Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

April 7, 2006

Today’s announcements

Today is the last day for the April Fools Contest.  I sincerely hope that you have enjoyed the entries. I send a special thank you to all the writers who participated; without all of you there would be no Storytime Tapestry.  I am so stressed out and overwhelmed of late that I have not devoted anytime to writing.  Shame on me!  But now I need the members to vote for your favourite writers of this contest.  If you don’t shame on you!  You will receive shortly, the list of authors and their submissions.  Instructions on how to vote will be included.

Thanks again.

Now onto the good stuff!

Today’s Contest Stories

~**~**~

Warning:  This first submission is colourful and may not be for every reader.  Therefore I suggest if you are easily offended do not read it.  But for anyone else, it was a childhood prank and is to be taken as such. 

April Fools Day Joke

Mark Crider

Ya'know I just thought of a prank us kids did when we were in school and
it really caused a ruckus. And ya'know what, the teachers and
administrators always forgot by the next year.

First thing in the mornings a couple of us boys would have a plan to go
to the rest room. We had a small can of wheel bearing grease hidden and
one would stand watch while the other hurriedly went in the girls room
and put just a little tad on all the commode seats. And yes, that's
exactly what it looked like, not grease.

Sore frontal thigh muscles was the order of the day 'till they got it
cleaned up.

Never forget one really slim gal that was a big horseback rodeo player
told me after she found out that it didn't make her any difference
because she stood up anyway if you can imagine THAT. I told her "BS", I
don't believe it and she offered to show me, which I declined for
thoughts of a beating I wouldn't live through if caught.

Mark Crider

Mark@cccoating.com

~**~**~

Prot?g?e of George O. Beal

Kay Seefeldt

Mama used to recite a little ditty to me about a little girl who had a
little curl. She said it fit me perfectly because when I was good I was
very good, but when I was bad, I was horrid. Mama certainly recognized
horrid as her own father could have won prankster of the year award
many times.

Mama often told the story of her father and the smaller American dollar
bills. Pups (the grand kids' name for him) was an entrepreneur who
owned a lobster buying business and sold gasoline from a pump on the
end of the wharf to the lobstermen.

One day a yacht arrived at low tide, but it drew too much water to get
near the gas pump. My grandfather filled several gas cans and rowed it
out to them. One fellow paid in those newly sized bills. My grandfather
looked at the bills then let them slip through his fingers and flutter
into the water.  The yacht owner stammered, “Why the heck are you
throwing your money overboard? You crazy or what?”  My grandfather
replied (knowing full well it was money), “Oh my gawd, that’s money?
I’ve been giving that stuff to my wife as cigar coupons. I better get
home before she finds out what it really is!”  He jumped in his rowboat
leaving the money floating in the Atlantic and men from Massachusetts
with mouths agape thinking he must be some sort of maniac.

My favorite Pup’s story was about May, their young live-in housekeeper,
who helped my grandmother during the years she raised her six
daughters. My grandfather had a way about him that made people believe
every thing he said...the same way I fell hook, line, and sinker for
everything my brother would tell me years later. The word gullible ring
a bell?

May asked my grandfather if he’d mind if she visited a neighbor Pearl
who lived below the hill from my grandparents. The ground glistened
with ice from an early spring storm. My grandfather inquired, “May, do
you have any creepers so you don’t fall and hurt yourself?” Upon
telling my grandfather she didn’t, he replied, “You wait right here.
I’ll get you a pair from the attic.”

Presently he returned and handed her a pair of old bicycle stockings.
“Pull these on right over your shoes and you shouldn’t have any
trouble,” he informed her. May left slip-sliding all the way down the
hill with my grandfather gleefully chuckling over her ice capades from
the window.

