Saturday Centus, Night Travel

This is Saturday Centus . The prompt must be used word for word somewhere in the story on not more than 100 words.The prompt is highlighted. For complete rules see:http://jennymatlock.blogspot.com. I have highlighted this week's prompt in piece below.







Night Travel
When they had left North Platte heading west at sunset, they drove into darkening skies. As they made miles across rolling prairies, dusk fell. Janice shoved in a Nakai CD, the notes springing out of his cedar flute like field grasshoppers in wheat stubble. When they turned north towards the reservation, distant jagged lightning ripped across the sky like a broken zipper, splitting the darkness momentarily. She wondered if she should be afraid, if First People spirits were watching them.


Sam reached over for her hand, caressed her palm. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”


She smiled. It was going to be a beautiful dark and stormy night.

Sites in Ohio and Kentucky

While Mason was playing at daycare, we chose to visit a few things close by. Only eight miles away from the church daycare was the Freedom Museum dedicated to educating about the Underground Railroad. We crossed the Ohio, found a parking place which was not easy as downtown Cincinnati was in heavy construction mode. Once there we found out the museum did not open until 11:00. So we walked up to sit for a while in a fountain area amid skyscrapers. It would have been fun to see the whole city I guess, but downtown cities are losing appeal for me. We did stop at a Greek café on the way back down and had a BLT on pita bread which was delicious! We took ours out to the tables on the sidewalk and ate outside. Fun!

Then we went back to the Underground Railroad museum. It was interesting but rather lightweight in information we both thought. It was huge building of five floors and only one floor was complete with exhibits. Too much wasted space and space given to administrative offices. What was there was gorgeous and state of the art in how it was displayed. I was disappointed there was nothing on the quilts used to signal Underground Railroad paths and safe houses. There was a wagon with a false bottom that was interesting to see. Maybe I had read too much because nothing outstanding in the way of new information for me. The gift shop was huge and packed with great educational materials however.

Just outside was the Roebling Suspension Bridge that crossed the Ohio River. It was closed to traffic while it is being repainted the original blue it was painted over a hundred years ago. The bridge was started before the Civil War, finished after the Civil War, and was an inspiration for the Brooklyn Bridge. Although closed, we were to learn too late that one foot path was open across the bridge. We would have loved to walk out over the Ohio and back into Kentucky.

On Friday we did up laundry and cleaned house and picked up toys for a fresh start while Mason was at daycare. Then we had lunch before picking him back up. We went to Yesterday’s Café and Tea Room. It was a gorgeous place and quiet. I had Matcha Lemonade made with matcha green tea. Very refreshing and tasty! I chose gazpacho soup and quiche for my lunch and presentation was lovely.

When we picked Mason up, the church parking lot was full of an afternoon farmer’s market. We walked him around looking at the colorful fruits and vegetables. We brought home some Molly Delicious apples which were new to me; they had a nice flavor. Mason ate them well! I also picked up a small box of heirloom tomatoes that were delicious.

When our children returned and we headed home, we were going to linger on the drive. We followed the Ohio River on a winding side road rather than travel the super highway. It was a lovely area despite the industrial sites sitting right next to the river. The plants all looked new, shiney, well-maintained, and were huge. Then we found a great bridge over the Ohio which DH was looking for. We crossed right into a gorgeous old river town. Madison, Indiana was gorgeous wth brick storefronts and smartly painted Victorian homes. There were great shops and antique places, although everything was closed on Sunday. We were discussing staying so we could look the town and shops over in the morning, but a phone call that DH's mother was in the hosptial sent us back on the highway to push for home.

We drove until midnight, crashed, and started on the highway again. We made only one stop on the way home and that was small town Lebanon, Illinois. We had found this town on a business trip to Indiana years ago. It is a couple of blocks of antique stores, a tiny tea room, and shops. At that time there was a British shop I loved for its tea choices. But being a Monday this time almsot evertyting was closed. We grabbed a bite to eat in a cafe we knew, but the food was not great this time. The British store and tea room were gone. Frankly, the economic hard times seemed to have slapped the town a bit. However, there was one antique shop open and we walked around there for a while. It was grand place because it was nothing but tea cups, tea pots, dishes, serving pieces, knife rests, egg coddlers, and all of it was beautiful.

Lebanon's claim to fame is the fact that Charles Dickens slept here. Dickens was on his American tour and wanted to see the prairies. However, while here it rained and he stepped out into mud! He stayed at the Mermaid House that you can tour for free. We had done that on the earlier trip. The rooms are so tiny and stairs so steep it is hard to imagine living in it everyday.

Babysitting in Kentucky!

