Monday, September 5, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
First Grade
First Grade
A short story by Diana Weeks
First grade, it was all my neighbor and best friend, Ruth Junior, talked about the summer of 1941. Her mother, Ruth Senior, was telling my mother “Betty, I can barely wait for school to start…Joseph is on my last nerve.” Ruthy’s brother Joe is ten. We’re six, me barely.
My mom …never shy…spoke up. “Joan” that’s me…”says he’s been killing the girls’ horned toads”. .
We were collecting horned toads because they were mascots for Texas Christian University, our cow town’s higher education school…It was my Uncle Pinky’s idea…to collect horned toads.
He wanted them to dissect for a science project…they ran out of frogs.
My red haired Uncle “Pinky” lived with us…Pink marches with the TCU band. …Grandpa pays his room rent. His clarinet playing… got him a college scholarship.
Ruth sighs. “Joseph denies being a horn toad murderer…he claims it was an accident.”
Mom coughed. “The stolen red brick from the pile at the new house down the street…accidentally… fell squarely on the frog in the center of the girls back yard path… to your house…where our innocent girls… would… for sure find it”
Ruth sobered. “Well, I’ll have to tell his father…but the toads life was going to be taken by science….the toads weren’t going to escape and join the circus.” Mom gave a thumbs down sign…that means she doesn’t except the excuse. Both women laugh…Ruth Sr. adds “I don’t think Joseph was mad at the frog…he was mad at Ruthy for eating the last cookie yesterday.
Ruthy stood just behind me… huddled against the yellow flower covered paper on the hall wall… where we hold our breath and listened to grown ups talk. No crime is discussed in our presence.
Their next topic concerned where to have the doctor vaccinate us, a necessity to start school. Ruth Sr. did not want a big round scar on her daughter’s upper arm…where people can see it…like Joseph’s small pox scar had turned out.
We have appointments with the same doctor this afternoon. School starts next Monday, but we had to wait for payday to get the three dollar shot. I don’t care where I’m vaccinated just so the needle doesn’t hurt. They say it won’t… but it always does.
When our mom’s started talking about recipes…we quietly back away to cut out paper dolls in Ruth’s room.
Ruth has her own room. I’m back in my parent’s room since Uncle Pink arrived. Ha, he says I’m disrespectful for calling him “Pink” instead of Pinky.
Joe comes to the door of Ruthy’s room with his hand behind his back. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” Then he hands her a candy box and runs outside. Ruthy opens the box and screams…and drops the box and a green snake peeks out.
I picked it up. “Shhhh, it’s just a grass snake.” I dropped it out a window.
Ruthy made a fist. “We’ve got to get Joe back….We’ll tell him the snake escaped to Mom and Dads’ room… we’re for- bidden to enter!
Good idea I agree. “That will make him sweat. And that’s always fun.”
THE END
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
A short story by Diana Weeks
First grade, it was all my neighbor and best friend, Ruth Junior, talked about the summer of 1941. Her mother, Ruth Senior, was telling my mother “Betty, I can barely wait for school to start…Joseph is on my last nerve.” Ruthy’s brother Joe is ten. We’re six, me barely.
My mom …never shy…spoke up. “Joan” that’s me…”says he’s been killing the girls’ horned toads”. .
We were collecting horned toads because they were mascots for Texas Christian University, our cow town’s higher education school…It was my Uncle Pinky’s idea…to collect horned toads.
He wanted them to dissect for a science project…they ran out of frogs.
My red haired Uncle “Pinky” lived with us…Pink marches with the TCU band. …Grandpa pays his room rent. His clarinet playing… got him a college scholarship.
Ruth sighs. “Joseph denies being a horn toad murderer…he claims it was an accident.”
Mom coughed. “The stolen red brick from the pile at the new house down the street…accidentally… fell squarely on the frog in the center of the girls back yard path… to your house…where our innocent girls… would… for sure find it”
Ruth sobered. “Well, I’ll have to tell his father…but the toads life was going to be taken by science….the toads weren’t going to escape and join the circus.” Mom gave a thumbs down sign…that means she doesn’t except the excuse. Both women laugh…Ruth Sr. adds “I don’t think Joseph was mad at the frog…he was mad at Ruthy for eating the last cookie yesterday.
Ruthy stood just behind me… huddled against the yellow flower covered paper on the hall wall… where we hold our breath and listened to grown ups talk. No crime is discussed in our presence.