Later she made her way back up the hill mostly on hands and knees. When
she came inside Mammie (my grandmother) asked, “Why on earth, May, are
you wearing bicycle stockings on this icy hill?”  May who was as naive
as she was gullible replied, “You and Pearl, don’t know a darn thing.
George Beal ought to know what creepers are. If it hadn’t been for
these here creepers he gave me, I’d have been down and killed!”  Mammie
replied, “George Beal does know creepers when he sees them, and he
knows those aren’t it!” Did May believe my grandmother?  Nawwww.

Roy and I were married on March 12th. Being the granddaughter of the
late, great Geo O. Beal, I couldn’t let our first April Fool’s day go
by with out at least a token trick. I had twenty days to come up with
something good that wouldn’t land me in divorce court.

On the First, I chuckled to myself as I played in my mind’s eye the
scenario of my prank. After our evening meal, Roy took a shower. This
is going to be easier than anticipated, I thought, as I laid out his
clean clothes like any new bride would. I had a tiny tinge of guilt
like leading a lamb to slaughter.  He’d  mentioned we needed to take
some trash to the dump, and he planned to take his 22 pistol to target
practice on a few rats after dark.

Within a short time of arriving at the dump, Roy had to answer the call
of nature. He walked away from the truck and into the cloak darkness.
Oh no, I thought, I’m going to miss out on his reaction.  Straining my
eyes, I could barely make out his form.  Roy got into the stance. I
could tell his elbows were flailing about.   He glanced towards the
truck as if there lie the source of his troubles. My gleeful chuckles
filled the cab of his truck as I imagined the perplexed looked on his
face. As he strode back, I tried reading his body language and
nervously wondered if he was ticked.

Roy opened the door and hitched himself onto the seat. “Seems I am
having considerable difficulty with the fly of my underwear. You
wouldn't know anything about that, would you?”

“Gee, the April Fool Fairy must have sewn it shut!” I allowed.

For years afterwards come April First, Roy watched me like a hawk and
checked his underwear for sabotage. Now, I believe, his guard is down,
and it’s time to strike again. I’ve been toying with packing his lunch
bucket with a “fake sandwich” replacing bologna with a piece of
cardboard, but have quickly abandoned that idea. Even though my man’s
usually mild mannered, he is like a bear waking from hibernation when
he’s hungry. Only a complete fool who doesn’t know what side her bread
is buttered on would mess with his food.  Besides, his right front
tooth has an expensive crown. Otherwise...

Kay Seefeldt
© March 26, 2006

birdnest@megalink.net

Kay Seefeldt admits her family is a little on the wacky side, but they
are the best and that’s no joke. In her spare time, she enjoys writing
and painting in watercolor or teaching it to beginning artists.  She
thanks God for all the blessings in her life.

April Fools

A Memory from my childhood – All the names are the same, I just don’t include many.

By Jan Verhoeff

When my Great Grandmother’s family came to Colorado, she wasn’t so keen on the dugouts. Grandpa Venn had brought my grandmother and a few other settlers out for a look-see prior to moving out, and had built a nifty little hole in the ground called a half dug out with a roof on top. Great Grandma had come from a family in Iowa who had “plenty” which meant they lived in frame homes with tall Grecian pillars and porches, the very idea of living in a hole was beneath her. Effie had all the makings of a Pioneer Woman, including a stubborn streak.

Grandpa Venn brought his family to Colorado in a covered wagon and a touring car through the panhandle of Oklahoma in 1916, arriving the day after my Grandmother’s 18^th birthday. After a quick supper of cornbread and jackrabbit stew prepared with the vegetables they’d brought from home in Oklahoma, they all set out about making their camp in the dugout.

For those of you unfamiliar with dugouts, they are about 8 feet deep, dug straight down into the prairie sod, which is usually a heavy clay type soil. If there’s rock around, the edges are layered with rock and then a roof is laid over the top with a single support beam in the center. The space was often about 16 feet deep by 20 feet long, and there was enough space for a family of 8 or 12 to sleep comfortably with the makings of a kitchen and heat source. The door let in light and sometimes narrow windows were left open near the eves. You can rest assured that part of the equipment brought from Iowa and Oklahoma included “proper beds” with frames and whatever sort of springs beds had back then. I remember hearing many stories of how soft the feather beds were, and how they were made with goose feathers and then layered with the softest cotton ticking.

