STORYTIME TAPESTRY

April 17, 2005

Now on to the good stuff..........

Animal awareness series endorsed by Shiloh and Hank our mascots; all stories must receive their approval.

The Old Black Hen
by Clara Wersterfer

 
My old black chicken would soon be nine years old. She was the oldest
one we had.
When I opened the chicken house
door one morning, Blackie came limping
out. I noticed her toes were curling under making walking difficult. A
trip to the vet confirmed she had arthritis. Dr. Mathis wasn't sure that
anything would help her, but gave her a cortisone shot and we waited
several days, however, it didn't get any better. By now the poor
thing was making the
upper foot sore by walking on it. When
I started our evening meal, pork chops
were on the menu. I looked at the square styrofoam dish the chops came
on. Eureka! A light came on. After washing
and drying the styrofoam, I got the hen
from the yard. With my husband's help
I straightened her toes and spread them
on the styrofoam, drawing a line around
each toe. Cutting out the little foot prints I uncurled her toes, then
carefully
placed her foot on the shoe I had made and wrapped each toe to the
foam,
using adhesive gauze.
When this chicken was released, she
postively strutted her stuff. She was very happy and it showed.
Naturally Blackie was not able to scratch for
bugs, nor
sit on the roost with toes curled around it. Nevertheless, this chicken
ran around the yard. She wore out a pair of shoes a week, but heck,
styrofoam was
free!
The first really cold spell we had, I brought her to a small, enclosed
back
porch where she could sit comfortably
on the newspaper covered floor. I placed a small space heater there as I
also had some plants on the porch. Checking on her a little later, I
found her laying on her side with feet stretched
toward the space heater. I took pictures as proof. Those poor feet must
have been really cold. She was still lying there when morning came. The
next day I wrapped extra gauze over her feet for "overshoes".
My smart mouthed husband suggested
I make her a little cape as well.
That old black hen lived almost two more years wearing those foam
shoes.
She had a heart attack one day, squawked loudly and just fell over in
the yard as I watched.
She was about eleven years old.
Sometime later, I asked my husband
if he knew how long a chicken usually
lived. His reply "Oh, about six months
on the average."

Clara Westerfer

CBWEST @webtv.net

About me
Born in the mountains of NC, I learned to love story telling at a young
age. For the past 36 years, I have lived in Texas. Three dogs, numerous cats and
other critters share my home.

Today's Queue Stories
~**~**~**~

The Pebble

Bill Walker

wildbill6807 @yahoo.com

I was going along one of the main streets in Lincoln the other day. I have seen this fellow before. Every time he is standing on a street corner waving what looks like a lunch bucket.  Well this time I pulled into a place to get some cheaper gas.  You know this place was a couple cents cheaper than the others I had passed.

Well I kind of watched this fellow.  He would have made a real good traffic cop.  He was waving that bucket, like come on get a move on, move it. I had seen him before and I had it figured out he has a small problem.  But what??™s with this waving the bucket?

Today I found out.  He was waiting for a bus. In his mind he has it, if he can speed up the car traffic; his bus will get there faster.  You know he may be right.

Now I have feelings for a person like that. I have a saying.  "There go I, but by the grace of God." I am not sure that isn't said by others about me. In my mind all are short somewhere in something.

I also think each person is important. I think there is a need for each person. Just like a pebble of sand on a beach.  You see each pebble is just a grain of sand so to speak. But together with many other pebbles make the beach.   We are like that too.

Too many people make with the "ME, MYSELF, and I" stuff. In other words The Big I and the little u.   Stop and think. If it wasn't for the rank and file soldiers, what would a general do?  He can bark orders till the cows come home. Nothing happens till the rank and file soldiers make a move.

The fellow on the corner is a pebble, just like you and I. He is important to the machinery of this life. He has a job doing something somewhere. Someone depends on him showing up somewhere on a job.  He depends on that job.  Some depend on you, you depend on others. 

Just like pebbles on a beach. One by itself is just a grain of sand.   Lots of grains of sand make the beach.  A lot of us together can get something done.  A general by his self does nothing, but barks orders.

