Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

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

May 23, 2006

Today’s announcements

Hi everyone..

I was just on the phone with Nikki and she's doing so well for being at zero.. The doctor's came in to see her a bit ago and said she was the healthiest patient in the unit... They were all so surprised considering what her reports showed from the last chemo sessions. 

She did ask that I get this out for her brother though.  He had to be taken to the doctor's yesterday.... the place where he had the bone marrow extracted from is swollen and he has a fever.  She asked that prayers be said for him. The doctor's aren't sure why he's having this right now, but they are giving him antibiotics and watching him closely.  Thanks for everything you've done so far for Nikki and know the prayers are working miracles for her.  Love to all, Al

I have only one story to offer today because it is a long one, but a good one.  After reading it, do you begin to wonder that Polly was indeed a mother as well?

Now onto the good stuff!

Today’s Mother’s Day Stories

~**~**~

A Learning of Woods and Bear—and River

Short story by Louise Nomani

Hester was of plaid shirts, khaki pants and sturdy leather shoes that were made for climbing over rocks or into boats.  She was a performer too, although rarely, and I would sit in delight when she would produce her guitar and strum beautiful chords for my entertainment.  Her home intrigued me for the bathroom was on the second floor----no running water or heat up there, but the in-house perch worked and one’s outcomes fell two stories to some remote collection point.  I never investigated.    It was an in-house outhouse.

Rural Maine was her home and the little town had one store.  It was next door and so, of course, a telephone or newspaper was never far off; and neighbors congregated on the front porch of the store to discuss politics or share news of neighbors or to spin yarns of spectacular hunting or fishing excursions. If I had a nickel or two in my pocket, I could go there and stand before the row of glass jars that were filled with luscious hard candies.  I think my favorite were the butterscotch balls.  Oh they were yummy! It was a town of just a hundred or two, and it seemed to me to be one big family though sometimes I would overhear talk that led me to believe that there were a few outcasts who had transgressed laws or family expectations and generally those folks moved to another small town or just took up residence in the back woods.

Mainers, some of them come from wild hybrid stock. I had heard my father talk of it, and usually he would laugh but sometimes he would speak of the hardship and the alcohol that many endured. For those folks houses were always too small and too stuffy, and they would leave their boat at the river and be gone most days as they attended to the important tasks of living.  These tasks mainly were Hunting----whatever season legally, or poaching illegally or fishing ----any season legally or otherwise.  There were few game wardens in those long ago days and most of them cared very little for a little stretching of the law for these Mainers did not waste, and they fed their families and their neighbor’s families with their bounty.  

Hester wasn’t wild, but she was always happier out than in.  She was my mom’s best friend. They would traipse all day down woods roads or deer path, and she and mom would pretend to hunt. They would pack a huge lunch  and be gone for hours for my  mother was more interested in gathering specimens of rock or fern  or wildflower and catching up on the details of Hester’s life than she was in the hunting. Mom’s greatest triumph was firing her gun one day at a huge buck that was partially hidden by a large boulder.  She didn’t hit the deer but she pointed out to us for years the boulder that had protected him from her lethal weapon. That boulder seemed a trophy to her, and I never dared ask if her gun was actually loaded. Hester was a pro though, and there was always meat in her freezer. I recall photos of deer, moose, bear and other wild things that came to be in front of her shooting eye. These would sometimes hang from a beam in her garage so that everyone could admire a fine specimen and pay homage to her skills.

Well, Mom and Hester would return in the evening to the little house beside the store.  They would prepare a small feast of venison steak or stew or fresh trout or some other delicacy depending on the season.  I would watch from a far corner as nine year olds do.  I would watch in awe as the feast matured. Fresh green beans, new potatoes, brook trout that were filleted with the skill of a surgeon and then dipped in seasoned flour and cornmeal.  These they would cook tenderly in rich bacon fat. Homemade bread would come off the shelf of the little store next door.  Sometimes they would send me for it and give me an extra nickel for a piece or two of candy.  Mostly they barely noticed me for they shared memories and laughter and my mother grew into a different person in this environment that was far removed from our big town life.  She was gay and bright and happiness lit up her face. Hester’s husband Dick would appear sometimes and eat and then be gone back to that space of woods camp and quiet that nourished his soul. The house was too small and too warm for him, and he seemed to me a quiet shadow that never took up any space.

