…

I sat in the waiting room with Jack eating a cold hamburger wearing a dress that cost more than my first car.

Expressions

SOME WISE QUOTES:

Some people make such thorough preparations for rainy days that they don’t enjoy today’s sunshine. —William Feathertwo women with man hugging by the sea

Happiness is making yourself important to someone. —Frank Tyler

Each happiness of yesterday is a memory for tomorrow.

My response to Fandango’s FOWC prompt: EXPRESSION

Letter from the Tropics

This letter is my response to various one-word challenges for today.

Beach scene

Dear Mom & Dad,

Not much doing here this evening so I thought I’d write you a letter — by battery-powered lamp-light, if you can believe it. My room-mate’s doing exercises to burn off the calories from last night’s feast. We were supposed to be lying on the beach enjoying a sunlit sea but they can’t schedule the weather here anymore than we can at home. Good thing our hotel puts a couple these lamps in every room. Now if only the air-conditioning would work!

Hope you like the postcard I’ve enclosed. Yesterday at the market I bought a bunch to send back to the folks at work with the usual, “Wish you were here.” Now I’m debating: should I leave them to envy me, thinking I’m having a wonderful trip? Or should I tell them the truth: we’re in the grip of a tropical deluge, wind and rain like you wouldn’t believe! And no power. 😦

Hurricane

There’s a beautiful sandy beach in front of our hotel just like you see in this photo — at least it was there yesterday — but it’s been evacuated because of the storm and the huge breakers rolling in. Hopefully the sand will still be there when this storm ends, not all washed out to sea.

The power went out at noon. You’ll be thinking, surely the hotel has generators? Yes, and the management got them running within half an hour. But by 2pm they ran out of gas. The shortage was investigated and we heard the janitor’s assistant was sacked when management found out he’s been selling gallons of gas to his poor relatives on the sly. They’ve ordered a delivery of more gas, but it hasn’t arrived yet, so we’re sweltering in this heat and humidity. Oppressive, our Prof says, for lack of a longer word.

You’ll see I’ve picked a postcard with the quintessential beach scene. Prof’s word for today. I told you in my last letter about Professor Hoffmeyer, one of the men who bought this holiday package deal. Of course we call him Prof-meyer. A lover of big words. “Oxford-educated and he can’t speak English,” Kyle says.

Kyle and Caylee are a young couple from Philadelphia. I doubt either of them is more than eighteen. Kyle has Grade Eight, he says, but I’m sure it’s only because teachers can’t fail anyone nowadays. Grew up dirt poor in some tenement slum — been together for a couple of years now. Two months ago they happened to pick the lucky ticket and won a two-million dollar lottery. Wonders never cease.

First thing Kyle did was buy Caylee an engagement ring. You should see that rock! They’re planning to tie the knot at some special place on this tour.

Of course as soon as their relatives heard the news, they all came to “borrow a bit” for some sudden emergency, so K & C knew they’d better make themselves scarce or friends and needy relations would bleed them dry. Smart move. A tropical holiday may not have been their best first choice but family can’t follow them here and we’re trying to help them acquire some dollar-and-sense smarts.

They seem like good kids, really. They’re ready to spend, but we plead with them to be careful. It’s amazing how fast money can disappear and none of us wants to see them flat broke a few years from now. One of the men on this tour is a retired banker and he’s taken them under his wing, giving some fatherly financial advice — something they’ve likely never had in their lives. The important thing is, they’re listening and learning.

Anyway, they don’t see eye to eye — or should I say tongue to tongue? — with Prof-meyer’s highbrow English. He means well, but he just can’t talk in one-syllable words. Yesterday when we hit the local outdoor market — where I bought this postcard, by the way — Prof looked over the scene and exclaimed, “Ah, the quintessential local market!” Kyle looked blank for a moment, then said, “It looks pretty typical to me. We have these in Philly, too.”

The rest of us grinned and adopted “quintessential” as our new buzzword of the day. We’re making a game of sticking it in wherever we can. And once we got our money changed to the local currency, Prof-meyer announced that he was going to “sally forth to acquire the accouterments of the typical tourist.” (Accouterments will have to be our word tomorrow.)

Kyle was stumped for a bit, then said, “Not us. We’re just gonna buy some stuff to show the folks back home where we been.”

“Be very careful, kids,” Prof warned them. “Folks here aren’t very conscientious with the truth about market prices.”

Kyle and Caylee looked blank until another tourist whispered, “He means they’re apt to fleece you if you don’t watch it.”

“Oh, that I understand,” Kyle told him. “We’ll be careful.”

Of course, before long we were surrounded by the quintessential haggling merchants and starving waifs begging coins, with the quintessential ‘Artful Dodger’ mixed in. And the usual gregarious sorts wanting to welcome you to their island with a hearty embrace while an accomplice slips your wallet out of your pocket. Prof lost his, but it held nothing of special value. Guess he’s traveled a lot in his day.

As we were leaving the church bells started ringing and Prof-meyer started spouting about the felicitous tintinnabulation. A few of us who heard him rolled our eyes and shook our heads. My roommate and I were behind Kyle and Caylee and heard him whisper to her that ‘Tabulation means counting, my math teacher told me once. So I think the Prof’s wanting to count the ting-ting-ting of the bells.” That gave us a chuckle.

Hey. The lights just came back on! The fuel truck must have made it through. Good thing, because they say this storm is supposed to last all through tomorrow as well. SIGH! So much for our tropical holiday — “palm trees waving in the breeze,” etc.

Anyway, I hope you’re having a good week. Wish you were here. 🙂

Love from your drenched daughter,
Contessa

Fandango’s FOWC:  QUINTESSENTIAL
RAGTAG Daily Prompt:  EMBRACE
Your Daily Word:  TINTINNABULATION
Word of the Day:  GREGARIOUS
Daily Addictions prompt: PLEAD

More For-Fun Haiku

mission accomplished
Henry the Hereford rests in the shade
bull dozer

Local farmers plan their herd’s “seasonal activities” well. In the pastures around us now we’re seeing the offspring from last summer’s mating season. Though around here the cattle are almost all Black Angus.

Also noticed on a recent walk:

poplar shoots
punch holes in our driveway
a hostile takeover

Writing its memoir?

flick of my finger
sends the spider flying
scribbling its last line