Their next topic concerned where to have the doctor vaccinate us, a necessity to start school. Ruth Sr. did not want a big round scar on her daughter’s upper arm…where people can see it…like Joseph’s small pox scar had turned out.
We have appointments with the same doctor this afternoon. School starts next Monday, but we had to wait for payday to get the three dollar shot. I don’t care where I’m vaccinated just so the needle doesn’t hurt. They say it won’t… but it always does.
When our mom’s started talking about recipes…we quietly back away to cut out paper dolls in Ruth’s room.
Ruth has her own room. I’m back in my parent’s room since Uncle Pink arrived. Ha, he says I’m disrespectful for calling him “Pink” instead of Pinky.
Joe comes to the door of Ruthy’s room with his hand behind his back. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” Then he hands her a candy box and runs outside. Ruthy opens the box and screams…and drops the box and a green snake peeks out.
I picked it up. “Shhhh, it’s just a grass snake.” I dropped it out a window.
Ruthy made a fist. “We’ve got to get Joe back….We’ll tell him the snake escaped to Mom and Dads’ room… we’re for- bidden to enter!
Good idea I agree. “That will make him sweat. And that’s always fun.”
THE END
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Sunday, July 10, 2011
War Time
War Time
A short story by Diana Weeks
I was supposed to be listening to “Terry and the Pirates” on the radio with Buddy… my black mailer brother… but I was leaning towards the radio to give a “glance over the shoulder” reassurance look…I was listening to my mother and her close friend Gertrude talk…about the war with the Japs and the Not-zees”.
I’m not allowed to ease-drop…but that only makes it more fun…more a game that can be won or lost… Mother did not allow any talk about the war at our dinner table “War… is not… a fit subject… for children. We were always sent from the room… when an adult came into a room I was in… with another adult. I had to walk out or wait 10 seconds and get kicked out.
Mother might slowly say “Children, go play monopoly” to us and in a slight whisper she’d tell her companion…adult conversation is forbidden…for children
No argument about the unfairness…we live here too…Children are children and adults are adults…as adults they are given “free will”…do they give us children any “free will”…No “free will’s not for youth…kids need to be sheltered.. reality needs the wisdom you gain by living any way you want to…but not kids…they don’t know anything.
Me and my best friend Patricia. Pat is the niece of my mom’s best friend, Gertrude, whose two boys aged ten and six were on the floor close to the radio exiled like us…But they didn’t care to listen to women talk when Terry and his Pirates…straight from the funnies…were adventuring. Personally, I was “Brenda Starr”
I heard Gert thanking Mother and Daddy…he in absentee…for saying she and the boys could come stay at our house because of the housing shortage. Our house is a frame two bedroom, painted white with green trim. The war started just as we moved in. We did have the highest see – saw in the world.
I went to get a drink in the kitchen… to use the phone to call Pat and tell her the forbidden secret…that Gertrude was still in love with Uncle Al who was coming to visit us in a few months…he’s a civilian engineer with T B scars on his lungs.
Well she wasn’t even surprised as she had secretly read a letter Al had sent Gertrude. ..yesterday. But she didn’t know my mother and dad were going to let she and her boy move in with us.…at least til Al gets here…or…What if Gert’s Navy husband’s boat sinks?
Pat had taught me how to steam open letters. When we weren’t together …we were spies …trying to figure out what reality is…I have to practice and learn so when…? I do grow up…”I’ll free will… all over every body.
THE END
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
A short story by Diana Weeks
I was supposed to be listening to “Terry and the Pirates” on the radio with Buddy… my black mailer brother… but I was leaning towards the radio to give a “glance over the shoulder” reassurance look…I was listening to my mother and her close friend Gertrude talk…about the war with the Japs and the Not-zees”.
I’m not allowed to ease-drop…but that only makes it more fun…more a game that can be won or lost… Mother did not allow any talk about the war at our dinner table “War… is not… a fit subject… for children. We were always sent from the room… when an adult came into a room I was in… with another adult. I had to walk out or wait 10 seconds and get kicked out.
Mother might slowly say “Children, go play monopoly” to us and in a slight whisper she’d tell her companion…adult conversation is forbidden…for children
No argument about the unfairness…we live here too…Children are children and adults are adults…as adults they are given “free will”…do they give us children any “free will”…No “free will’s not for youth…kids need to be sheltered.. reality needs the wisdom you gain by living any way you want to…but not kids…they don’t know anything.