Bill Walker

wildbill6807 @yahoo.com

Well I??™m a story teller, not a writer. Never learned the art of fancy English. I

happen to live in Nebraska, but I??™m still Missouri. Never married, all the Dollies I

ever took a second look at was too smart. Now at 74, just turned that other day, I

figure they all home safe. I love Doggies and Dollies in that order. Lost my two

true friends this year, that be Tinker and Poo. So I found me a new one. This

time a little girlie Peke. She is a normal female. Got a mouth, talks all the time.

She will never be a great writers of stories like Tinker and Poo. They have

about 50 stories on HWS. And now writing back from Rainbow Bridge.

I just try to write about people, places and things best I remember. Have something

over 250 stories on HWS. under three names.   

~**~**~

 THE GOOD STUFF

Kathy Whirity

It's a fairly long ride to Illinois State University.  That's where me and the big guy are heading this bright and sunny Sunday morning.  Summer has come to an end for our college bound daughter.

Two days ago, father and daughter drove this well ridden road together on the official move in day.

Today, the Explorer is packed with an entertainment center and a few of the 'must have' odds and ends that were forgotten on that first trip down.

Summer is fading fast into the sunset signaling, for us, another school year of hauling our daughter' worldly posessions to the other end of Illinois and hauling it all back home again.

I'm learning to enjoy these rides, though I can't help but cringe everytime I realize that each year brings our daughter that much closer to adulthood.

The country station is the only channel that still comes through clearly on the radio.  I like to listen to country music once in awhile - every tune tells a tale that ends in some meaningful  thought.

Ironically, there's a song playing called, "The Good Stuff. '   I don't know who sings it but everytime I hear it , the sentiment brings tears to my eyes.

In the song, an old bar keep sets a young man straight on the truly important things in life.  Their paths cross when the young guy walks into the bar after having a fight with his wife.  In pure country style the song is sung  about the old bar keep  who reminices about eating cold burnt suppers the whole first year of married life and asking for seconds to keep his new bride from tearing up.  The song tells the tale of  what a man feels at the sight of his wife holding their baby daughter for the very first time, and the many years later when he has the chance to hold his wife's hand  the day God called her home.

If I were to write a song about 'the good stuff' I would have to include the sight of my then Kindergartener who, with the help of a little school chum, stood at the back door covered in mud from head to toe from the pool they made in the yard. They left the hose run in a section of dirt where a real pool use to be.  With big brown eyes and a smile from ear to ear she apologized and said, " Mommy, I know you're mad, but if you were a kid you'd understand."  

My song of the good stuff would have to include the millions of miles of memories stretched across a lifetime of imperfections and unexpected heartbreak.

There are times, like now, when I feel my child is drifting away from me. She has her own life, her own decisions to make and it leaves me wondering--did I do my best by her?

Will she remember me as a mother who wanted the best for her or will she only remember the times I seemed to be a frazzled mix of rules and nagging?

But, then I'm reminded of some of the good stuff that has blessed my days  -- like the greeting card from my then 5 year old that she picked out all by herself.  It had a bright aqua blue background with a heart of hot pink. When I opened it the inside message simply said--'you make my heart smile.'  It was signed with  X's and O's. Though that card is now tattered and yellowed with age it is my reminder that I must've done something right in the mothering department.

Our daughter still has a lot of growing up to do.  Thankfully there is still so much more she has left to teach me. In our path of parenting we've still got quite a distance to go before we reach our destination; and if we're truly lucky we'll be blessed with the good stuff all the days of our lives.

With country music surrounding us and blue skies leading the way, I glance over at my husband, whose eyes are focused on the road ahead -- and --  I know from where the old bar keep sings.

Kathy Whirity

Kathy Whirity @ yahoo.com

Kathy Whirity is a newspaper columnist

from Chicago where she lives with her

husband Bill of 28 years, her 2 daughters

and her 2 rambunctious Retrievers, Hannah

and Holly.  Kathy's writings can also be

viewed online.  She has been published in

Storytime Tapestry, Hearts with Soul, Warm

Fuzzy Stories, and Write2theHeart,

She has contributed to "The Golden

Formula, The Joy of Alzheimer's, When

Tears Are Dried With Laughter and

"Journey of the Mind.

Kathy welcomes your e-mails.

