Monday, October 06, 2014

They promised rain today. Hasn’t happened yet, but it seems to be working at it.

Irritating things: The eye doctor I use is plugged into a group of like minded doctors. Somewhere in the nether lands of limbo there is a central office – among the many offices each doctor seems to occupy – and in that central office they have a robo caller of an alto voiced male. The voice is soothing and demands little other than confirmation of -appointments, at least that’s all its asked of me.

I lay down for a nap before lunch today and the robo caller called. The phone rang about the time I drifted into the state of total relaxation, just at the edge of sleep and awake, and the phone rang twice. Then immediately, as if finally securing its grip on technology, thirteen times before I answered to keep the insistent ring from driving me over the edge.

Why the robo caller is an alto voiced thing is self evident. Someone has already castrated the son.

Enough of that. I was, as noted in a prior post, gabbing with a pastor of the local den of chastisement last week and among other things we talked of charity and food banks for the less than nourished.

I thought we were talking about contributions of food stuffs and cautioned of the food banks of the larger cities scarfing up the product from the counties. It turned out the good pastor had other ideas.

He wants a building. And – wait for it – money.

His idea is to establish a food storage and display area, in short, a grocery store. He’ll find the building, advertise the product; He needs the money, he says, to buy the food from the State. He can get, he believes, for one hundred dollars, food enough from the State to equal what I might spend two hundred dollars or more to acquire.

I was a little unclear as to whether he would sell or give away his acquired foodstuff, and was still more confused as to where he intended to find the money.

But he is a man of God, he tells me, and if he works at it

Could it be there’s a capitalistic parsonage in the village?


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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