After supper, Hester and mom would retrieve the cribbage board from under the blue covered chair, and the two of them would enter a fierce contest resting on a penny a point for the winner.  Hester always won and I could never tell how she managed that feat.  The winning gave her huge joy, and she would hoot and carry on as she pocketed the small handful of pennies.  Their wine glasses were somehow always half full, and the game would become more and more raucous as the evening progressed.

I entertained myself with the library of old magazines and books that were piled helter shelter about the living room.  They were uncommon books in their content for Hester had bright intellect and a college degree.  This was no small feat for a woman in those years living in that little village. My mother was equally bright and they were a good match as they sparred and poked at each other. I loved their amicable contest of wit and cribbage skill.  Hester’s daughter, Polly, and I were both readers and almost like shadows in our own spaces that were warmed by the happiness of these two great friends.

  “Weenie, Polly, Hester said. Breaking into the quiet of my mind, “  She had my full attention with that tone of voice.

“There are some cookies in the cookie jar.  Now you just go have a glass of milk and a cookie----and if you have two I won’t notice.” 

They were wonderful cookies of oatmeal and raisins and they were big and plump and I had been waiting hours hoping there were some left.  They were just out of the oven when mom and I arrived at Hester’s door.  I ran to the kitchen and helped myself for that was expected.    Polly already had one in her hand and it looked huge.  It was bigger than mine.  It was bigger than any left in the jar.    She laughed at the disappointment in my face, and that annoyed and embarrassed me.

    Girls,   Hester said.  Tomorrow I’m thinking we should hike into Otter pond.  We’ll camp overnight and come out Sunday; but Weazie, Your mom has to go home.  Would you like to go camping anyhow?”  

“Oh yes!” I said jumping up and down.  I looked at mom for approval and she was smiling.  I knew that it had been long arranged.  It accounted for the knapsack that I had spotted in the hallway.  That had looked like mine with a pony emblem on the top flap and water stains from a past adventure.”

“Good, good!” Hester said. Then you girls better get yourselves to bed.  Polly show Weazie where she can sleep and be off with you.  It’s a long walk and we’ll want to make an early start”

Nervous energy raced through my body.  I couldn’t wait.  It was going to be an adventure.

Phrases come to me, Phrases like downtown, uptown, in town, over town and out of town.  Otter pond was definitely out of town.  It was miles away from anywhere.  It was country for bear and moose, deer, lynx and other creatures that don’t much like company.  I wasn’t scared about that.  I was going with Hester.  I gave mom a hug and followed Polly up the stairs.   I couldn’t wait for morning. I was going on a camping trip with Hester.

 Weazie and the River

 I only slept a minute or two and awoke to the sounds of a cast iron fry pan placed on that old gray cook store that took up at least a third of the kitchen.  Its cold many Maine mornings, and I raced down the stairs in my bare feet to slide into a chair close to the smells and warmth of that old stove.  A large backpack stood in the corner and my heart beat faster for I could tell that Hester was ready to go. I jumped from my chair. 

 “Are we going now?  Can we go now?” 

 Hester barely moved her feet but like a crane she plucked me up and set me back down in that hard chair. 

“Now Weezie,” she said.  “I have to eat my breakfast and you too or we’ll not be strong enough to go on that long walk.” 

I didn’t believe her.  She was the strongest woman I had ever seen being about 6 feet tall with arms and shoulders like a man.  She was a real woods woman.  She was beautiful, I thought, with long graying blonde hair that she tied back carelessly or piled on top of her head.  She said she kept it long so as to keep her head warm in the winter.  That made sense to me, and I decided I too would grow my hair very long.

My hair was short and straight and blonde and just looked silly, I thought with those stupid glasses that I had to wear everywhere.

“Polly, Its time to go.  Hurry up now.  Git yourself down here.” 