You may drop her a line at 

Kathywhirity @yahoo.com

~**~**~

Boomers, Butts, and Boredom

Jan Verhoeff

As a member of the dysfunctional swing generation that somehow connects the grossly misrepresented generation of baby boomers with the current crop of generation X, I find myself tainted by the remnants of a closing gap.  Now, that isn??™t to say that I don??™t think there are enough of us to spread around ??“ I think we are all quite capable of holding our own in this 40-something generation of mid-life contenders.  But, I do wonder if we have at some point missed the proverbial boat.

A story recently told on a public forum implicated that children should quite possibly been seen and not heard, and definitely not inflicted on others (an adage I remember quite abhorrently from my days as a child).  It was also implied that the parenting skills of the mother were in serious doubt, since her child was causing chaos unknown in circles of the far more mature.  (I hesitated to mention that this too was an adage abandoned from the days of my youth ??“ that the parents should be held responsible for the actions of the child ??“ oh sweet melody of complaint, there must be some DIRE error in THAT thought.)  All this while
a ???bad??? person who chose to exclaim in anger, a word improper to youthful ears was considered out of line (by folks who regularly watch the evening news, where such words are commonly heard).

As I read the hilarious account of a bathroom light turned out by the child, discussion between mother and child, and subsequent demand that the light be turned back on ??“ I found myself in awe of the constant twitter of the topic.  A public bathroom gone dark would not be my chosen path to ???seeing the light??™
with my child, however, I probably would not find it frightening under the circumstances.  I might even find it humorous, particularly if the phrase ???flapping my hinder parts in the light??? happened to cross my mind ??“ as it did in the discussion on that particular forum.  Of course, it might be just as hilarious as sitting in the booth waving your arms radically in order to hopefully turn on the motion detector lights ??“ or worse explaining to the emt??™s who arrive to fix you up after you fall in the dark ??“ why you were in that booth so long that the motion detector lights went off in the first place.  

If your response is ???I fell asleep on the commode.??? You may be doomed for the morning paper ??“ if not Your Hometown News.

Watch those hinder parts??¦

Jan Verhoeff

Editor, Your Hometown News

Jan Verhoeff

janverhoeff @yahoo.com

More recently, Jan's writing interest leans toward mystery and behavioral humor. Both are included in her latest endeavor due to be released in March 2005 "Out of the Box", a publication about the triumphs and joys of home based education, and the processes she's found that work best with her children and others.

Jan is the Editor/Publisher of Your Hometown News,email to:
your_hometown_news-subscribe@yahoogroups.com NEW ---------- Check out the new website http://windmill29.tripod.com/ Bid til October 31, 2004 on the Golden Lights Original Oil Painting by Southeastern Colorado artist Jan Verhoeff.
janverhoeff @yahoo.com

Writers Feedback

So precious Carol this story of HANDS and the poem of your grandmother I loved it. God bless and keep on with the wonderful sharing as you write with those "special treats from me" and send them on to bless and encourage as well as inspire other. Hugs Leona

In Pursuit of the Perfect Cheese - This story struck home for me LOL I, too, grew up with thinking that Kraft slices were the only cheese...that and Lebanese cheese that my mother made, a semi-soft cheese and very salty. Since I like salt that was one of the cheeses I liked. Then, I started working for Hickory Farms. There, during training, you had to sample all sorts of cheeses and know which wines they were supposed to be served with. Boy was that an experience! I liked most of them although some cheeses have almost no flavor at all. One I know I'll never eat again was Limburger That's one I don't care to ever put in my mouth again finding that the taste is worse than the smell! Thanks for taking me down memory lane!
Love,
Jo

Hi Carol!

This one was real cute! The search for cheese lol
Nicole

Carol,

I enjoyed your story and will share it with my friends!  I too am not a connoisseur of cheese.  I usually get Swiss for sandwiches, like Cheddar, but usually buy Longhorn for grilled cheese sandwiches.  Of course, I like Mozzarella on pizzas.

