Story Grace, Mercy and Blessings
- Thread starter PacNorWest
- Start date
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#99
Seamus sent Pricilla and the boys to the basement, when the bells rang. "Ye be leavin the wee ones here with their mooother," he announced, "Suisan you go with yer brooothers and be behaving yerself."
Calvin grabbed the recalcitrant little miss and it was like towing a dead weight, until Pricillia came along and added a swat to the bottom.
"Punky, you grab her other hand and help her down the stairs," The housekeeper had a basket of sandwiches and cookies in one hand and a pitcher of water in the other.
"I gotta potty," Suisan tried one last ditch stall to keep from leaving her daddy.
"I'm sure we can fix something up downstairs," and Pricilla said. "move it." Suisan gave a deep sigh and said something under her breath.
Calvin turned astonished eyes on his sister. "Miz 'Cilla, she just said she gave it a good try. That ain't no baby talkin, that's a sneaky girl trick."
"Indeed it is," Cilla replied. "I'm sure her daddy will be interested to know she can talk and understand so well."
Suisan was trying to think a hundred miles a minute. It put her in a position that she didn't want to be. Like the age old question...do you still beat your wife....there was no good answer. So. to the basement they went.
Seamus had Phoebe in bed resting, a baby snuggled in each arm. "There's no goin dooonstairs love, whatever comes, we'll be riding it out right here. Ooohh I wish I had me pipes, me fingers are itchin to play to the glory of God."
For once, Phoebe said a prayer of praise, that her sweet new babies wouldn't hear the strident music. They were sleeping quietly, and as worn out as she was feeling, she need the time to gather her strength. The clan had banded against Seamus, telling him to go way out into the woods to play his pipes, and he reluctantly agreed.
"Seamus, we need your prayers and thanks to God for the safe birth of our babies. We need you to pray for our safety from whatever is coming in the way of weather. I need you here Seamus, please don't leave me to rush out and play your pipes."
Seamus stiffly got down on his knees beside Phoebe's bed and clasp his hands. Trust Phoebe to keep him on the straight and narrow, he smiled as he opened his heart to praise his Lord.
Mark helped Clora down the narrow stairs into the storm shelter and passed cloth covered bowls of sandwiches, cookies and the all important coffee pot and cups. He looked up to see Wyatt walking from the barn.
"Come to the shelter," Mark invited, "I have no idea what is going to happen with that cloud, but it is weather for sure."
"Thanks, it's way to advanced to try and make a run for home. I guess the animals will be Ok in the barn?"
'I pray that the barn will be adequate, not much we can do until we know what's happening." Mark waved his hand for the Sheriff to precede him into the shelter.
The only family unprepared was the family huddled around stove in Donny's big house. No one had explained what the bells meant, so Sally had Cotton bring in a lot of wood, and she cooked rice and beans as Millie had instructed, and then canned venison as a sauce for the filler. Children ate slowly, enjoying the feel, taste and flavor of the precious food in their mouth. It was Cotton who brought up the anxious question they were all thinking.
"Sally, what we gonna do if this goes away, where we gonna go and live, what we gonna eat?" he asked and all the serious kids nodded. They were having problems believing their good fortune.
"Well, I can only tell ya that Donny says being married is forever, until we are really white haired and old. He says it's his duty and job to provide for us, and our duty to help us all by working together. I've been thinking about this ever since we got here. What Donny is asking is something we can do, I mean, we'd do most of it anyway, so doing that in exchange for a place to live, eat and be safe is something I can do. What do you guys think?"
Kids nodded, and Cotton said, "Donny is a really great teacher. He's learning me how to file a ax and how to chop."
"Donny's teaching me, is the correct way to say that Cotton, did you guys see the books in the one room upstairs? I think we can have some sort of school." Sally smiled and asked if anyone wanted seconds. Everyone did.
Seamus sent Pricilla and the boys to the basement, when the bells rang. "Ye be leavin the wee ones here with their mooother," he announced, "Suisan you go with yer brooothers and be behaving yerself."
Calvin grabbed the recalcitrant little miss and it was like towing a dead weight, until Pricillia came along and added a swat to the bottom.
"Punky, you grab her other hand and help her down the stairs," The housekeeper had a basket of sandwiches and cookies in one hand and a pitcher of water in the other.