I can still hear my Grandmother telling how her mother refused to go live in that terrible dark hole in the ground, refusing even to spend one night in that awful place. The joyfully told tale of their arrival often blessed the evenings spent with my grandparents when I was younger. Grandma would sit in her chair and crochet, sharing her memories of arrival and Granddad sitting in his chair slowly rocking, grinning from ear to ear, because his part of the story would come next.

“Mama refused to go down in that hole for even a moment, so as night fell and the most brilliant sunset we’d ever seen grew dark, Papa told her, “Effie, now I know you want to stay here in the wagon, and I’ve made you a bed here. But I want you to know there are coyotes and probably wolves out here, and when they start howling, you’re welcome to come down in the hole with the rest of us, I’ll save a place for you.” Mama steadfastly refused to come down.” The moon rose up in the sky and we left the door open so she could get in, papa checked on her often. After a while, the coyotes began to howl and there was a commotion not too far from the front door. We heard the wildest racket we’d ever heard in our lives, and a screamin’ and Mama was sayin’ something, and cryin’ and hollerin’ for help. Papa stood there by the door with his rifle in his hand, calmly sayin’, “Effie, I’m here watchin’. Why don’t you come on in here, so I can close the door and we’ll all be safe.” Mama scampered down out of that wagon in her petticoats and nightie and gathered them all up to run across the prairie grass and down the steps into that ole hole in the ground. She muttered for a while but settled in there next to papa on the soft feather bed.”  Grandma would brush away the tears that escaped her eyes as she shared her memory.

“I don’t remember hearing a single coyote on the prairie that night, after Mama came down in the dugout. The night passed and Papa was the first one out of bed the next morning, hootin’ and hollerin’ like a banshee, he woke us all up to come out and see the first Colorado snow and deer in front of the dugout.” She’d smile and her eyes would light up, a glint in the brightest blue I’d ever seen, before she finished telling the story.

“As we stood there on the prairie, our night shirts blowing in the Colorado winds, Papa spurted out “April Fools!” and we all laughed as we looked around and found no deer on the prairie and dry dirt beneath our feet. None of us had realized it was April First.”

Grandma would start rocking again in her chair, working the needle in the thread on her lap and Granddad would start his part of the tale. He’d tell about walking down the street in Oklahoma and telling his friend Lowell Story that he was gonna marry that woman one day, and the beautiful girl he was going to marry was none other than my grandmother the first time she’d passed through on her way to homestead in Colorado.

The miracle of that story was that that beautiful young woman and her parents homesteaded across the fence and county line from my grandfather’s homestead. The story changed over the years, sometimes longer, sometimes shorter, but Granddad always got the pretty girl in the end.

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Make it a blessed day.

~**~**~

NOT APRIL FOOL (March 2006)

By Georgewaters Ojeigbe – Lagos, Nigeria

gojiegbe@jhplc.com

If there had ever been a prank star I believe that the person should not have been anyone else other than I Georgewaters Ojeigbe.

I thought of writing a story for the ‘April 1 Contest’ but I just could not figure out any one.  Really, the April 1 game known as ‘APRIL FOOL’ has never worked out for me.  My case is like a dog owner who already understands the game of his dog.  He need not to be told each day after getting home that his dog would come waging tail at him; it has become normal.  So are my prank styles which many people have gotten used to.  Each year when it is April 1 people expect me to play pranks so they become too vigilant on me.  I have never been able APRIL FOOL anyone yet.

Now since I have nothing to write about an April Fool game, that should not stop me from writing about a big prank I played in an office where I once worked.  I cannot precisely remember the month but the year was 1993.  It all started one cool official morning.