I had forgotten about Polly.  I loved being the center of attention.  Polly was much older than I and also very beautiful.  I didn’t much like her for she had that air of superiority that cloaks girls when they start to be noticed by the boys, and the boys noticed Polly.  Hester was mumbling and grumbling but the French toast started to come out of the pan’ and I got the first slices and covered them with butter and syrup. “Polly, Hurry up!”  Hester was losing her patience and I felt relieved when Polly came into the kitchen. Polly exuded sweetness and light and apologies and I disliked her more for her smiling warmth.

Breakfast was scrambled eggs and French toast and Canadian bacon.  Milk for me but Hester’s coffee was thick and dark under the cream. I loved the smell of it.   I couldn’t taste anything.  My feet were cold too and I tucked them underneath me in the chair.  Breakfast took forever, but finally Hester let me out of the chair with one of those looks and I raced back upstairs to get dressed.” Layers she told me.  I want to see at least three layers.” I knew about layers.  Dressing in layers means tee-shirts, flannel shirts and sweat shirts.  Sometimes a jacket too and I was sure my mom had packed one for me.

 I couldn’t find my socks; my buttons wouldn’t button.  I couldn’t tie the shoelaces so they’d stay tied.  My heart was racing top speed.    I was going on an adventure.  I tore down the stairs

And stood in front of Hester for a 10 second inspection. “Did you wash up, she asked.  Did you brush your teeth? I left that pitcher of water for you.”  Panic struck me.  I lied and nodded my head.  She looked at me right in the eye and saw the lie.  Not a word but then the magic, “Let’s go.”

It seemed cold out after the warmth of the cook stove, and I put on my jacket.  My little brown knapsack fit well about my shoulders. It held little except peanut butter crackers and a water bottle, clean socks, sneakers, underwear and a spare sweater.  Mom would always worry that I would fall into the lake and would want to send me spare parts for everything.  That seemed silly to me.  My father would say “Mother she won’t melt”

We were off to the river.  It wasn’t a long walk but my legs were shorter than Hester’s by a mile and shorter than Polly’s too for she was much taller than I.  I didn’t want Hester to think that Polly was out walking me so I walked hard and practiced taking very long steps so I could keep up.  The little boat was at the river, motor on and waiting to go.  Hester bailed for it had collected a lot of water in the previous night’s rain.  It had rained hard, and the river was high and flowing fast with limbs and other debris racing with the current.  I felt a little apprehension.  All of a sudden that boat didn’t seem very big and I looked at Hester but she didn’t seem to notice.  Polly was quiet too and I sure wasn’t going to be the one to hesitate and show my fear.  But couldn’t they see that the river was too high?  Didn’t they know that the current was running too strong for the little boat? 

Hester read me.  She was so smart and I felt as if she could see right through me.  “Weezie, she said, grab that can and bail for a bit.  We’ll be ready to go in a minute or two.  This old boat loves to get out into the river.  She knows it all the way to Brunswick.  My goodness, in this current maybe we’ll go to Brunswick.”  She laughed at my face thinking that would reassure me and I knew she didn’t expect a response.  I wasn’t reassured.  The river looked mean and gray and cold.

Hester fiddled with the motor, and Polly and I bailed.  Polly splashed me twice, and I could tell she did it on purpose.  The water in the bottom of the boat was thrashing fish yucky, and the splash dirtied my jacket.  Polly’s was still fresh and clean.  It irked me.  I splashed her with a goodly amount and then apologized profusely. I smiled warmly.   We were even now.  I felt better but Polly didn’t like me the better for it I could tell.  Her face was a scowl.   I should have known better than to rile her.  I worried just a little about payback for she was bigger and faster than I.  I didn’t know Polly well but it was clear that we were not cut out to be best friends.  Polly was an only child coming late in a late marriage and she was spoiled.  She had never even invited me into her bedroom or shared her games.  I didn’t like her.  I held my little grievances and she did nothing to defuse them.  Another spray of water caught me full in the face and I saw Polly’s smile just as Hester growled at us. “You girls grow up”!

“Hop in, Hester said.  We’re ready.  Weezie you sit there in the middle.” Polly give us a push.”  The motor was sputtering, and then it roared and we backed into the current.  Hester headed up river, and the little boat charged into the current with the courage of a battleship.