"I gotta potty," Suisan tried one last ditch stall to keep from leaving her daddy.
"I'm sure we can fix something up downstairs," and Pricilla said. "move it." Suisan gave a deep sigh and said something under her breath.
Calvin turned astonished eyes on his sister. "Miz 'Cilla, she just said she gave it a good try. That ain't no baby talkin, that's a sneaky girl trick."
"Indeed it is," Cilla replied. "I'm sure her daddy will be interested to know she can talk and understand so well."
Suisan was trying to think a hundred miles a minute. It put her in a position that she didn't want to be. Like the age old question...do you still beat your wife....there was no good answer. So. to the basement they went.
Seamus had Phoebe in bed resting, a baby snuggled in each arm. "There's no goin dooonstairs love, whatever comes, we'll be riding it out right here. Ooohh I wish I had me pipes, me fingers are itchin to play to the glory of God."
For once, Phoebe said a prayer of praise, that her sweet new babies wouldn't hear the strident music. They were sleeping quietly, and as worn out as she was feeling, she need the time to gather her strength. The clan had banded against Seamus, telling him to go way out into the woods to play his pipes, and he reluctantly agreed.
"Seamus, we need your prayers and thanks to God for the safe birth of our babies. We need you to pray for our safety from whatever is coming in the way of weather. I need you here Seamus, please don't leave me to rush out and play your pipes."
Seamus stiffly got down on his knees beside Phoebe's bed and clasp his hands. Trust Phoebe to keep him on the straight and narrow, he smiled as he opened his heart to praise his Lord.
Mark helped Clora down the narrow stairs into the storm shelter and passed cloth covered bowls of sandwiches, cookies and the all important coffee pot and cups. He looked up to see Wyatt walking from the barn.
"Come to the shelter," Mark invited, "I have no idea what is going to happen with that cloud, but it is weather for sure."
"Thanks, it's way to advanced to try and make a run for home. I guess the animals will be Ok in the barn?"
'I pray that the barn will be adequate, not much we can do until we know what's happening." Mark waved his hand for the Sheriff to precede him into the shelter.
The only family unprepared was the family huddled around stove in Donny's big house. No one had explained what the bells meant, so Sally had Cotton bring in a lot of wood, and she cooked rice and beans as Millie had instructed, and then canned venison as a sauce for the filler. Children ate slowly, enjoying the feel, taste and flavor of the precious food in their mouth. It was Cotton who brought up the anxious question they were all thinking.
"Sally, what we gonna do if this goes away, where we gonna go and live, what we gonna eat?" he asked and all the serious kids nodded. They were having problems believing their good fortune.
"Well, I can only tell ya that Donny says being married is forever, until we are really white haired and old. He says it's his duty and job to provide for us, and our duty to help us all by working together. I've been thinking about this ever since we got here. What Donny is asking is something we can do, I mean, we'd do most of it anyway, so doing that in exchange for a place to live, eat and be safe is something I can do. What do you guys think?"
Kids nodded, and Cotton said, "Donny is a really great teacher. He's learning me how to file a ax and how to chop."
"Donny's teaching me, is the correct way to say that Cotton, did you guys see the books in the one room upstairs? I think we can have some sort of school." Sally smiled and asked if anyone wanted seconds. Everyone did.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you Pac. I was sure looking forward to another one of your chapters 
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#100
"I'm not an unreasonable woman," Reva was back downstairs in the cellar. "I had no knowledge of the bell system, and no one bothered to give me a quick sentance concerning what it meant. You sir," she addressed Don; "are not the man in charge of this household. I was not hired to take orders from you, so I need to have information as to who calls the shots here."
"Trish and I do, Don is here recuperating and is a good man to have on our side." Bruce left no doubt as to whom was the head lion in the Ammons household.
Trish was coming downstairs and heard the last sentance. "I do have a couple of new measures we are going to start. you already know about the beans and rice, but we are not going to have anymore raids on the pantry. If you are hungry, we will have rice and or beans available. The food situtation is almost critical. You guys are literally eating us out of house and home. Bruce, you need to start a conditioning program, you, Eddie and Tony are so out of shape that the garden work is going to kick your butt in a couple of weeks. And..." Trish drug the sentance out, "You're not exemped Don. If you are here eating, you are here working."