Me and my best friend Patricia. Pat is the niece of my mom’s best friend, Gertrude, whose two boys aged ten and six were on the floor close to the radio exiled like us…But they didn’t care to listen to women talk when Terry and his Pirates…straight from the funnies…were adventuring. Personally, I was “Brenda Starr”
I heard Gert thanking Mother and Daddy…he in absentee…for saying she and the boys could come stay at our house because of the housing shortage. Our house is a frame two bedroom, painted white with green trim. The war started just as we moved in. We did have the highest see – saw in the world.
I went to get a drink in the kitchen… to use the phone to call Pat and tell her the forbidden secret…that Gertrude was still in love with Uncle Al who was coming to visit us in a few months…he’s a civilian engineer with T B scars on his lungs.
Well she wasn’t even surprised as she had secretly read a letter Al had sent Gertrude. ..yesterday. But she didn’t know my mother and dad were going to let she and her boy move in with us.…at least til Al gets here…or…What if Gert’s Navy husband’s boat sinks?
Pat had taught me how to steam open letters. When we weren’t together …we were spies …trying to figure out what reality is…I have to practice and learn so when…? I do grow up…”I’ll free will… all over every body.
THE END
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
The Phoney Bride
The Phoney Bride
a short story by Diana Weeks
I met Marian at a rich friend's pool party . Her stunning presence and innocent girlish laugh, made me wish I was straight.
My older favorite aunt wanted so much for me to marry before she died. She knew I had always lived with male room mates. But in her heart she didn't want to “in able a sinner”..she believed the right Woman could “turn me”.
Auntie Addie had a million dollars worth of texas panhandle oil land..her estate was worth..giving careful thought... To her feelings. She did pay for my university education.
I teach for a community college and make a so-so-living and get a bit of respect.....My last companion died of aids after 12 years together. If auntie did... Leave me her money... I could move to the penthouse at the Edison lofts, hire a house keeper and travel.
I'm thinking... What could be so difficult about landing a woman..I love to fish.... Just to put... Aunt Addie's mind at peace.
Aunt Addie was determined to insist I find the right woman... Because she just couldn't force herself to have her heir... A queer.. She was convinced the “right woman” could show me the joys of the right kind of love.
Not that this was ever discussed.....Certainly not.
I crossed the room to meet this lovely lady but she had on a wedding band. I introduced myself. She said she liked my name... Marvin.
“You are a good liar” I told her and she grinned. ”I was hoping you were single I whispered. “ I was going to ask you to dinner”.
“Where were you going to take me” she asked?.
“Where ever you want to go” thinking I had plenty of plastic in my pocket”?
She slipped the ring off her finger and dropped it in my hand. “I'm an actress...I'm just pretending I'm married... I'm auditioning for Maggie in “Tin Roof”. Next week.
I took her hand and put the ring back on her third finger.“I've got a gig for you”. She frowned. “It doesn't involve a donkey does it. ” I bust out laughing...We're just going to make an old lady happy...You'll play my new shy bride...For one fancy dinner in Abilene. She bubbled giggles..and assured me “ I'm good at blushing”
The End
All Rights Reserved
a short story by Diana Weeks
I met Marian at a rich friend's pool party . Her stunning presence and innocent girlish laugh, made me wish I was straight.
My older favorite aunt wanted so much for me to marry before she died. She knew I had always lived with male room mates. But in her heart she didn't want to “in able a sinner”..she believed the right Woman could “turn me”.
Auntie Addie had a million dollars worth of texas panhandle oil land..her estate was worth..giving careful thought... To her feelings. She did pay for my university education.
I teach for a community college and make a so-so-living and get a bit of respect.....My last companion died of aids after 12 years together. If auntie did... Leave me her money... I could move to the penthouse at the Edison lofts, hire a house keeper and travel.
I'm thinking... What could be so difficult about landing a woman..I love to fish.... Just to put... Aunt Addie's mind at peace.
Aunt Addie was determined to insist I find the right woman... Because she just couldn't force herself to have her heir... A queer.. She was convinced the “right woman” could show me the joys of the right kind of love.
Not that this was ever discussed.....Certainly not.
I crossed the room to meet this lovely lady but she had on a wedding band. I introduced myself. She said she liked my name... Marvin.
“You are a good liar” I told her and she grinned. ”I was hoping you were single I whispered. “ I was going to ask you to dinner”.