That early morning my journey to the office was normal which those of us living in this ethic city of Lagos State, Nigeria are familiar with.  I sort of arrived office unusually early.  By this time the madam’s secretary that is our boss secretary had not arrived even though she lives closest to the office than everyone else.  I got the office building keys from the security man and went straight into the office when an inspiration on what prank to play puked my mind.  It came so sharp and I needed to be fast before my victim, the secretary arrives the office.

Zam! I moved towards a strategic place, a place by the main entrance where a cushioned chair stood.  Not to waste time in fulfilling my plan I mounted my feet on the chair arms to see how solid it would bear my weight.  It was strong enough but I had to check on my victim’s arrival in order to get on her on time.  I stood by one of the windows facing the major entrance gate from the main road, on the watch out for the dear lady secretary.

I had these thoughts in mind as I anxiously stood by the window; one, she would get into problem if madam arrives before her.  I knew this by the way the clock was moving faster towards resumption hour.  Two, she would rush into the office in order to sign the office monitoring register and I knew she would jot down 7:45 a.m. instead of past 8:00 a.m.; sister in the act of time forgery, well done!  Three, I knew that she would quickly want to start typing her hangover jobs.  Despite all, I was still anxious to play my game fast on her by capitalizing on her anxiety to quickly reach the office.  You know her blood pressure by now – probably 200!

In a short while, I saw her through the window running towards the main entrance gate.  She wasted no time greeting the security personnel on duty by waving at him.  Quickly, I took my position on the chair by the office entrance, waiting to leap on her as soon as she opens the door.  I was anxiously waiting for the ‘D minute’.

Cha, cha, cha, the sound of footsteps ascending the staircase got clearer and there was a pause after a while.  Next, I saw the doorknob turning slowly towards the left from within.  I took a striking pose on the chair with my hands stretched forward.  What I intended doing needed no time to do a recheck on my victim.

As the door swung open, I wasted no time in leaping from above on my victim as I screamed HA, trying to form the effect of a horror film’s soundtrack.  My victim gave a loud frightful cry as both of us crash-landed on the ground.  I quickly recognized the voice difference but it was too late for me as my victim happened to be madam; the boss herself and not her secretary.  Out of fret, she threw away the handbag and some few files on her arms.  Who wouldn’t have been so frightened?  As for all, the office apartment usually was empty like a burial ground!

Madam, now shivering all over pushed me away with all her might and tried running out of the office before she heard me apologizing.  It then downed on her who the prank star was.  It was a game and the game had fooled her.  By now my expected victim, madam’s secretary had just started mounting the staircase.  Later on, I told my supposed victim about my intention to scare her and how it turned against me by pouncing on madam.  The secretary could not hold back her laughter.

My game failed on the secretary because as soon as I saw her coming in through the main entrance gate I failed to notice madam’s car which followed her behind.  I learnt that madam called on her to come carry upstairs the things in her car bout.

Madam threatened me with a sack letter and I begged her for forgiveness, which I followed with a true confession of whom I had wanted to frighten but which ended up being her.  Later she told me to go for a medical test to see if I am mentally fit.  For the rest of my working for her she was always referring to that incidence at any mistake I made.

THE END!

 BIO-DATA

I was born on 21^st April, 1970.  I live in Lagos, Nigeria the most populous city in Africa. I sing in a Church music group where I fellowship.  I love sports.  I love admiring the heavens and other wonderful works borne from Jehovah’s hands.  I discovered the power of writing stories, encouraged by Carol.  Thanks for her existence!  I am pet lover minus snakes; I so much hate this creature called snake but others I prefer.  I like to do lots of home works like creating my art works, gardening, making some home furniture, fitting electrical appliances etc.

~**~**~

The Best April Fool's Joke of All

Jene Lind

I rememeber one autumn years ago I went to visit

my family during college break from Tennessee.

I traveled to Arkansas and while there joined my

cousins in the cotton fields to earn some extra

book money.  My aunt had 7 kids yet at home and

all were either in college, or in school. They all

worked in the fields. Getting up at the first break of

dawn, they would eat breakfast, stack the dishes in

the sink to be done later that night and head for the

fields. I worked a couple weeks and then went back

to Tennessee.

