Like Bogey and Bacall If i were ever to be young again, i’d cash out my savings, and start up a yogurt company. With all due respect, i’d call it Humphrey Yogurt, with flavors like African Queen— hot romance and lemon, Casablanca— smoky piano and vanilla, and Key Largo— grave danger and chilled chardonnay. silly boy that i be. . . . j from the Wonderments and Such collection
Gone Missing She had pressed the autumn leaf between pages 578 and 579 of her college dictionary, a reminder she had visited there to better understand the word nuance. Years later a Seattle detective, hunting for subtle clues as to her whereabouts, shook out the book and watched the leaf flutter to the floor. "Let's go," he muttered. "Nothing here. Musta run off somewheres.” . . . j from the Wonderments and Such collection
Tying The Knot Tying the Knot Wedding planners should never use a Granny Knot to tie a marriage up. As all sailors know, the Granny will slip when pressure on the load is brought to bear. Tis better to use a proper knot— the reliable Square— so, when troubles come along, as they surely will, the vows “I do.” “I do too.” remain strong and true— no matter the intensity of the wind. . . . j from the Wonderments and Such collection
Red Hummingbirds and men are haunted by an irresistible attraction to the color Red, but Women have an uncanny, almost instinctive, ability to sort out the two. . . . j from the Wonderments and Such collection
Preparations She who washes clothes a Saturday and hangs them out to dry, carries the sweetness of a flower's scent into a Sunday pew, muting the faint odor of her pungent man and Grandmother’s musty Bible. . . . j from the Wonderments and Such collection
A Royal Flush Even when hidden, a pheasant is never a peasant; rather, in color and plumage, he is always a royal, regal and ready to fly his throne when betrayed, and the whirr of his flight will both startle and delight. . . . j from the Wonderments and Such collection
Message From Afar Snail mail, though cumbersome as a furled scroll sticking out the mailbox, and more stale than last week’s loaf, is still a welcome knock the door from a dear friend. . . . j from the Wonderments and Such collection
Watercraft A wallowing heavy laden steamer is not a slender canoe, nor is it a lonely kayak, nor a sturdy skiff, nor an unsinkable Boston Whaler, nor a sails billowing schooner, but all slide through dark water, leaving naught but a r i p p l e,,,,,,,….. then gone. . . . j from the Wonderments and Such collection
Ancient Prayer Of Trees Dear Lord, Most High Creator of roots trunks bark branches leaves and fruit, grant me but an inch of loyal dirt, black and rich with nutrients, a drop of cooling water, and the gentle warmth of morning sun. I’ll share my shade with all who linger, and cope (as best I can) with rope swings, heart carvings, (Phil Loves Katie) hardheaded woodpeckers, and rickety tree houses. One more thing: please, please, oh please forgive me for bearing silent witness to lynchings. Amen . . . j from the Wonderments and Such collection
Sustenance Tis not so much the mac and cheese, but rather, the imperturbable patience of waiting for the troubling of the water— the softening of the noodles, crunchy underfoot— the precise measurements, of milk and butter, and the sipping from the slender stemmed glass of soothing chardonnay. . . . j from the Wonderments and Such collection
