Sunday, May 29, 2016

Indy Day. Coke 600 Day.

From the looks of it, Indy has a chance of running the full race; the 600 not so much. A tropical storm and the system in Texas seem poised to rain them out. But I  will be watching.

Speaking of the rains; the past two weeks claimed one small boy in Kansas. It has been days now and they are still searching. Probably this will be the last day for a formal effort and chance will have to intervene.

Kids and creeks are one thing; kids and flooded creeks are attracted.

The first weekend of summer has seen an increase in the kid activities in the village. Bicycles are dusted (and rusted), four wheelers are trotted out, regardless of law enforcement efforts to impress on the kids it is illegal to ride them without a license and on the public roads the way most are equipped.

The weather has cleared for a bit and the adults are out in force on the motorcycle’s. I was sitting on the back porch last evening and heard a motorcycle way out in the distance. Way out.

I could hear the bike stroking along for sometime, then it geared down, geared down again and coasted awhile; it then geared up, and up again and hummed along for a bit, then geared down, getting louder and louder, geared down again, then its lights appeared over the hill west, the turn signal telling me it was turning into the village, which it did.

Tracing in my mind the various gearings and accelerations I figured that I first heard the bike three miles west, one and a half north of the village on the main highway.

It can be very peaceful and quiet in my 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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