“Where were you going to take me” she asked?.
“Where ever you want to go” thinking I had plenty of plastic in my pocket”?
She slipped the ring off her finger and dropped it in my hand. “I'm an actress...I'm just pretending I'm married... I'm auditioning for Maggie in “Tin Roof”. Next week.
I took her hand and put the ring back on her third finger.“I've got a gig for you”. She frowned. “It doesn't involve a donkey does it. ” I bust out laughing...We're just going to make an old lady happy...You'll play my new shy bride...For one fancy dinner in Abilene. She bubbled giggles..and assured me “ I'm good at blushing”
The End
All Rights Reserved
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Resourcefulness
Resourcefulness
A short story by Diana Weeks
Laury had looked forward to summer every day of the fifth grade. She absolutely hated to get up early. The only day her mother let her sleep late was Saturday. They both slept in that one-day of the week. Sunday's they had to get up to visit sick relatives or help some friend move. It was good deed day.
This was the first summer her widowed Mom had agreed to let her stay home alone. Laury promised to clean the house and have supper ready when her Mom got home from work, just like the housekeeper they had last year, before the insurance money ran out.
"Wow, she thought and hugged herself. "After Mom goes to work I can read". Laury could read all night if her mom didn't wake up and lecture about your body needing sleep...and turn the light out…it's getting in her eyes.
Big brother, Sam, had given her a powerful flashlight, for her ninth birthday, for just such occasions. Oh, Sam could make her laugh. And cry, when he would tell her a bedtime story wrong. "Cinderella's mean step-sister sees the Prince coming and gets a jar of Vaseline and spreads it all over her foot, and gets her foot in the glass slipper and the Prince has to marry her".
Laury would cry and sob. "Tell it right. Dad, make Sam tell it right". Her daddy would laugh, and come in and put his arm around her and say "You're too good for any man, even a Prince. And mean bad things happen". That turned out to be too true.
Reading was the only thing that captured Laury's mind enough to block out the couldn't hide hurt. Her daddy and older brother had been killed when she was nine, their car hit head-on by a drunk driver.
The second day of the new "summer deal", their electricity was turned off. It had been on last night, after they had eaten dinner, her mother bragged on how cool and neat Laury had made the house, the table set with fresh flowers, savory pinto beans, cornbread and canalope.
"You made me feel so welcome." Her mom smiled and smiled and kissed both her cheeks three times.
"Daddy always said he loved to come home, because he felt so welcome, we all went to the door to hug him". Tears tracked both their cheeks, but they didn't go into boo-hoos like they did for weeks, after the accident. "I am so pleased, if you keep this up, I won't wake you up to tell you what to do, before I leave in the mornings. I'll let you sleep. How 'bout that?" Then they both bawled and hugged. "You are so good. You don't worry me" her mother told her and hugged Laury again for a long time.
Laury felt like she was in heaven and didn't even have to die. She didn't wake up until ten the next morning and read the last two chapters of Rebecca Wells' "Little Alters Everywhere", before she got out of bed. She was surrounded by the "Princess' pillows" her daddy had given her for Christmas in 2001.
Her parents did not let 9/11 spoil their Christmas. She had a million funny family memories. Her parents could make everyday a party.
She splashed cold water in her face and put her matt down and did her exercise routine. Mostly stretching. Before the unthinkable, and her mom had to get a job as a doctor's receptionist, they did it together every morning. Now her mom gets up at five to do her yoga, but she didn't wake Laury until she was ready for work.
The sluggish youngster didn't know the power was off until she started to cook bacon for her favorite breakfast, a BLT, waiting for the pan to warm, she opened the fridge to get a tomato, and the light didn't go on. She held her hand above the heating coils on the stove and felt nothing. Still in her nightgown she went around the house clicking the light switches.
Yes, the power was off in their all electric home. That meant she couldn't turn on the air-conditioner at four to cool the house down. Had her mother forgotten to pay the bill?
Laury knew things were tight, the television had gone out and not been replaced, and her mother liked to watch the news. Plus her grandmother had put in a garden on her spring visit, and taught Laury how to weed and water the vegetables.
How could she have supper ready? Laury knew better than to call her mother at work. If they were behind on bills, she sure couldn't ask her to bring home fast food.
Laury got their big foam ice chest from the garage and filled it with everything out of the fridge, having a baloney sandwich for breakfast.