  “Weezie, Polly, You girls fasten those life vests. I don’t want to be swimming after you in this cold current. We’ll go north to Bear Cove and then we’ll pick up the path to Otter Pond.  “It will be fun she said.  We’ll be in by lunch time.  We’ll pitch the tent and go fishing this afternoon, or, she said looking at me, you and Polly can take the row boat out and explore the shoreline.” Polly knows where the little beach is and you can go swimming.

This was fun. I felt a little better even though our boat was making slow progress against the current.  Hester seemed unconcerned at this, and I forced myself to sit quietly.  “Oh look, Polly said.

“Do you see that bear?” 

He was a beauty and I watched as he ambled along the riverbank looking for lunch.  A huge paw shot out and then I realized that he had a large fish in his grip but not for long for the fish disappeared from view as bear devoured him.  I shuddered at the image of the fish disappearing into the bear’s mouth even while the fish’s-tail continued to wag in desperation. It boggled my mind even as it turned my stomach. The Bear looked at us sharply as we motored past, and it looked to me like he was daring us to intrude.  I was glad to see him disappear into the woods.  “Hester, would he eat us too?” I asked.   Hester laughed and the laugh sounded like bells and it wiped that awful image from my mind.

“Polly, grab that paddle and give the other to Weezie.  We’re in for some excitement.  I do believe they’ve opened the gates at the dam.  Look at this water.  Watch out for those logs.  Just push them away with your paddle she said to me.”

Hester turned the little boat towards shore. There were a lot of trees and stumps and branches rushing towards us, and our little boat couldn’t outrun them.  A huge eagle passed over us casting a long shadow.  I had never seen one so close and heavy and my heart trembled for he looked beautiful and ferocious all in one.  His face was not kind, and he looked me square in the eye as he flew over.  I knew he was looking for lunch.  I sure didn’t want it to be me.

The boat shuddered beneath me.  I heard it crack and then our motor gasped.  I knew we were in trouble.  Hester didn’t say a word, but I thought I could hear low muttering as her face became more and more perplexed.  I was thoroughly scared now.  Then, the motor stopped trying, and all of a sudden there was just the loud quiet of river current and crashing debris that was quickly swallowing us. 

“Weezie hand me your paddle, Hester said.  We’ll get this old boat to shore if I have to walk on water.”   I laughed at that.  I thought she was joking but I couldn’t always tell.  There was just a hint of desperation in that quiet voice.  The hundred yards to shore looked like miles.  Our little boat started to twirl in circles as rapids caught us. “Hang on Weezie.  We’ll be fine.  Polly watch out for that tree. “The warning was almost too late and Polly flinched as a branch whipped across her face. 

The little whirlpool like a rocket sent us towards the shoreline but that still remained an impossible distance, and we continued our race downstream in that strong current..   “Girls, we’ve rapids ahead.  Get down in the bottom of the boat.  Quick now.  If we miss the rocks we’ll be home for lunch.”  Hester’s paddle was a poor rudder.  My heart was racing and then I saw the rocks ahead. They were huge and gray and looked angry in the racing river.  “Hang on tight Hester said, we’ll be fine. The water is shallow here.”  We crashed into a boulder and the force of the current spun us round and then round again.  Crash we were against another and then a tree stump had us in its grasp.

There were more rocks but that old stump took the hits sheltering us from the impact and then all of a sudden our boat was running free.  Hester sat up and I saw that her face was white and glossy with perspiration.

“We made it she said.  By golly, we made it.  Jack’s lunch shack is just ahead.  Hot dogs and brownies just ahead.  Is anybody hungry?   My golly, we deserve a snack”!

I was giddy with relief and excitement. My palms were wet with the sweat of fear.   No words could have been sweeter.  I stood up quickly to see where Hester was looking and in a flash I tumbled headfirst into the water as the little boat swerved.  I think I heard someone say “STUPID”.  I hit my head and arm and couldn’t find the bottom of the river.  The boat was spinning away, and the current was pulling at me.  My layers of clothing became a sponge, and all of a sudden I couldn’t move with the weight.  A tree branch pushed me over and was trying to strangle me. The river was swallowing me, and all the time the word STUPID was washing through my mind.