Mama had decreed, and it was met with a wall of silence. A very unpopular announcement, to be sure.
"I'm not an unreasonable woman," Reva was back downstairs in the cellar. "I had no knowledge of the bell system, and no one bothered to give me a quick sentance concerning what it meant. You sir," she addressed Don; "are not the man in charge of this household. I was not hired to take orders from you, so I need to have information as to who calls the shots here."
"Trish and I do, Don is here recuperating and is a good man to have on our side." Bruce left no doubt as to whom was the head lion in the Ammons household.
Trish was coming downstairs and heard the last sentance. "I do have a couple of new measures we are going to start. you already know about the beans and rice, but we are not going to have anymore raids on the pantry. If you are hungry, we will have rice and or beans available. The food situtation is almost critical. You guys are literally eating us out of house and home. Bruce, you need to start a conditioning program, you, Eddie and Tony are so out of shape that the garden work is going to kick your butt in a couple of weeks. And..." Trish drug the sentance out, "You're not exemped Don. If you are here eating, you are here working."
Mama had decreed, and it was met with a wall of silence. A very unpopular announcement, to be sure.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#100b
"Welcome Sheriff. Come in and have a seat," Clora invited, patting the stool next to her in the narrow, cramped cellar.
"Thank you, that sure is a nasty looking cloud coming, the strangest thing, I oticed that there is no wind, like would portend a storm. Just the black cloud that's coming."
Mark came down the stairs and propped a stick under the door, leaving a foot or more open to the outside. "I want to be able to hear the wind, and a tornado. This is unsettling at best," he muttered.
It was 2:30 in the afternoon on a fine April day and darkness encompassed the farms and town. No wind, no ash like a volcanic eruption, no storm activity, no smoke as from a huge fire, simply darkness that was blacker and thicker than tar.
"Welcome Sheriff. Come in and have a seat," Clora invited, patting the stool next to her in the narrow, cramped cellar.
"Thank you, that sure is a nasty looking cloud coming, the strangest thing, I oticed that there is no wind, like would portend a storm. Just the black cloud that's coming."
Mark came down the stairs and propped a stick under the door, leaving a foot or more open to the outside. "I want to be able to hear the wind, and a tornado. This is unsettling at best," he muttered.
It was 2:30 in the afternoon on a fine April day and darkness encompassed the farms and town. No wind, no ash like a volcanic eruption, no storm activity, no smoke as from a huge fire, simply darkness that was blacker and thicker than tar.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you.
Sneaker 11
RECONDO
I wonder if Mark can see the cliff....................through that opening? Thanks Ms Pac, I sure appreciate your creativity.
11
11
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#101
The swarthy complexioned man furiously pedaled the unusual bicycle pedi-cab recklessly along the former road. It was bumpy, rocky and full of pot holes, and he was behind the timeline, and the pressure on him had to do with losing his life, if he didn't get the 'package' delivered on time.
He had come from the North, and had worked tirelessly to get where the letter had instructed him to be. Fear of the relentless cloud that was staining the sky, pushed his legs faster and strained his breathing.
He found the place and left the 'package' leaning against the back door, exactly as he had been instructed. Heaving a deep sigh of relief, the man got back on his bicycle transportation and pumped his legs just as furiously to leave the area. Without the heavy weight of the 'package', he was considerably faster, and went careening down the road with happiness.
The person was across the Iowa Missouri border before he was overtaken by the black cloud, and he was simply absorbed by the darkness.
Mark, Clora and Wyatt were in the cellar for several hours; before Clora said, "I believe we would be better off, if we were in the house. I don't think this is a tornado storm."
Mark opened the shelter door and there was only darkness, no wind stirring. "There's no smell to the darkness," he reported, "just strange. It's 27 steps from the stairs to the back door. I will lead, then Clora and then Wyatt. We need to hold hands, I don't want anyone lost. When you get to the top of the steps, I'd like you to close the cellar door Sheriff, I don't want an open hole in this darkness. Ready?"
There was no problem going from the storm cellar to the back door; until Mark crashed into the large package barring the doorway.