She hurried and made the beds and picked up dropped clothes and the scattered free weekly newspaper, and sat the table for supper, while she tried to think of a solution.
First, she would walk the six blocks to the neighborhood library, the only place she was allowed to go alone. Her books were due and she had read all five, including "Simple Recipes". She dressed in her red shorts and tie-dyed yellow tee shirt. "I'm going to look bright, anyway" she told herself.
Slowly Laury paced the aisles between the tall brown wooden bookshelves, distracted by her problem. She had to keep her end of the bargain. Her mother had bragged so on last night's supper.
Her grown-up friend, the librarian Mrs. Simmons, was putting up a display on solar energy. "What's the matter Laury, have you already read all our books"? she teased.
"No, but I want to", Laury assured her, stopping to look at the arrangement of new books. Her heart thumped and jumped like a frog, right there like magic, "Cooking with the Sun". She leafed through it and quickly found directions with a drawing of a simple solar cooker. All she needed was cardboard, aluminum foil, a clear plastic bag and a black pot. They had a navy blue roaster, that should be close enough. "What a great idea" Laury thought.
She rewarded herself with a thick adult book, "The Red Tent", and hurried out. Stopping behind the new dollar store, she picked up a large cardboard box. At home she cut out pieces and covered one side with foil, propping them inside her plastic baby bathtub from the attic, creating a big bowl shaped sun cooker.
In the garden she quickly gathered a small head of cabbage, onions, carrots, sweet yellow peppers, butter lettuce and two red ripe tomatoes for a salad.
Laury retrieved two lamb chops from the freezer, They were the last of the spring lamb, saved for a special occasion but she didn't want to risk letting them spoil. Her daddy's parents raised lambs, and gave them a slaughtered frozen lamb every Easter, so good and easy to cook. It was always eaten fast.
The girl carefully cut the vegetables in small pieces. She buttered the inside of the roaster artfully arranging the food, and put the covered pan inside a large plastic bag. She placed it in the center of her solar stove, and carried it to the sunniest spot in the yard.
Relieved that the book said you couldn't burn food in a solar cooker, Laurie sat in their shady porch swing and luxuriously read, intimate details about the women in the Bible…all afternoon. She had closed all the blinds and curtains and opened the front and back doors to suck a breeze through the house.
Laury's sun cooked supper was a huge success. "You are resourceful and that's a great blessing" her Mom told her that night, giving her a hewmungus hug. "Paydays tomorrow and I can get the bill paid".
That night, her mother did not wake up and say one time, "Turn off the light and go to sleep".
THE END
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
A short story by Diana Weeks
Laury had looked forward to summer every day of the fifth grade. She absolutely hated to get up early. The only day her mother let her sleep late was Saturday. They both slept in that one-day of the week. Sunday's they had to get up to visit sick relatives or help some friend move. It was good deed day.
This was the first summer her widowed Mom had agreed to let her stay home alone. Laury promised to clean the house and have supper ready when her Mom got home from work, just like the housekeeper they had last year, before the insurance money ran out.
"Wow, she thought and hugged herself. "After Mom goes to work I can read". Laury could read all night if her mom didn't wake up and lecture about your body needing sleep...and turn the light out…it's getting in her eyes.
Big brother, Sam, had given her a powerful flashlight, for her ninth birthday, for just such occasions. Oh, Sam could make her laugh. And cry, when he would tell her a bedtime story wrong. "Cinderella's mean step-sister sees the Prince coming and gets a jar of Vaseline and spreads it all over her foot, and gets her foot in the glass slipper and the Prince has to marry her".
Laury would cry and sob. "Tell it right. Dad, make Sam tell it right". Her daddy would laugh, and come in and put his arm around her and say "You're too good for any man, even a Prince. And mean bad things happen". That turned out to be too true.
Reading was the only thing that captured Laury's mind enough to block out the couldn't hide hurt. Her daddy and older brother had been killed when she was nine, their car hit head-on by a drunk driver.
The second day of the new "summer deal", their electricity was turned off. It had been on last night, after they had eaten dinner, her mother bragged on how cool and neat Laury had made the house, the table set with fresh flowers, savory pinto beans, cornbread and canalope.
"You made me feel so welcome." Her mom smiled and smiled and kissed both her cheeks three times.
