Sally’s Cafe and Bookstore Author Update – Kevin Morris, Jane Dougherty and Judy E. Martin

Fishin’

Andrew Joyce's avatarAndrew Joyce

fishin

Johnny Donohue was my best friend when I was twelve years old. On Saturday mornings, we would go fishing. Because we would arise at 3:00 am and meet shortly thereafter, we called it “going fishing at three in the morning.”

This particular Saturday morning when I arrived at Johnny’s house, two of his three brothers were milling about outside. His brother Terry was a year younger than than we were and hung out with us quite a bit, so it was no surprise to see him. But, to see his youngest brother, Matthew, who was only six, was a different story. Before I could ask Johnny what was up, Matt came running up to me and said, “I wanna go fishin’.”

Johnny approached me. “If I try to leave him behind, he’ll just follow us or make such a racket he’ll wake up my parents.” So we bowed to the…

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Guest Writer – The Birch Maiden by Paul Andruss – Illustrated by Donata Zawadzka

Get Your Kicks Where You Can

A senior couple came out of a coffee shop on Memorial Day to find an officer putting a ticket on a car whose meter had expired. Irate the man accosted him, “You Nazi Turd! Don’t you have any respect for yor elders.” The officer coolly wrote a second ticket for worn tires.

His wife jumped in, “You dog, if you didn’t have on that uniform, you wouldn’t have the nerve to face a real man.”

The insults continued on for several minutes, with the officer writing several more tickets till a bus pulled up to the corner and the elderly couple boarded.

Andrew and Molly Part 11

img_1866Image pulled from internet

Master Wharton bought the indenture of Benjamin White, a recently arrived bondsman, in anticipation of Bartles and Aggie’s completed contract.  As soon as their cabin was complete, the older couple moved over, though they’d continue to work another month for Master Wharton.  The young couple moved into the house, looking forward to the comfort of the fireplace the next winter.   They took their precious bed-linens but left their furniture in the barn-room.  Aggie passed her old bedding on to Benjamin since she and Molly had made all new for Aggie’s new home.  Molly had proudly presented Aggie with toweling of her own making, the first gift she’d ever been able to give anyone.  Aggie and Bartles would go to their new home on twenty-five acres with a cow, horse, plow, bed-linens, seed for their first crop, and a suit of clothes each, their entitlement for completing their indenture.

Bartles, Benjamin, and Andrew planned to work on Bartles’s barn roof as long as the light lasted one August evening.  Aggie and Molly served Master Wharton’s dinner and did needlework as they waited for their men.  As the light faded they strolled over to the unfinished barn to see what progress they’d made.

“You must be looking forward to be working for yourself,” Molly said companiably.  “I’ll miss working by your side, but am glad to see you ready to move to your own place.”

“The four years have been long , it’s true. But if we’d stayed in England, we’d never have come to all this.  I never thought to have my own house and land.  In three years, you will move to your own place.”

“That will be a fine day.” Molly agreed.

The men were nowhere in sight when they entered the clearing, not answering when the women called out.  Rounding the house, they found Bartles unconscious with his bloody body lying amid scattered tools. His bare skull showed through clotted blood where a wide strip bare of scalp.  There was no sign of the other two men.

Aggie perceived instantly that the men had been attacked by the Native Americans indigenous to the area. The colonists had a long history of difficulties with the neighbors they considered savages. In 1622, three-hundred-forty colonists were massacred, nearly ending the settlement. Colonists had long felt God intended the land for them, a concept the natives had difficulty embracing. As a result of many lies and betrayals, hostilities often erupted to rupture the friable peace.

The three bondsmen had fallen victim, two missing and one clinging to life.

What’s So Funny About That?

Something to think about from Aunt Beulah.

Aunt Beulah's avatarAunt Beulah

jeering

“I don’t have answers; but I do have questions designed to make you think,” said the workshop leader, a young man with kind eyes and hair beyond his control.

“Oh great,” I thought, “I signed up for a workshop on humor in the classroom to get ideas on how to make learning fun; instead I’m going to spend forty-five minutes thinking lofty thoughts. Good grief.”

The instructor then asked a series of questions that, indeed, required thought. Worse, after each query, he stood silently for what seemed like an eternity looking at his participants as though we were thinking. So we did.

“Think about a time when unkind words, parading as humor, hurt you or someone you know,” he said. “How did you feel?”

In response, I remembered one of my fourth-grade students and her family entering my classroom during a back-to-school open house. I smiled at the shy…

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If I can ever do that!

img_1865

 

Cartoon on courtesy of all nurses.com

After suffering through numerous brutal experiences at the hands of nurses as a student, I swore I’d do my best to encourage nursing students and ease their path.  I took time to show them procedures and include them at every possible intervention.

I invited an eager nursing student to join me as I prepared to insert needles into a patient’s dialysis access prior to a treatment after getting the patient’s approval.  Dialysis patients were almost invariably willing to help teach.  I meticulously prepared the materials needed, scrubbed the site for needle insertion and tore tape strips to securely anchor the needles in place.  The student was all eyes as I slid the needles in as painlessly as possible and the patient pronounced it a job well done.  I started the treatment so it was a few minutes before we had time for conference.

“Do you have any questions?”  I was prepared to explain precautions and how the needle placement was selected.

“Yes!  How in the world did you learn to tear tape so straight?  If I ever learn to tear tape like that I’ll know I’m a real nurse!”  Her admiration took me down a notch or two.

“It’s no trick.  You can do it right now.”  I pulled out a roll of tape and showed her it was scored for ease in tearing.

“Wow!  Thanks!”

 

Review and Shout Out for Colleen Chesebro’s Heartstone Chronicles: The Swamp Fairy

Review and Shout Out for Colleen Chesebro’s Heartstone Chronicles: The Swamp Fairy

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Source: Review and Shout Out for Colleen Chesebro’s Heartstone Chronicles: The Swamp Fairy