 I remember fighting and trying to get my head out of the current. The life vest kept me from sinking to the bottom but I kept rolling in the current battered by those branches and boulders.  I tried to scream, but the sound was lost.  My desperation made me numb.  My legs wouldn’t work.

All of a sudden   there were arms about me and a voice. “Don’t fight me stupid!” She had me against her chest, her other arm over a log and that helped keep us both above water.  I was hurting and crying and felt like a baby. “Stupid” The words resonated in my mind, but it was Polly that saved me. Polly saved me. I didn’t question it.

Polly and I took a wild ride down that river with our arms over that log .The current washed us downstream until a ridge of gravel allowed us to find our feet against a huge boulder in the river bed.  She did not let me go, and we stood there clinging to one another until our shaking stopped and I could breath. “Are you okay?” she asked examining me with a careful look. I could only nod.  Hester and the little boat were not far ahead secured against Jack’s dock.   

I could hear Hester’s booming voice panicked and anxious for our welfare. Stay right there she said. We’ll get you in a minute. I could hear other voices too but it was Polly’s arms that held me as the world went black, and I faded from consciousness.

I came to a short minute later, as strong arms lifted me into a big flat bottomed boat.  Polly was beside me and blankets were wrapped about our shoulders as the motor roared and the boat spun around taking us to Jack’s. There were too many eyes upon me and I knew I needed a plausible story to cover this incident.  The words stupid haunted me in their accuracy. “Weezie, my goodness girl, Hester said, whatever made you think you wanted to take a swim in this old mean river?”

This was pressure but my mind was still working.  I came up with the biggest fish story ever.  “Didn’t you see him?” I asked Didn’t you see that fish?  He was gigantic!  He was flying.  He jumped right at me and tipped me over. He knocked me right into the river!”

 Hester was used to outrageous fish stories. They all were, but they didn’t expect such a tale from this shocked and bedraggled youngster.  Polly was quick, and she looked her mother in the eye. “Geese Mom, she said.  I saw him too. You should have seen him.  He was so big he must have been four feet long!”  “Louise is lucky, Polly said.  My word he could have killed her!”  Hester looked me right in the eye.  She measured the dimensions of this tall tale.  She didn’t flinch, and the lie served.  Everyone laughed and let me off the hook.

Polly was a true heroine, and she quickly became the center of attention as she described her save. I retreated under the blanket but felt Polly kick me hard, twice. I glanced at her face and saw the smile. I knew that we would be best friends, and I kicked her back to be sure she understood.

Louise Nomani

windmill@tdstelme.net

Biography:

Louise is a Maine girl who loves the wonderful outdoors especially when seen from the top of a horse.   She is married and has three daughters, three cats, three dogs and three horses.  I am hoping to have at least three lives she says so I can indulge myself with a pursuit of hobbies and family.  I am retired and it is grand to have this great freedom!

Readers Feedback

Before I got half way through Mary's "Preshus Memories" I knew she had
to be a Texas gal.
Thanks
Mark Crider, Corpus Christi, Texas

Thank you Mary for sharing "She didn't know I listen'd" with us. My mother was a single parent as well, and our troubles too seemed endless growing up but one thing that always seemed endless was our mother’s love. Your poem is beautiful! It touched me so much that I had to call my mom at work and read your words to her. Can't wait to read more! ...P.S, I was named after my grandmother too.     Mary M.Dees

Comments from May 17, 2006

Just a short note to let all of the writers here know how much I have enjoyed each and every one of the Mother's Day stories. Our youth passes by very quickly and by the time we really start to appreciate all of our mother's love and sacrifices, we often find ourselves becoming a caretaker to them. Thanks to each and every one of you who have opened your hearts to share your mothers with all of us who read the Tapestry.

Dianna Doles Petry

dianna59@charter.net

Prayer Requests and Updates

Dear Prayer Warriors

Please pray for me today, more things are going on at work

and I need your prayers for strength to hold up under them.

It's not the work, I can handle that just fine, Pray with me that

what is being done in the darkness will come to the light!

Thanks for your prayers, I love each one of you with all my heart!

God Bless you,

Barbara

Senior Writers

Chief writer: Sharon Bryant

                                     Chief researcher/historian: Hartson Dowd

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 Johnson - moderator