"Daddy always said he loved to come home, because he felt so welcome, we all went to the door to hug him". Tears tracked both their cheeks, but they didn't go into boo-hoos like they did for weeks, after the accident. "I am so pleased, if you keep this up, I won't wake you up to tell you what to do, before I leave in the mornings. I'll let you sleep. How 'bout that?" Then they both bawled and hugged. "You are so good. You don't worry me" her mother told her and hugged Laury again for a long time.
Laury felt like she was in heaven and didn't even have to die. She didn't wake up until ten the next morning and read the last two chapters of Rebecca Wells' "Little Alters Everywhere", before she got out of bed. She was surrounded by the "Princess' pillows" her daddy had given her for Christmas in 2001.
Her parents did not let 9/11 spoil their Christmas. She had a million funny family memories. Her parents could make everyday a party.
She splashed cold water in her face and put her matt down and did her exercise routine. Mostly stretching. Before the unthinkable, and her mom had to get a job as a doctor's receptionist, they did it together every morning. Now her mom gets up at five to do her yoga, but she didn't wake Laury until she was ready for work.
The sluggish youngster didn't know the power was off until she started to cook bacon for her favorite breakfast, a BLT, waiting for the pan to warm, she opened the fridge to get a tomato, and the light didn't go on. She held her hand above the heating coils on the stove and felt nothing. Still in her nightgown she went around the house clicking the light switches.
Yes, the power was off in their all electric home. That meant she couldn't turn on the air-conditioner at four to cool the house down. Had her mother forgotten to pay the bill?
Laury knew things were tight, the television had gone out and not been replaced, and her mother liked to watch the news. Plus her grandmother had put in a garden on her spring visit, and taught Laury how to weed and water the vegetables.
How could she have supper ready? Laury knew better than to call her mother at work. If they were behind on bills, she sure couldn't ask her to bring home fast food.
Laury got their big foam ice chest from the garage and filled it with everything out of the fridge, having a baloney sandwich for breakfast.
She hurried and made the beds and picked up dropped clothes and the scattered free weekly newspaper, and sat the table for supper, while she tried to think of a solution.
First, she would walk the six blocks to the neighborhood library, the only place she was allowed to go alone. Her books were due and she had read all five, including "Simple Recipes". She dressed in her red shorts and tie-dyed yellow tee shirt. "I'm going to look bright, anyway" she told herself.
Slowly Laury paced the aisles between the tall brown wooden bookshelves, distracted by her problem. She had to keep her end of the bargain. Her mother had bragged so on last night's supper.
Her grown-up friend, the librarian Mrs. Simmons, was putting up a display on solar energy. "What's the matter Laury, have you already read all our books"? she teased.
"No, but I want to", Laury assured her, stopping to look at the arrangement of new books. Her heart thumped and jumped like a frog, right there like magic, "Cooking with the Sun". She leafed through it and quickly found directions with a drawing of a simple solar cooker. All she needed was cardboard, aluminum foil, a clear plastic bag and a black pot. They had a navy blue roaster, that should be close enough. "What a great idea" Laury thought.
She rewarded herself with a thick adult book, "The Red Tent", and hurried out. Stopping behind the new dollar store, she picked up a large cardboard box. At home she cut out pieces and covered one side with foil, propping them inside her plastic baby bathtub from the attic, creating a big bowl shaped sun cooker.
In the garden she quickly gathered a small head of cabbage, onions, carrots, sweet yellow peppers, butter lettuce and two red ripe tomatoes for a salad.
Laury retrieved two lamb chops from the freezer, They were the last of the spring lamb, saved for a special occasion but she didn't want to risk letting them spoil. Her daddy's parents raised lambs, and gave them a slaughtered frozen lamb every Easter, so good and easy to cook. It was always eaten fast.
The girl carefully cut the vegetables in small pieces. She buttered the inside of the roaster artfully arranging the food, and put the covered pan inside a large plastic bag. She placed it in the center of her solar stove, and carried it to the sunniest spot in the yard.
Relieved that the book said you couldn't burn food in a solar cooker, Laurie sat in their shady porch swing and luxuriously read, intimate details about the women in the Bible…all afternoon. She had closed all the blinds and curtains and opened the front and back doors to suck a breeze through the house.
Laury's sun cooked supper was a huge success. "You are resourceful and that's a great blessing" her Mom told her that night, giving her a hewmungus hug. "Paydays tomorrow and I can get the bill paid".
That night, her mother did not wake up and say one time, "Turn off the light and go to sleep".
THE END
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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