The Prosecutor Was Quite Adamant
*** continued from previous post ***
After a brief rest we returned to the Lodge for this afternoon's High Tea.
We weren't terribly hungry, but a hot cup of coffee for me, and a nice cup of tea for your mom sounded like a grand idea. If certain pastries, meats, cheeses, caviar, and smoked goods happened to fall on our plates by 'accident', well, one has to do what one has to do. Sometimes we have the luxury of choosing our niche, sometimes not. As Red Green, the wise prophet of the north, states so well: "Remember, I'm pulling for you. We're all in this together."
I have no idea what this has to do with me gorging myself on tasty, tasty tidbits, but somehow it seemed there was a connection in my mind. Oh curse you Canada! You have left me befuddled!
We walked into the dining room to a smattering of people sitting in twos and threes at the tables. The gray light of the afternoon pushing through the windows made the room feel heavy and ponderous. Outside the rain was raging in full force. The cloud cover had dropped low into the hills. We could see groups of hikers trudging the meadow trail back to the lodge. They plodded in their plastic ponchos, heads down, leaning their bodies into the weather.
We had barely sat down at a table against the window when Stacy greeted us with coffee and tea.
"Afternoon folks. How you doing today?"
"Stacy," I said, "we are doing wonderfully. How are you?" Catching myself I said "Wait - Suz? We are doing wonderfully, right?"
"We are," your mom said, smiling.
"We are. Yes. Good." With a nod of my head I turned to Stacy. "Sometimes I think we are doing great and I'm wrong. Never hurts to check. So how are you?"
Stacy giggled. Today she wore a denim dress with overall straps to compliment her bright pink pig-tails. The dress hung to just below her knees where it met the top of what appeared to be white tube socks. Her feet were adorned with 'waffle-stompers', so named for the pattern of their tread, or if you can't get your mind around that, then hiking boots if you prefer. There was a beaded hemp necklace dangling from her neck with matching earrings. Her fingers were a mess of rings and stones and doodads. On her this look worked. My God she was so cute I wanted to take her home and love her and feed her and get her shots and get her fixed.
Now that I write that it sounds creepy. Really, I meant take her home like one would do with a kitten or a puppy. Not that I would keep a human as a pet.
Well. . . not again anyway. The prosecutor was quite adamant about that.
Buy The Book At Amazon! $19.95
Kindle Version $ 4.99
Nook $4.99
*** the journey continues ***
After a brief rest we returned to the Lodge for this afternoon's High Tea.
We weren't terribly hungry, but a hot cup of coffee for me, and a nice cup of tea for your mom sounded like a grand idea. If certain pastries, meats, cheeses, caviar, and smoked goods happened to fall on our plates by 'accident', well, one has to do what one has to do. Sometimes we have the luxury of choosing our niche, sometimes not. As Red Green, the wise prophet of the north, states so well: "Remember, I'm pulling for you. We're all in this together."
I have no idea what this has to do with me gorging myself on tasty, tasty tidbits, but somehow it seemed there was a connection in my mind. Oh curse you Canada! You have left me befuddled!
We walked into the dining room to a smattering of people sitting in twos and threes at the tables. The gray light of the afternoon pushing through the windows made the room feel heavy and ponderous. Outside the rain was raging in full force. The cloud cover had dropped low into the hills. We could see groups of hikers trudging the meadow trail back to the lodge. They plodded in their plastic ponchos, heads down, leaning their bodies into the weather.
We had barely sat down at a table against the window when Stacy greeted us with coffee and tea.
"Afternoon folks. How you doing today?"
"Stacy," I said, "we are doing wonderfully. How are you?" Catching myself I said "Wait - Suz? We are doing wonderfully, right?"
"We are," your mom said, smiling.
"We are. Yes. Good." With a nod of my head I turned to Stacy. "Sometimes I think we are doing great and I'm wrong. Never hurts to check. So how are you?"
Stacy giggled. Today she wore a denim dress with overall straps to compliment her bright pink pig-tails. The dress hung to just below her knees where it met the top of what appeared to be white tube socks. Her feet were adorned with 'waffle-stompers', so named for the pattern of their tread, or if you can't get your mind around that, then hiking boots if you prefer. There was a beaded hemp necklace dangling from her neck with matching earrings. Her fingers were a mess of rings and stones and doodads. On her this look worked. My God she was so cute I wanted to take her home and love her and feed her and get her shots and get her fixed.
Now that I write that it sounds creepy. Really, I meant take her home like one would do with a kitten or a puppy. Not that I would keep a human as a pet.
Well. . . not again anyway. The prosecutor was quite adamant about that.
Buy The Book At Amazon! $19.95
Kindle Version $ 4.99
Nook $4.99
*** the journey continues ***
posted by David M at
8:51 AM
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Keep it nice or I release the Zombies.
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