Monday, February 03, 2014

During the past week or so the news has ridiculed various southern states for lack of action sticking thousands on the Highways in snow and ice. The weathermen and women have warned and pointed out in detail what is, what may be, what seems to be and what the effects of the pointing is pointing out.

I’ve taken it all in and didn’t enjoy the Super Bowl. The storm before the snow, that was.

Still, this morning I rose, checked mail – and found the village clerk has been stealing. That was a mild sadness. Then started my normal round of monthly bill paying.

And the monthly grocery shopping.

And the store in the regional grocers was awash in customers. In all the county, for which the regional grocer has sway, there are only about three thousand people and four hundred of them were in the grocery store.

The place was a mess, orderly, but still a mess.

Why, ask I, are all these people here.

Because, answered the bag boy, manager, the news mentioned snow, and storms and bad weather.

I need, said I, dog food and bread.

Yes, Sir, said he, you now have your desires. Have a good storm and after affects.

I also got three cans of tobacco – who knows how long I’ll be tied up watching snow fall and wishing for more.

My well is only thirty feet deep and it has been rather a dry winter.

_____

From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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