Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness around the world.

October 28, 2007

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Today’s Stories

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Memories of L

Peggy Ann Doak

One time not long ago, I wrote a piece about the family who took me in when my mother kicked me out. I had packed up my horse and had headed to their house, among others, but theirs was my main stay. The father was the one who became angry with me for skipping school and getting into an accident. I realized during the course of the shakedown, that he was afraid for me and that this family loved me.  

My best friend who I will simply call J, was born in a log cabin. A real one. We are close to the same age. When I would go by that log cabin, after they were living somewhere else, I was always astounded. It was an old one room cabin. No electicity, wood for heat and cooking. There were already four children before my friend J. When I got to know the family, both J and I were preschoolers. They had moved into the neighborhood where I lived. My brother took me over there to visit. I don't know why. I guess he could be nice on occasion. J's older sister, S, was in my brother's class in school. Maybe that was the connection.

They lived in an abandoned house and then moved to an abandoned store. Neither place had a bathroom. L wasn't around. That was the Dad. He had abandoned his family for several years before coming back for good. I loved going over to my friend’s house. They got Dark Shadows on their TV. I smoked my first and last Cigar that J and I had found in the glove box of a 1940 something Toyota. HHHaa. Had ya goin'. No toyotas for a long time to come. This car was either a ford, or chevy. Anyway, it was parked outside of the store that they lived in for some time. The cigar was a big old stogey. I got soooo sick. I cannot stand the smell of cigar smoke to this day. Afraid of being caught by J's older brother, and it being night time, I learned from J how to recognise cars by their headlights. My first lesson was duel vs. single headlights. I can't remember what her brother had, one or the other. But J always impressed me with her keen knowledge.

After L came back home, and the family had moved to another abandoned house next to the old one, they got horses; ponies first, and then big horses later. L would go through the old blacksmith shop next to the old store they had lived in for awhile, and build sulkies (two wheeled carts that racing horses use as well as trainers) out of bicycle parts. And he taught us how to train the ponies to pull us around.

L had a problem. He was an alcoholic; a binger. They are the hardest to treat, because the desire to drink is not always present, so often they are caught off guard when the compulsion hits, and it would take a week or two to drink through it. J had a riding horse, a black and white horse; really pretty. If the horse was gone when J got home from school, we all knew that L was out on a binge. He had lost his license to drive a car for several life times. When I hear people say that horses take advantage of people I want to bean them on the head. This horse was a perfect example.

One day me and J, were over to our friend's D's house. This house sat between mine and J's. I heard somebody say "Look here he comes" and sure enough, up the road came horse and L. There was a western saddle on the horse where a half empty six pack of beer hung. L was passed out. He would weave left and the horse would catch him by stepping left. He wove right and the horse stepped right. She also brought him home without direction, at a very slow walk so he wouldn't fall off. It looked like the horse was drunk, the way she would stepp back and forth, keeping L in the saddle. Once they were in the driveway of home, the horse would simply stand there and wait for L to either wake up and dismount or fall off. Sometime J would find her horse outside waiting for her to take the tack off and put her back out into the pasture, as L had found his way into the house and off to a spinning bed. We all got to laughing as we watched L sway home as the mare swung to and fro.

One day my aunt from Arizona was up visiting and she had taken all of us neighborhood girls swimming to a place about fifteen or so miles away. Coming back I heard my aunt say, in her south western twang, "Well, there.”   Sure enough, L was riding, drinking and swaying to the music in his head, a long way from home. J was with us and even her older sister. We all got a good laugh. It did not occur to us that this was a sorry sight.

L stopped drinking the night he spent his Veterans' pay for the month, on a big pulling horse. Didn't know the horse was even there til the next morning, and I am sure his wife, W, had a good sized frying pan ready for him when he woke up. That was almost thirty years ago. He hasn't drank since.

Peggy Ann Doak

pdoak333@peoplepc.com

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Poetry Corner

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Autumn's Adornment

Cynthia Groopman
cynthia.groopman@verizon.net

Rainbow colors of magnificence,
Adorn the once green leaves.
As the playful breeze teases them,
As they sprightly dance in the trees.
Adorned with exquisite glory,
Enfolds a tapestry of the autumn story.
The greatest artist of all,
Sits upon His Heavenly throne, high above,
As He paints leaves with enchanting colors with eternal love.
Cynthia Groopman

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Once Again
Mary Dees

Here we are, you and I,
Giving our love another try.
Not holding in doubt or smothering pain,
Dancing free in the falling rain.
Learning that time has kept us safe,
Quiet though, in a hidden place.
Waiting for that moment, where forgiveness lyes,
Embracing forever and never goodbye.
Come with me now and don't look back,
 We'll cut the weeds that may tangle our path.
Fear won't choke the warmth from our sun,
Our hopes are reformed, and we are one.
United we will last, for there is no end that I can see,
My love for you Charlie, has been the beginning of me.

Mary M Dees
marlena7694@yahoo.com

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Living With Abandon

Cheryl Williams

Reason and common sense

get really old some days,

and I just want to do something

crazy, dangerous, and fun.

I don't want it to make sense

all the time.

I don't want everything

to fit perfectly together

like a jigsaw puzzle.

Sometimes I just want

to feel my heart pounding

from the unexpected;

Sometimes I just want

to see your mouth fly open

because you can't believe

what I did.

That's just me.

On the outside I may seem

proper and mature and all of that,

but inside I'm an impish little girl

who just wants to live

life to the fullest.

I want to dance on moonbeams

and run through puddles,

splashing muddy water

all over me.

Does it really matter?

I want to walk in the rain

until I'm soaked to the skin,

feel ice cream dripping

all down my chin;

I want to dance in the streets

and scream when I want more;

I want to live with abandon

Isn't this what life is for?

Cheryl Wiliams

politicalgirl@aol.com

Readers Feedback

Re: Joseph Walker's column, "Christmas in October".  What a special few moments that must have been to Collin and his parents...how often are our disabled overlooked?  There should be more people like Coach Cloward out there giving our disabled students a chance.

Your friend,

David Fox

davidirafox@yahoo.com

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