DH and I traveled across Missouri, Illinois, and Indiana and reached the top tip of Kentucky to babysit our not quite two year old grandson while his folks took a business trip to Puerto Rico. Since she has just learned of a new pregnancy, this will probably the last trip for a while, and it was too good for her to miss. The days were busy and tiring for us and boy were we exhausted at night, but it was worth every aching joint and loss of energy to be with this little guy. Such fun! On Wednesday we kept him all to ourselves, but on Thursday and Friday we took him to his day care for a few hours. It kept him close to his regular schedule and frankly, it gave us a break too. Mason never stopped moving, investigating, hammering, jumping, or eating otherwise. Pardon me while I show a few Grammie pictures!

Who? Me?

Grandpa had made a complete set of wooden toys, but we only took one truck and trailer loaded with blocks because we knew he was a little young yet. But we wanted to give one truck to him personally rather shipping them all later. At first Grandpa was a little disappointed because Mason was interested but not squealing with joy over the truck. After all, most of his hard plastic toys sang songs, screamed letters, flashed lights. By golly, that truck just sat there unless you pushed it! Not long though until Mr. Mason figured out to push and moan like a big rig motor. He even figured out how to connect the small peg for truck and trailer.

On Monday when started the trip, we headed out early and stopped in Rolla to pick up cherry raspberry pie at Slice of Pie. Our friends, Jim and Elaine, had a light lunch ready for us, and we wanted to contribute. Elaine had a yummy chicken and noodle soup, fruit, and grilled cheese sandwiches. We all knew we had little time, but they live in Sunset Hills, only a sneeze away right off the main highway we were taking smack dab through St. Louis. We had been driving four hours and needed a break anyway. We ate, visited, and ran right on which we all hated but knew was necessary. By leaving in less than two hours, driving those St. Louis bridges downtown were a breeze with light traffic. We got as far as Corydon, Indiana before stopping for the night.

This was a different time of year for us to pass the tobacco fields in that area. Wow, were they unusual looking. We got out to feel the plants; they have rather smooth leaves and no smell at all. Some fields were ready for picking, while others had been cleared. Many tobacco barns were loaded with crops hanging out to dry.

 The next morning we were up and got through Louisville fine but lost our turn on the east side of city. It turned out well as we found a secondary road that was just delightful. We passed the Claudia Sanders Restaurant where the Kentucky Fried Chicken chain was born. It would have been fun to eat there. We had plenty of time to meander in little bergs and even stop at a few flea markets. Then we made it in to Independence and Florence, part of the urban sprawl of Covington, Kentucky, where our kids live. We began to get our instructions for one baby boy, two dogs, and two yowling cats. It was like living at Dr. Doolittle’s for a week!!!

In our free time while Mason was in his daycare playtime we made some nice stops in the area that I will save for another post.

Tea Cup Tuesday #23 Tea Pictures

I have been three states away for a week taking care of a two year old grandson. As we headed home, we got call 91 year old mother-in-law is in hosptial 80 miles the other direction from our home. We are exhasted and mentally depleted here, but I wanted to try and get back on some target, to feel like things were returning to some normalcy. I had this post in files, so I will use it today for Teacup Tuesday, as it is tea cup related at least!

Pictures with tea cups and tea pots are numerous in my home as well as the real cups and pots!

This picture was painted for me by a friend. She put ME in the picture by using an apron, a hat, a book, lace, and a cup of tea...all things which I use daily.

  

This living room picture was painted my my mother-in-law.

This is a print that I used many times as a prompt  in my writing classes. It has produced many creatives takes, but I don't remember any relating to the cup of tea sitting on the table! It hangs in my office now.

Another picture in my office.

Two Weak Spots!

Kansas prairie near Beaumont. A picture can not contain the beauty of this land, nor can it show the rich earth that grows plush grasses loaded with nutrients to feed cattle nautrally.






I admit that I am having a 1950’s cowboy relapse. I loved westerns, all of them. I waited for Wagon Train, never missed Bonanza, had a love affair with Michael Anasara who played Cochise. Every Saturday night even when visiting our grandparents, the whole family stopped everything and watched Gunsmoke, admiring Marshall Dillon, loving Miss Kitty, and snickering at Chester’s antics. And who can forget Sal Mineo in Comanche? I have the Walt Disney video and have seen the horse “in the flesh” many times at the museum on the campus of University of Kansas.

After reading the Dusty Richards book and thumbing through some borrowed Baxter Black poetry, I still did not have enough. So this weekend I pulled out to read more in Flint Hills Cowboys: Tales of the Tallgrass Prairie by Jim Hoy. Hoy is an English professor at Emporia State University and written several books on cowboy history. This book details snippets of history about fences, rodeos, cattle, and outlaws even, in the Flint Hills. It is not a book that would interest most women, but I do love this period of time, the late 1800s and early 1900’s of Kansas. I am not getting much writing done, but maybe I am planting some seed for future cowboy poetry!

I doubt if I get much writing done for the rest of the month because DH and I will travel to Kentucky to babysit our not yet two year old grandson (even though he looks like he is four!). It is a long drive and we fear so many days with a tot full of energy. But maybe we will be miraculously energized to keep up with this guy. Too far away to do much bonding before, maybe now we all will get to know each other well while his parents take a long business trip. Always said we would never talk about our children or grandchildren to others, but I fear there will be many tales to tell after this trip. Get ready, Mason, here comes Grandma!

