After the Veterans’ Day luncheon at the No Thanks, the Band of Brothers found their favorite places, behind their instruments. They played different genres of patriotic songs while the crowd sang along. Little Emma was dancing by herself until she noticed a register near the end of the bar. She soon figured out she could make it squeak by stepping on a specific corner. Just about the time Lexi was going to make her stop Michael grinned and pointed to the toddler then changed the words in the song. “Listen, my granddaughter is squeaking in time to the music.”
Written in response to Charli Mills’ November 7, 2022, prompt at Carrot Ranch Literary: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that includes something squeaky. What is squeaky and why? How does it move the story or disrupt a character? Listen, write, and go where the prompt leads!
Wearing Army t-shirt and shorts, Michael sat in a wheelchair on stage, his leg stumps showing so all entering the Walter Reed activity room could see. He spoke. “We soldiers share the experience of missing skin and bones. At twice your age I lived the hopelessness and depression you may be feeling.” He turned sideways in the chair, swung himself to the floor, and put on the prosthetic legs lying there. Then using the chair for support, he stood up and walked around. “I’m proof you can heal and become friends with whatever prosthetic you need. You’ve got this.”
Written in response to Charli Mills October 24, 2022, prompt at Carrot Ranch Literary: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about bones. It can be any genre or tone. Is it spooky, irreverent, or poignant? Go where the prompt leads!
The promise of colorful leaves decorating the hillsides, soaring eagles, no waves from loud boats, and few other humans had the veteran friends loading kayaks, paddles, and life-preserver belts into pick-ups. They were looking forward to a relaxing day of natural beauty on Hemlock Lake in western New York State. The lake shores were undeveloped except for a small park at the north end with a gravel boat launch and another launch at the south end. The lack of dwellings was for the good of the water, as it was a protected reservoir for the residents of nearby Rochester.
Written in response to Charli Mills, October 10, 2022, prompt at Carrot Ranch Literary: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that expresses the idea, “for the water.” You can find inspiration in water protection movements. Is it a celebration or a dark dystopian warning? Consider your place and the bodies of water that have shaped you. Go where the prompt leads!
The day Queen Elizabeth II died, Tessa got out her treasured English teapot and the cozy a close friend had given her. She boiled water, took the last of her PG Tips tea bags from their air-tight container, and set the bags to steeping. She fondled her exquisite china cup, milked it, and added one level teaspoon of sugar. When the timer dinged, she filled her cup with the steaming liquid. While watching the TV coverage, she imagined she had crust-removed cucumber sandwiches and hot buttered currant-filled scones to accompany the elixir she had enjoyed while living in England.
Written in response to Charli Mills, October 3, 2022, prompt at Carrot Ranch Literary: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about any ritual involving tea. It can be a daily afternoon tea prepared specifically or the reading of tea leaves in a cup. What do you know? What do you imagine? Is your story deep and ponderous or bright and flash? Go where the prompt leads!
Our wonderful, uncomplaining bus driver, John from FitzGerald Brothers Limo, loaded our luggage into the undercarriage of the bus in the rain. He couldn’t pull the bus under the hotel’s awning because the bus was too tall or, perhaps, the roof was too low. There was more to load than when we started because of the $22,000.00 in purchases the ladies made in 11 shops in three days. We are fabric addicts.
After each store we visited, Jean passed around a notepad, and we wrote down how much we spent. The total above was figured before our last stop and did not include what we paid for hotels or food. Nor does it include the $1,200.00 for gas. (I wonder how long it took to pump that much gas into the bus.) We helped the area’s economy, and I left wanting to return.
Raffles, handouts, and games continued on our way home. We all felt we got our money’s worth with all the prizes, lunches, water, fruit, and baked goods we enjoyed. I was glad to see all the empty water bottles were being saved to return.
We stopped in Erie, PA, at Wegmans for lunch. They definitely weren’t used to being descended upon by 42 people at once. It was comical to see how people reacted when they went past the deli area and saw the typical crowd, and when they turned around, there was a line of six ladies at each counter. One of the ladies took the opportunity to get a 12-pack of Chocolate Lager. I enjoyed some fresh sushi.
The trip’s highlights for me were traveling with my friend, Nancy P., becoming acquainted with the store Bolts and Quarters, getting the perfect pattern and fabric for a special friend’s quilt at The Fabric Shop, seeing a new part of the USA, and making new friends.
All of us with the quilts we donated to Kentucky flood victims.
And now for a farewell bit of advice. Suppose someone, or yourself, has used the bathroom and left an unpleasant smell wafting. All you need to do is light a match over the toilet, let it burn a second, then blow it out and swish the hot end in the water to ensure it is out before throwing it in the wastebasket. The sulfur burning dispels the smell. Nancy thought the function was remarkable so I shared it.
