Musical Choices

I’m a bit late, but here’s my response to Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt

The Jamboree and the Funeral

“Why’s all this traffic on the road this morning?”

“Big country music jamboree near Regina. Starts at noon, every first of August.”

“Fast food places will be packed. Hope we can find a table when we’re ready to stop.”

“Feels funny, you know. All these folks heading for a party and we’re going to say our last goodbye to dear Aunt May. Solemn music, tears and tissues.”

Two hours later, as the funeral started, they were surprised to hear Garth Brooks singing “If Tomorrow Never Comes.”

Note/Confession:
Funeral music has changed a lot, I thought as we listened to “Born To Be Wild” at the end of the service for my brother-in-law. Which gave me the idea for this story, but Google had to help me with this one. I’ve never heard this song, but read the words and it looked like something that might fly at a funeral — the general theme being, “Say those loving words today to the people you love, in case this is your last chance and tomorrow never comes.”

There is an annual Country music Jamboree every year at Craven a small town not far from Regina, SK. At least there was before COVID hit.

Happy Returns?

It’s Monday morning again — the return of the workday week. And I’m back with another belated blog post. This is in response to Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt, and I’m giving you two for one. the first I wrote last night — when it still was the weekend –and the second this morning, when I decided on something more upbeat. You can tell me which you like best.

Back to Square One?

I think, Ramon, we’d better return to our former relationship.

I don’t get it. Like “just friends”?

Like “total strangers.”

So…like…you don’t want to marry me after all?

Got it!

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Some, more ready to trust, alight
as soon as I’ve walked away;
some timid, slower to return.
Still, a rousing chorus
greets me when I appear
with my bag of birdseed.

Image by Gordon Johnson — Pixabay

Smothered In Sauce

Sammi’s writing prompt this weekend is a real challenge:

And here’s my response:

“My cake flopped,” the newlywed lamented. “It rose so nice, then it caved!”

“Make some chocolate sauce,” Mom suggested. “Warm and thick, smother each piece of cake. That was Grandma recipe for flops. We loved it.”

It’s said that back in homesteading days seasoned cooks advised drowning inferior baking with whipped cream. Since they all had a milk cow or two, they had easy access to cream — and cholesterol was unheard of. I’ve modernized the idea. 🙂