by Kathy Brasby | May 5, 2015 | Stories
I got fresh insight yesterday into why God gives us sons after the snake convention.
Training to compete in 5K runs is totally misusing the word “compete” but there I was yesterday, getting in another two-mile run in preparation for my next 5K run. I compete only in the sense that I can outrun the walkers. For the most part.
But yesterday I decided to take one of my favorite running routes. I jogged on the road beside an irrigation canal, where I can watch the calming waters flow past me while the long green grass framing the road reaches out to touch my legs.
It was a peaceful run until something moved beside me as I ran. Something big. Something worth stopping and turning around to look.
A 30-foot long snake as thick as a car tire was coiled up, its tail shaking in fierce anger while its tongue darted in and out. At least that was my first impression.
And I ran within a foot of this furious monster.
I finally went on after my heart rate settled a bit, returned cautiously, and then came across a second snake sprawled across my path. At least it didn’t curl into a hissing coil as I sprinted by.
I had to tell someone this story so, when I got home, I marched into the computer room where both sons happened to be discussing some video game.
I told them what had happened.
Had our daughters heard this first, they would have gasped with fear or concern.
“Are you all right?” they probably would have said. “Were you scared? Did you get light-headed?” Stuff like that.
But I got to tell the sons first.
After I finished my tale about running with snakes, the older leaned forward with something sparkling in his eyes and said, “I’ll bet that really helped your pace today.”
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by Kathy Brasby | May 1, 2015 | Seasons
Maude hoisted a wicker basket heavy with wet clothes onto her hip and headed out the back door for the clothes line. She wasn’t going to tell Lilly where she was going.
Lilly was still washing breakfast dishes and Maude was restless. Even if Lilly had asked her to rest after breakfast, who wanted to do that? It was hard to sit still when her hands itched for work.
Maude hurried as fast as her old legs could carry her, before Lilly could call for her to stop. Lilly didn’t understand.
Lilly needed her help. With that brood of kids, she worked hard all day long.
And she was too stubborn to let Maude help.
Maude looked across the yard. Where was the clothes line? She hadn’t been visiting long enough to spot it immediately. Oh, there it was.
She dug wooden clothes pins out of a bag hanging near one of the poles. First, she’d hang all the boys’ pants. Then the socks.
The basket emptied slowly and the sun seemed a little closer when she finished the job. Maude ran the back of her hand across her forehead. It was going to be a hot one.
Lilly hadn’t caught her yet and the job was done. Maude hoped she would be pleased with the help.
Time to head back in. Judging by the sun, it was probably time to start making dinner.
Maude hoisted the basket onto her hip again and turned. What in the world? She turned again and squinted her eyes.
The river in the valley below looked different. The entire valley had shifted. She turned again. Where had the back door gone?
She was lost.
She chose a direction and headed off. Before long, she heard a call.
“Mom! Mom! Where are you going?”
It was Lilly, behind her. Maude turned around. She’d known Lilly would come for her. She waved her arm and Lilly ran to her.
“Where were you going?”
Maude shrugged her shoulders. “I had to find a new way home. The river moved.”
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by Kathy Brasby | Apr 28, 2015 | Stories
We can be a little frugal (I avoided other terms like penny-pincher and scrooge-like) in our family.
That’s why our daughter decided to spend a day crafting her own wire rabbit cage. Cheaper that way. I mean, frugal, of course.
She discovered some extra wire panels behind the garage and set to work with her materials in front of the tool shed.
She had to bend corners, crimp the back and front panels onto the main framework, design her own doorway into the cage.
She spent most of the time on her knees twisting and binding wire.
And then it was done.
She took a step back to admire the cage. It fairly glowed in the afternoon sun.
Her back ached, her hands were sore, and she decided she needed a little recreation after the big project.
We had 40 acres of open pasture and so a run on the four-wheeler looked invigorating.
Off she went. At 14, she hadn’t started training for her driver’s license but she handled the four-wheeler with experience.
She zipped across trails, feeling the wind blow through her hair. She made a loop around the house, leaning into the turn.
The cool early-evening air sliced past her as she drove on and on.
And then she swung around the chicken house with a little more speed than she intended and the four-wheeler refused to turn tightly.
She didn’t want to roll her vehicle so she eased out of the sharp turn.
Just in time to see what was ahead of her on the path.
She spent most of the day building her own rabbit cage but it only took about three seconds to flatten it with those big four-wheel tires.
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by Kathy Brasby | Apr 24, 2015 | Seasons
Sometimes our elders have the wit of children when the spotlight is on.
That old television show, “Kids Say the Darndest Things,” has nothing on a senior citizen’s group.
We were sitting in a big circle in the activities room at the nursing home with each person answering questions. Queries included “Tell us a nursery rhyme” and “What is your favorite food?”
Laura, who was leading the activity, glanced down her list of questions on the paper in her hand. “All right, Irma,” she said, “Tell us what your favorite class was in school.”
“Arithmetic,” Irma said.
“Music,” Jim said.
“Social studies,” Dora said.
“Geography,” Lila said.
And then it was Sadie’s turn. Her eyes lit up as Laura stepped in front of her.
“So what was your favorite class in school, Sadie?”
Sadie’s eyes twinkled. “My favorite class was three o’clock! My only trouble was that I was still five miles from home.”
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by Kathy Brasby | Apr 21, 2015 | Stories
You know that some people show dogs and some show horses so it shouldn’t shock you that some people show rabbits, too.
At these shows, rabbits are required to have a tattoo in their left ear. A rabbit missing a tattoo is disqualified from a class.
Josie had three rabbits to show in one class and she had crutches after knee surgery. So friends offered to carry her entries to the show table.
“Check the tattoos,” she called out, “to be sure you have the right rabbit.”
Nicole peeked in the ear. “Um, Josie, there’s no tattoo.”
“None? Oh, dear.” Josie looked around. She was surrounded by other rabbit breeders and she lifted her voice. “Who has a tattoo pen with them?”
Somebody always had a tattoo pen.
“I’ll do it.” Terry held up her tattoo pen. “What is the tattoo in the ear?”
Josie checked her paperwork. “SPCOCOA.”
“Really.” Terry studied her for a moment. “In that ear you want me to put all that?”
Nicole fidgeted. A muffled voice blasted from the speakers above. “They’re calling for entries. We need to hurry.”
Josie threw her hands up. “Oh, it doesn’t matter. Get whatever you can and we can substitute at the table.”
So that’s how a little brown rabbit named Cocoa ended up, for life, with the number one in her ear.
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