The swarthy complexioned man furiously pedaled the unusual bicycle pedi-cab recklessly along the former road. It was bumpy, rocky and full of pot holes, and he was behind the timeline, and the pressure on him had to do with losing his life, if he didn't get the 'package' delivered on time.
He had come from the North, and had worked tirelessly to get where the letter had instructed him to be. Fear of the relentless cloud that was staining the sky, pushed his legs faster and strained his breathing.
He found the place and left the 'package' leaning against the back door, exactly as he had been instructed. Heaving a deep sigh of relief, the man got back on his bicycle transportation and pumped his legs just as furiously to leave the area. Without the heavy weight of the 'package', he was considerably faster, and went careening down the road with happiness.
The person was across the Iowa Missouri border before he was overtaken by the black cloud, and he was simply absorbed by the darkness.
Mark, Clora and Wyatt were in the cellar for several hours; before Clora said, "I believe we would be better off, if we were in the house. I don't think this is a tornado storm."
Mark opened the shelter door and there was only darkness, no wind stirring. "There's no smell to the darkness," he reported, "just strange. It's 27 steps from the stairs to the back door. I will lead, then Clora and then Wyatt. We need to hold hands, I don't want anyone lost. When you get to the top of the steps, I'd like you to close the cellar door Sheriff, I don't want an open hole in this darkness. Ready?"
There was no problem going from the storm cellar to the back door; until Mark crashed into the large package barring the doorway.
Nature_Lover
Wait! What?
Thank you Pac!
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Man, more cliff, lol.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#102
Wyatt was a bit slow climbing out of the dark cellar into the complete darkness of the day. Or, at least he thought it was still daytime. The black nothingness they were moving around in, was more completely void of light, than the darkest of nights.
Ivory went rushing past the Sheriff and Clora to suddenly stop at the back door and growl loudly at the package. Or, at least that's what Mark supposed she was doing. The lantern illuminated no more that a small circle around the source, and Mark complained about the darkness.
"It's like this darkness absorbs the light. I'm holding hands with you Clora and I can't even see you. There's some kind of barrier against the door, and I don't want to let go of your hand to move it aside. I don't want to put the lantern down either."
"What if Wyatt and I crowd up against you and I reach my hand out to open the door while Wyatt steadies the 'whatever it is?' Ivory, stop," Clora commanded, so she could head Mark's voice.
"Yeah, let's do that," and Mark applied pressure to Clora's hand to bring her forward. That in turn guided Wyatt to stand in a tight threesome at the door. Reaching out his hand, Wyatt could feel the top of the 'package' he couldn't see.
"I've got my left hand on it," he announced, and gave the cardboard feeling box an experimental shake. "It's heavy, and leaning in a slant toward the door. I believe in order to steady it, I'm going to have to use both hands."
"Ok," Mark agreed, "steady it, and let go of Clora and I'll have her twist the knob."
The sheriff let go of Clora's hand and she extended her finger out in front of her until she met the solid resistance of the wooden door. Sweeping her fingers to the right, she finally connected with the door knob and twisted it open.
There was a grunt of surprise as Wyatt took the full weight of the box and jerked to steady the heavy object. Going into the dark house spilled the light in a more feeble pattern and Mark guided Clora inside.
"I'm walking to the table to light a lamp," she announced, "I'll get the lantern and you can help Wyatt with whatever that is. Mighty strange for it to have appeared in the darkness. Do you think it's safe to bring it in?"
"Not sure about anything," Mark mumbled, as the lantern light had better effect illuminating the inside of the house,
Clora lit the lantern and the light was enough, combined with the lantern, to see the writing and series of stamps and cancellations littered across the face of the cardboard.
"That's different writing, looks like a lot of squiggles," Wyatt observed, "but what ever is in here is heavy. Without the door to hold it up, it wants to tip over."
Clora hurried to grab the lantern and Mark and Wyatt wrestled the cumbersome box inside and shut the door against the light swallowing blackness.
As they moved the box, there was a faint clinking sound from inside, almost too faint to be heard. Mark unsheathed his fixed blade and ran the sharpness around the tape securing the box together, and as he neared what he had started, the worn box fell open and five ornately scrolled, stoppered and heavy urns tumbled out and clanked together on the floor.