Best wishes,

Jackie

Read your article about cheese. LMAO!
So funny.  Reminded me of how hard it was
for me to learn to eat it.  I  was probably 25
before I acquired a taste for some cheeses.
My mom and dad both loved oysters.  I would not eat them because I didn't know
which end was the head and which was the
butt.  I  told Mother I  would not eat the
rear end of anything.  I got over that when
I found out ham came from a pigs ass.
HaHaHa
Clara

Carol,

That was a fun story. Being Italian I like the uncut sauce better

with heavy garlic and basil thrown in too. I also love the strongest

type of Prevolone cheese imaginable. Wishing you every joy,

Joe Mazzella

Lessons From My Hands ??“ Carol Roach, This was so special and beautiful. Ty for it

Nathalie Symonds

Wow, Carol!!!

Most beautiful and impactful.(Lessons From My Hands)

Love,
Sheila
--
Sheila Finkelstein

http://www.eteletours.com
Expanding Creativity - Transforming Perceptions

http://www.naturesplayground.com - our photo/drawing art
http://www.cafepress.com/natureart - gifts

and NOW - PICTURE TO PONDER,
a FREE daily Photo ezine to delight and inspire
Past Issues & Subscribe: http://ezezine.com/home/1866/

I loved today??™s issue of story-time issue (April 15) . They were very entertaining. The story of the squirrels and the guns was very humorous and Professional gramma's remined me of my own dear grandmother. i am forwarding this on to some of my friends nathalie Symonds

Great story about the hands. Makes a person stop and think! Thanks and GOD BLESS

Susan Roberts

Announcements

Seeking pastors and writers to submit articles for a monthly Christian newspaper, which will begin Jan. 2006. Stories pertaining to the intervention of God's hand in people's lives and uplifting the Lord Jesus Christ. E-mail james4436@charter.net

Prayer Requests

Dear friends/family,

I just received the news that my nephew, Craig, who is stationed in Iraq has just returned from a battle where his best friend, Steve, was injured having had his teeth knocked out plus other light injuries. Craig came back out of battle unscathed but he is supposed to be going out soon, again. Please continue to keep him in prayer.  We just seem to be holding our breathes with worry in one hand and our faith in the other.  Thank you for your time but mostly your prayers, NormeLee

Dear Prayer Warriors:

Thank you all for your prayers, and please keep them coming.

Boots will be undergoing some very aggressive therapy for his prostate

cancer.  Please pray our Lord's Peace, strength and love that passes

all understanding for Boots and Barbara Bartlett.

Love, Barbara J. Ervin-Weymouth

Here is an update on Boots from his wife Barbara:

Hi Barbara

Boots does have prostate cancer. The biopsy showed that it was. The good news so far is it hasn't gone into the bones yet. He has to have a CT to make sure it's not in the lymph nodes.

He has to have radiation, chemo, and hornomon treatment all at the same time.

The Dr. said he is pretty sure the treatments would work as long as it hasn't gone into the lymph nodes. lets hope so!!!! We are hanging in there.

That's all we can do now and pray.

Answer to Prayers

To all;

God bless you all for your prayers god sure did answer them, my brother Terry

came through surgery just fine. It took four hours instead of two, the doctor

said the nerve that is connected to his spine was badly pinched and twisted

and that if he hadn't  had surgery he would have been paralyzed.

Thanks again for all your prayers.

God bless you all

Richard & Jackie Sims

SENIOR WRITERS

Agee, Vance;  Apted, Violet;  Baker, Kathy;  Batt, Al;  Berry, Nell;

Boda, Ginger;  Bryant, Sharon;  Buhagiar, Victor; Cassady, B.J.;  Crider, Mark; 

Deming, Barb; Goodier, Steve;  Harris, Kathy Anne; Hunt, Sharlette; 

Jacobson, Gary;  Kiser, Roger Dean; Kerens, Claudia; Jenkins, Pamela;

Liles, Norma;  Mazzella, Joe; Ojeigbe, Georgewaters;

  Petry, Dianna Doles; Roberts, Susan;  Shaw, Bob; Sims, Richard; Vaknin, Sam;

Walker, Bill;  Walker, Joe; Warner, Gorden K;

Whirity, Kathy;  White, Robert;

STORYTIME TAPESTRY STAFF

Publisher: Carol Roach-founder

Moderator: Thelma Hartselle-co founder

Moderator: Clara Westerfer

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