We arrived back in our local area of New York State at 4:30 PM. I don’t know about the others, but I slept most of Sunday and all Monday morning too. I’m not as young as I used to be and not as active either. Thank you to Jean and her quilt guild for taking many extra ladies along. I will be talking about the trip for a long time.
Friday morning we were up early and raring to go. As the bus pulled out of the parking lot, fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, we sang Happy Birthday to Mary M. She wore her tiara and sash all day, celebrating 79. There was quiet talk between Jean, our skillful organizer, and John, our observant bus driver, but nobody paid attention, nor did we realize we were going around a block. Remember, we were in rural Kentucky. Jean soon told us John had noticed the bridge we needed to cross to get out of town had a weight limit sign, and the empty bus weighed 7 tons more than was safe to drive over it. They used GPS to finally find another bridge across the Ohio that could hold us. We got to the first stop fifteen minutes late.
The Old Town Fabric Shop was located in Chillicothe, OH. I bought a fat-quarter package of shirting fabrics and went outside. I noticed some men entering a store a few doors away and went to investigate. It was an archery shop. Once again, my mind went to moonshine, so I went in and made a pest of myself. I learned that you could buy the moonshine shown being made on television in a liquor store, but that didn’t help me. One of the men said he could get me some in a few days, but I would already be back in NY state. It was worth a shot and an interesting diversion. I’m not sure what my bus mates thought of my actions. I didn’t ask.
Again, only one cash register in a store slowed us down, so John took some of us a mile and a half to the next shop, Sew Clever Quilt Shop, also in Chillicothe, OH, then he went back for the others. I learned your bus driver could make the whole trip a notch better. And as you can guess, there was always a line in each bathroom.
It may seem like we had lots of time with only a paragraph about each store, but our schedule was an hour in each store and an hour allowed between each. That makes ten hours. Our lunch was delivered by a local sub shop to the bus while at Sew Clever. Jean had asked for no condiments on the sandwiches, but they were slathered with mayo. I had a warm turkey with cheese, tomato, and lettuce and called it delicious. The ladies who couldn’t eat mayo ended up with salads. And the last few ladies on the bus chose from what was left without complaint. Driving out of Chillicothe, I took some architectural pictures, not because it was so quaint, but because it was so boring. Just what my eyes thought.
Off we went to Nelsonville, OH, to Mae-Lynne Makers Studio. This was one of the smaller stores, and most other storefronts we could see were empty. There was a big parking lot next door for the bus. I admit, by the thirteenth shop, the excitement of seeing new fabrics had waned. It’s called sensory overload. The brick road outside was interesting, as was the stamped concrete between the sidewalk and street. After Nancy, my friend and travel mate, and I got back on the bus, we saw a boy about 12 walk through the parking lot, looking at the bus like it was as unusual as a spaceship. He kept turning his head to look at it again like he didn’t believe what he saw. As I said, it was a rural area.
Our next stop was at The Fabric Shop in Pomeroy, OH. John had come into the store to use the restroom and commented on the personality of the old building. One of the owners heard him and explained it had been the town’s hardware store for years. I swear you could still smell the lumber, oil, and earthy scent from the floorboards. I ordered a pattern for a quilt they had hanging and bought the fun fabric to make it. This store was ready for us with three cutting stations and two cash registers. Unfortunately, it is for sale. Outside I talked to the husbands of the two owners. They showed me a picture of the flood they had five years ago. The Ohio River had to raise16 feet to get up to the street and ankle deep in the store. All I could think of was, what a mess! There was a parking lot across the street, and Kia offered to go over and ask cars not to park so we could make a quick turn-around. They were cooperative and gave us a wave as they went by.
On the other side of Pomeroy, OH, was a tiny store called The Bed Head Cardinal. We all wondered about the name. The young woman who owned the store had an innovative way for us to get our fabric cut. She rang up what we wanted, then her daughter, maybe eight or nine, took the bolts outside, and either her husband or mother cut the yardage. The system worked very well.
We had made up some of the time we lost in the morning, so we made a second stop at Bolts and Quarters so the ladies could get what they were disappointed they didn’t see elsewhere. Brian, the owner, was so excited the big bus came back that he gave all of us an extra gift.
Dinner was at the same Cracker Barrel as Wednesday night, and though we supposedly had reservations, we had to wait for tables. It was Friday night, and they were busy. I probably wouldn’t have cared if I hadn’t been so tired. We stayed at the same Comfort Suites as Wednesday.
Sue Spitulnik 