Wyatt was a bit slow climbing out of the dark cellar into the complete darkness of the day. Or, at least he thought it was still daytime. The black nothingness they were moving around in, was more completely void of light, than the darkest of nights.
Ivory went rushing past the Sheriff and Clora to suddenly stop at the back door and growl loudly at the package. Or, at least that's what Mark supposed she was doing. The lantern illuminated no more that a small circle around the source, and Mark complained about the darkness.
"It's like this darkness absorbs the light. I'm holding hands with you Clora and I can't even see you. There's some kind of barrier against the door, and I don't want to let go of your hand to move it aside. I don't want to put the lantern down either."
"What if Wyatt and I crowd up against you and I reach my hand out to open the door while Wyatt steadies the 'whatever it is?' Ivory, stop," Clora commanded, so she could head Mark's voice.
"Yeah, let's do that," and Mark applied pressure to Clora's hand to bring her forward. That in turn guided Wyatt to stand in a tight threesome at the door. Reaching out his hand, Wyatt could feel the top of the 'package' he couldn't see.
"I've got my left hand on it," he announced, and gave the cardboard feeling box an experimental shake. "It's heavy, and leaning in a slant toward the door. I believe in order to steady it, I'm going to have to use both hands."
"Ok," Mark agreed, "steady it, and let go of Clora and I'll have her twist the knob."
The sheriff let go of Clora's hand and she extended her finger out in front of her until she met the solid resistance of the wooden door. Sweeping her fingers to the right, she finally connected with the door knob and twisted it open.
There was a grunt of surprise as Wyatt took the full weight of the box and jerked to steady the heavy object. Going into the dark house spilled the light in a more feeble pattern and Mark guided Clora inside.
"I'm walking to the table to light a lamp," she announced, "I'll get the lantern and you can help Wyatt with whatever that is. Mighty strange for it to have appeared in the darkness. Do you think it's safe to bring it in?"
"Not sure about anything," Mark mumbled, as the lantern light had better effect illuminating the inside of the house,
Clora lit the lantern and the light was enough, combined with the lantern, to see the writing and series of stamps and cancellations littered across the face of the cardboard.
"That's different writing, looks like a lot of squiggles," Wyatt observed, "but what ever is in here is heavy. Without the door to hold it up, it wants to tip over."
Clora hurried to grab the lantern and Mark and Wyatt wrestled the cumbersome box inside and shut the door against the light swallowing blackness.
As they moved the box, there was a faint clinking sound from inside, almost too faint to be heard. Mark unsheathed his fixed blade and ran the sharpness around the tape securing the box together, and as he neared what he had started, the worn box fell open and five ornately scrolled, stoppered and heavy urns tumbled out and clanked together on the floor.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Big thank you, gads urns again wow.
steamroller
Contributing Member
Haven't seen any urns in quite a while.
Sammy55
Veteran Member
Geez! I can't remember the urns!! I will have to go back to the very first book and re-read everything! Oh, noes!
(Unless someone would be so kind to help me remember.... TYIA!)
Thanks, Pac, for this chapter, although it made me shiver with more than a little fright at a darkness like this!
(Unless someone would be so kind to help me remember.... TYIA!)
Thanks, Pac, for this chapter, although it made me shiver with more than a little fright at a darkness like this!
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Just start w/ the book before this one
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
"five ornately scrolled, stoppered and heavy urns tumbled out and clanked together on the floor."
Maybe it should have been a trio of disappearing delivery men? I mean if the urns are back, what the heck -- how much more confusing would ANOTHER set of triplets be?
Amazing! After 3500+ pages, you still manage to surprise! Masterful Ma'am.
THX
G.
Maybe it should have been a trio of disappearing delivery men? I mean if the urns are back, what the heck -- how much more confusing would ANOTHER set of triplets be?
Amazing! After 3500+ pages, you still manage to surprise! Masterful Ma'am.
THX
G.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#103
"Well, isn't that just dandy. I can't think of a more useless, unwanted item, to fall into our life," Clora was as sarcastic as Mark had ever heard her.
"Man, what are those?" Wyatt squinted against the light of the oil lantern, the slashing writing covering the wrapping meaningless to him.