Saturday Centus #16, My Summer Vacation

WEEK 16 ASSIGNMENT


Do you remember how during the first week back at school the teacher would make you write an essay about what you did over your summer vacation? Your story must be written in first person AND must be exactly 100 words long. It can be fact or fiction.

For complete details:http://jennymatlock.blogspot.com/2010/08/saturday-centus-week-16.html




My Summer Vacation, 1964

Freshman summer was not much different for best friend Dory and me. Waking in humid Kansas air, we helped our moms freeze strawberries, can tomatoes, or make jam before tanning on blankets or straddling bikes. We bowled bikes down gravel roads, munched chocolate in the cemetery, pulled romantic novels from cool library shelves and stopped at the Rexall for nickel cokes. There we lowered kick stands, tugged our madras shorts out of cracks, smoothed pony tails, and sauntered through the smacking screen door, catching sight of sweaty guys in plaid shirts, sleeves ripped out revealing hay bale-built biceps…um, good summer!

Remembering Cowboys

Born near the ranch of Will Roger’s parents and in a time before Oklahoma was a state, my Grandpa was a wanna be cowboy. He stood like John Wayne, and the two men in their youths did resemble each other in looks. He saw to it that I had fringed vests, double holsters with toy six shooters, cow girl hats, and he wanted me to be rodeo princess and lead the parade someday. (I never did.)He and my Gran belonged to a Saddle Club, wore matching shirts, had matching saddle blankets with brown and sage pom poms, road in parades and lived in the home town of the 100 year old Inter-State Rodeo (Coffeyville, Kansas).



One of my mother’s biggest arguments with her dad was when I was in eighth grade. Grandpa wanted to buy me a pair of $100 cowboy boots for my birthday when I needed so many other things plus she wanted me to put the cowboy stuff aside. My heart still aches for those boots, and my body now aches for the good legs to wear them!


It was hard not to adore boots and hats and the squeak of a good leather saddle when the favorite TV shows then were The Virginian, Bonanza, and Wagon Train. Why, even one of the most popular after-shaves, called English Leather, smelled rugged and earthy like a pair of well used leather work gloves. Every night I went to bed dreaming of straddling a broad-backed horse and racing across the plains. In my dreams, the horse never hit a prairie dog hole, came upon a rattler, or even threw me on my behind.

When I learned western writer Dusty Richards had a new book out called Writing the West, I wondered why I never wanted to write a western, although I had read a few. Did I need another book on writing? No, but something about this book appealed to me. I ordered it, and I haven’t been sorry. It is both an entertaining and informative read whether you are wanting to write a western or not.


Richards’s tone is casual and easy, but he knows his stuff. He has published 65 or so books in 20 years and won the Golden Spur award, an award for western fiction that ranks up there with the Oscars for actors. While his writing tips are aimed at western writing, any writer will benefit from the lessons Richards teaches in this book. He tackles dialogue, writing scenes, plot, internalization, sense of place and other nuts and bolts of writing. Richards gives very specific examples that are easy to follow; he shows samples of poor writing and then turns around to show exactly how it can be improved. Strewn among the facts and lessons are tiny tidbits like when the tumbleweed came to Kansas, ethic background of the cowboys of the West, the demise of the redheaded green parrot, and why trees of the plains lean a certain direction.


Richards doesn’t leave the reader with only his own words for reference either. The second part of the book calls in experts like Jory Sherman, Jodi Thomas and others to toss out pointers for writing the romantic western, young adult western, and stories about the mountain men who broke open the West. By the time I had finished reading Writing the West, I began to think maybe I had better return to my yesteryears, gather up some tack, shoulder a saddle, don a pair of Wranglers or Levis and head out to the plains…figuratively speaking, of course! Is that Tumbling Tumbleweed I hear on my Sons of the Pioneers CD right now?


Readers can find this great book at amazon.com or order it from the publisher High Hill Press at www.highhillpress.com. I guarantee that neither readers nor writers will be disappointed in this impressive book by a skillful storyteller.






Another Dusty


A few years ago we visited the Roy Rogers and Dale Evans Museum in Branson. DH thought it sounded hokey. While I never ask to do much in Branson, I really wanted to see this! It was worth every dime. Seeing those pictures and memorabilia, the jeep Nelly Belle, Dale’s favorite skirts all spiced up with ric rac, and things like Roy Rogers lunch boxes from my childhood was a trip down memory lane for sure. Then after seeing the museum, we went into a small theater to hear Dusty, Roy and Dale’s son, sing old favorite western songs. I cried when I heard Cool Water and Back in the Saddle Again.


I just recently learned this museum is no longer open, although I don’t know why. However Dusty Rogers and his son Dustin Roy Rogers have a new show in another theater in Branson. I hope they still sing Happy Trails—and I bet they do!