In the Spring I again visited this aunt but it was going

to be a surprise visit. She was always working in her

garden and i knew the routine by now.  We had two

days to go for April 1st, but I didn't care. I was ready

for my April Fool's joke on my aunt. Back then, no one

ever locked their doors. My cousin ( who was her nephew )

drove me and dropped me off to spend a weekend with my

aunt and uncle and 7 cousins. My Uncle was a minister of the

little country church in their rural town, I had never heard him

preach.  His daughters had taught me a bunch of songs in the

autumn when I was there and we had agreed that once i came

back in the Spring, I was to visit the church and sing with them

in  their choir. I was looking forward to that. But not as eager as

I was to "suprise" my aunt with my April Fool's joke.  You see, I

knew she always washed on Monday and sprinkled the clothes

and put them in a basket to iron when she got through with supper

on Tuesday. Many times she would be ironing into the night. Well, I went into the house and began my little "joke".  First I cleaned her floors. She had no carpeting so I used the dust mop and then wash-

ed the kitchen floor. I also cleaned her sink. They had no indoor

bathroom so I was spared that task. Then I started the ironing.

I did not know where the clothes went after I ironed them but I

knew she hung them all on a bar in her spare room and each

kid took their own clothes to their rooms. It took me nearly all

day long to iron all those clothes. Three baskets of them includ-

ing the boys jeans. Now that was a tough task. Ironing all those

jeans. But I finished about an hour before they were all due home.

I fixed a sandwish, cleaned the table up and went to dust the

furniture in the living room, singing the new songs I knew as I

worked.  I finally saw the pickup pull into the driveway. I made

sure all the lights were off and hurried into the girls room to hide

in their closet behind the curtain. She saw the iron on her drain

board as soon as she started to fix supper. She immediately

sensed someone in the house. She knew the iron was still warm

but had no idea I was there. They all started going all directions

looking for ...what, they didn't know. Finally when my older cousin

came into her room, I sneaked out of her closet and motioned for

her to be quiet. She started laughing. My Aunt came in to ask her

what was soo funny and I ran to her and yelled...APRIL FOOL!!"

She was very happy to see me and thanked me for doing all that

ironing. She had found the clothes on the bar. She thought her

older daughter may have come by and done it at first. But was

so happy to see me. That is one April Fool's Day I will never forget.

Jene' Lind

Jene Lind

Imauthor4u@aol.com

Senior Writers

Chief writer: Sharon Bryant

Agee, Vance; Apted, Violet; Baker, Kathy; Batt, Al; Berry, Nell; Blaine, Pamela; Boda, Ginger; Buhagiar, Victor; Cassady, B.J.; Cavalera, Robyn; Crider, Mark; Deming, Barb; Doherty, Maria; Gilbert, Robert, Jr.; Goodier, Steve; Braun-Haley, Ellie; Harris, Kathy Anne; Hunt, Sharlett; Hymes, Christina; Jacobson, Gary; Kiser, Roger Dean; Kerens, Claudia; Kevin, Tim; Jenkins, Pamela; Liles, Norma; Lily Jodi Flesberg; Lock, Joyce; Marlor, Janice Bumbalough; Mazzella, Joe; Morris, Deepak; Ojeibge, Georgewaters; Petry, Dianna Doles; Roberts, Susan; Shiveley, Debra; Shaw, Bob; Sims, Richard; Streidel, Saskia; Swarner, Ken; Vaknin, Sam; Verhoeff, Jan; Walker, Bill; Walker, Joe; Warner, Gordon, K; Walsh, Sue; Weymouth, Barbara J.; Whirity, Kathy;

Wainland, David; Westerfer, Clara; White Robert;

Storytime Tapestry Staff

Carol Roach - Founder/publisher

Thelma Hartselle - Co-Founder, Moderator

Clara Westerfer – moderator

Bob Johnston - moderator