Mark was surprised when Ivory muscled into the room and lay between Clora and the urns. The dog growled low, definitely unsettled by the smell of the brassy looking pitchers.
"What they are," Mark was pained by the sight of the unwanted urns, "is a big pain in the rear." Mark skipped over any other explanation, their dealings with the ruling family of Saudi Arabia, was a private affair.
"I'll just move them over here, out of our way," Mark lifted the unusually heavy urn and leaned it carefully against the wall. He moved the other four and acted like the urns were a nuisance to be better forgotten.
"Ivory, move over so I can get up," Clora nudged the dog with her foot. She needed coffee if she had to deal with the unexpected aggravation of the urns.
Clora fiddled with her beautiful stove, the draft sluggish and unwilling to perform properly. "This is strange," she was muttering, "this stove has always had a strong draw."
"This whole cloud thing is strange. Did you notice that the lantern barely gave off any light outside. It was like the darkness was absorbing the light, almost eating it," Mark's fanciful announcement was agreed to, but not wanted.
"Ahh, nonsense," Wyatt reproved calmly, "but I do have to agree the lantern seems brighter in here."
Mark walked over to help Clora get the fire drawing, and between the two of them, they got a anemic flame going.
Mark looked around the kitchen, and his eyes stopped at the clock. "I believe I will wind the clock early, so it doesn't stop." and he opened the face and used the key to keep the machine chiming the half and then the hour.
Wyatt watched him and shrugged.
'if we don't," Mark was philosophical, "we won't be able to tell day from night, as there's no sun to keep us oriented. It's now 5 in the evening, so I'm gonna set an alarm for 5 in the morning. Sleep happens better when you follow the circadian rhythm. In darkness such as this, you might sleep six hours and feel like you had slept three, or twelve. When that happens, a person gets disoriented ."
"I guess I never paid any attention," Wyatt admitted. "Aren't you afraid the Miss Tess and her boys will become all fouled up the same way?" His curiosity was talking.
"No," Mark replied, "Tessee knows to do the same thing."
"Well, isn't that just dandy. I can't think of a more useless, unwanted item, to fall into our life," Clora was as sarcastic as Mark had ever heard her.
"Man, what are those?" Wyatt squinted against the light of the oil lantern, the slashing writing covering the wrapping meaningless to him.
Mark was surprised when Ivory muscled into the room and lay between Clora and the urns. The dog growled low, definitely unsettled by the smell of the brassy looking pitchers.
"What they are," Mark was pained by the sight of the unwanted urns, "is a big pain in the rear." Mark skipped over any other explanation, their dealings with the ruling family of Saudi Arabia, was a private affair.
"I'll just move them over here, out of our way," Mark lifted the unusually heavy urn and leaned it carefully against the wall. He moved the other four and acted like the urns were a nuisance to be better forgotten.
"Ivory, move over so I can get up," Clora nudged the dog with her foot. She needed coffee if she had to deal with the unexpected aggravation of the urns.
Clora fiddled with her beautiful stove, the draft sluggish and unwilling to perform properly. "This is strange," she was muttering, "this stove has always had a strong draw."
"This whole cloud thing is strange. Did you notice that the lantern barely gave off any light outside. It was like the darkness was absorbing the light, almost eating it," Mark's fanciful announcement was agreed to, but not wanted.
"Ahh, nonsense," Wyatt reproved calmly, "but I do have to agree the lantern seems brighter in here."
Mark walked over to help Clora get the fire drawing, and between the two of them, they got a anemic flame going.
Mark looked around the kitchen, and his eyes stopped at the clock. "I believe I will wind the clock early, so it doesn't stop." and he opened the face and used the key to keep the machine chiming the half and then the hour.
Wyatt watched him and shrugged.
'if we don't," Mark was philosophical, "we won't be able to tell day from night, as there's no sun to keep us oriented. It's now 5 in the evening, so I'm gonna set an alarm for 5 in the morning. Sleep happens better when you follow the circadian rhythm. In darkness such as this, you might sleep six hours and feel like you had slept three, or twelve. When that happens, a person gets disoriented ."
"I guess I never paid any attention," Wyatt admitted. "Aren't you afraid the Miss Tess and her boys will become all fouled up the same way?" His curiosity was talking.
"No," Mark replied, "Tessee knows to do the same thing."
RememberGoliad
Veteran Member
Thanks, PAC, for all your time and thought you put into this saga that's kept us entertained and thinking for so many years!
******************
FB, your observation reminds me of these two Aggies who were a little late when they entered a pig in the county fair, and were stressing about how to fatten him up enough to be in contention for the prizes. About a week before the fair, they're standing in the barn looking at their skinny little pig and dismaying over his lack of size. Bubba says to Jim Bob, "Ya know, he eats and then poops almost immediately. Why can't we jam a cork in there and stop the pass-through, and he'd have no choice but to gain weight, then we pull the cork after the showing?" Jim Bob agrees with that, so they do, the pig puts on weight dramatically, and takes home the 2nd place ribbon and the resulting $500 prize.
A few days after they get home, they're out there with the pig again, and he seems in a bit of distress. Jim Bob tells Bubba, "It was your idea to put that cork in, so get in there and take it out. He looks like he's really gotta go."
"Nuh-uh, I ain't doin' that!" Bubba replied. "But I have an idea. My cousin's got a monkey that loves to take the stopper out of the cookie jar on the counter, and Goober's got that monkey trained where all he gotta do is point at the jar and say 'get me a cookie' and the monkey does. Reckon we might borrow that monkey and see if it'll pull the cork?"
With Jim Bob's enthusiastic agreement, they run down the road to Goober's place to borrow the monkey. Goober's not home, but the monkey is, and recognizes Bubba and comes to him. They get the monkey in the pickup and head back to see if they can get the monkey to do the job and maybe even get him back before Goober even gets home and misses him.
Two days later, Jim Bob wakes up in the hospital in the ICU. Groggy and moaning, he gets the attention of the duty nurse, who excitedly gets on the phone and shortly after a whole team of doctors and policemen come rushing in. "Jim Bob, your buddy Bubba is still on life support. Can't figure out what happened though.... Can you provide any insight into what caused all this? Do you remember anything?"
Jim Bob is kinda moaning and groaning and trying to remember. He says "Naw, sir, I don't remember much. All I remember is crap flyin' everywhere and a monkey tryin' to stuff the cork back in!"
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FB, your observation reminds me of these two Aggies who were a little late when they entered a pig in the county fair, and were stressing about how to fatten him up enough to be in contention for the prizes. About a week before the fair, they're standing in the barn looking at their skinny little pig and dismaying over his lack of size. Bubba says to Jim Bob, "Ya know, he eats and then poops almost immediately. Why can't we jam a cork in there and stop the pass-through, and he'd have no choice but to gain weight, then we pull the cork after the showing?" Jim Bob agrees with that, so they do, the pig puts on weight dramatically, and takes home the 2nd place ribbon and the resulting $500 prize.
A few days after they get home, they're out there with the pig again, and he seems in a bit of distress. Jim Bob tells Bubba, "It was your idea to put that cork in, so get in there and take it out. He looks like he's really gotta go."
"Nuh-uh, I ain't doin' that!" Bubba replied. "But I have an idea. My cousin's got a monkey that loves to take the stopper out of the cookie jar on the counter, and Goober's got that monkey trained where all he gotta do is point at the jar and say 'get me a cookie' and the monkey does. Reckon we might borrow that monkey and see if it'll pull the cork?"
With Jim Bob's enthusiastic agreement, they run down the road to Goober's place to borrow the monkey. Goober's not home, but the monkey is, and recognizes Bubba and comes to him. They get the monkey in the pickup and head back to see if they can get the monkey to do the job and maybe even get him back before Goober even gets home and misses him.
Two days later, Jim Bob wakes up in the hospital in the ICU. Groggy and moaning, he gets the attention of the duty nurse, who excitedly gets on the phone and shortly after a whole team of doctors and policemen come rushing in. "Jim Bob, your buddy Bubba is still on life support. Can't figure out what happened though.... Can you provide any insight into what caused all this? Do you remember anything?"
Jim Bob is kinda moaning and groaning and trying to remember. He says "Naw, sir, I don't remember much. All I remember is crap flyin' everywhere and a monkey tryin' to stuff the cork back in!"
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
I think they need to take those urns outside some where, get rid of them.