New Hope Nefarious, So. Dakota

                            Town of Nefarious, Wyoming or Idaho: pop. 4957...953...236...

"Come Sick, Leave Healthy"

At the turn of the 1900s, Nefarious ** had been a boom town.  Seltzer Springs brought in wagons full of health seekers to use the springs, eat peculiar food, and spend money.

Alas, the Springs started to dry up along with the tourists.  Around 1993, the population itself dwindled.  Then one day, few boys were playing in the empty waterbed when they screamed in delight, ran back to the mayor, Doc Kincaid, who confirmed their big find.  He took to kids to his house and locked them in a closet.  "I'll let you out when the city council men get here."

The council men came quickly as there had been little to do lately.

The boys told them and led them to the creek bed.  "Look, Mr. Jenkins! Look!"  And there it was: the bones of an immense prehistoric boa, 50 feet long with the circumference of 8 feet.  Silence fell.  There was more to be found as they walked along the dried stream, lined with dinosaur bones.

In the quiet dining room of the widower Jasper Fillings way out of town, all men along with the boys sat around the dining table and a plan was hatched.  "In two weeks time, we must re-construct our miserable little town to make it look like it did back in 1890s.   Stores must occupy the empty old stores....and anyone known to be a gossip and who has relatives who are gossips must be confined." He paused and shook his head.  "How, I don't know."  

He continued. "Phones ripped out, Facebook and such shut down...secrecy is the key. Boys?  You wanta help or be locked up in the old boarded up classroom out in the dusty school?"

The town without the gossipy group threw muscle into renewal.  Quilts were ordered from China, tags removed, with new tags added "Hand-sewn by Louisa May Smith".  Rusty tools and blacksmith shop were restored.  Jars and jars of jams, preserves, and candles were ordered.  The labels were stripped off, and new ones put on: Mrs. Tucker's Homemade.... My...Oh, the work. Nefarious appeared to be frozen in the late 1800s.

The gossipy type had been sent on a 21 day cruise to Hawaii on the Holland American vee Dam.  They apparently had a wonderful time, and the cruise had been extended.

Finally, the paleontologists were summoned.  Two wise men, then four, then more:  all agreed that this was the biggest titanoba ever found, and joy overflowed as they walked down the creek bed.

A lackadaisical bearded old man was paid to sit in an old chair with his feet propped up on the sidewalk railing.  Curious tourists with full shopping bags asked him how long had he been there.

There had been no luck finding a old man.  Sam Elliot stepped

up to be the stand in for the weathered old cowboy.

Why? No one ever understood that.

"Heck if I know,"  he answered and then aimed some tobacco spit at the nearby spittoon.  Sometime he hit the mark, sometimes he did not.  All went well in Nefarious here on out.

Sue the T-Rex is front and center at Chicago's Field Museum and was found S. Dakota. Other than that, we will stay with the rugged states where dinosaur bones have been found.

This is a repost of Wednesday Words given as a challenge for bloggers to shake up their writing, to take a break from WIPs, try different genre.  A dear Blogger, Delores, started this challenge a few years back, passing the baton onto other talented bloggers. 

Nefarious Arises

 Town of Nefarious, Wyoming or Idaho: pop. 4957 ---953

"Come Sick, Leave Healthy"

At the turn of the 1900s, Nefarious ** had been a boom town.  Seltzer Springs brought in wagons full of health seekers to use the springs, eat peculiar food, and spend money.

Alas, the Springs started to dry up along with the tourists.  Around 1993, the population itself dwindled.  Then one day, few boys were playing in the empty waterbed when they screamed in delight, ran back to the mayor, Ol' Doc Kinkaid, who confirmed their big find.  He took to kids to his house and locked them in a closet.  "I'll let you out when the city council men get here."

The council men came quickly as there had been little to do lately.

The boys told them and led them to the creek bed.  "Look, Mr. Jenkins! Look!"  And there it was: the bones of an immense prehistoric boa, 50 feet long with the circumference of 8 feet.  Silence fell.  There was more to be found as they walked along the dried stream, lined with dinosaur bones.

 

Source

In the quiet dining room of the widower Jasper Fillings way out of town, all men along with the boys sat around the dining table and a plan was hatched.  "In two weeks time, we must re-construct our miserable little town to make it look like it did back in 1890s.   Stores must occupy the empty old stores....and anyone known to be a gossip and who has relatives who are gossips must be confined." He paused and shook his head.  "How, I don't know."  

He continued. "Phones ripped out, Facebook and such shut down...secrecy is the key. Boys?  You wanta help or be locked up in the old boarded up classroom out in the dusty school?"

The town without the gossipy group threw muscle into renewal.  Quilts were ordered from China, tags removed, with new tags added "Hand-sewn by Louisa May Smith".  Rusty tools and blacksmith shop were restored.  Jars and jars of jams, preserves, and candles were ordered.  The labels were stripped off, and new ones put on:  Mrs. Nefer's Homemade.... My...Oh, the work. Nefarious appeared to be frozen in the late 1800s.

The gossipy type were sent on a 21 day cruise to Hawaii on the Holland American vee Dam. 

Finally, the paleontologists were summoned.  Two wise men, then four, then more:  all agreed that this was the biggest titanoba ever found, and joy overflowed as they walked down the creek bed.

A lackadaisical bearded old man was paid to sit in an old chair with his feet propped up on the sidewalk railing.  Curious tourists with full shopping bags asked him how long had he been there.
"Heck if I know,"  he answered and then aimed some tobacco spit at the nearby spittoon.  Sometime he hit the mark, sometimes he did not.  All went well in Nefarious here on out.

Please forgive me for assigning Idaho, Wyoming, Montana to the town Nefarious I actually think there are some others, but they might be in Pennsylvania.

This is a repost of Wednesday Words given as a challenge for bloggers to shake up their writing, to take a break from WIPs, try different genre.  A dear Blogger, Delores, started this challenge a few years back, passing the baton onto other talented bloggers. 

P.S. We visited Branson, MO, a few years ago.  Branson is famous for its quilts and homey products, I was eager to look at them.  They were lovely, but when I looked for the source, I found a tag, "Made in China".  Then I saw a sign which read, "Homey Quilts, made by Branson designs."

Disillusionment.

Small Shrines

Farmers walked along this land.

European countries with such centuries of history have, by sheer time, amassed incredible buildings, structures, monuments, and fountains that shout to the visitor:  “I have been here longer than you can imagine!" 

Shrines to the past stand tall, but most visitors do not know what they memorialize. Tourists are there to see, but not to learn. They suffer from camera overload:  so many photo opportunities stand that it is overwhelming to pick and choose. They may try, but there are too many places and things.

We have traveled to Switzerland every summer since 2013. When our daughter gave us a grandson, we hungered to hold him and see him grow. Each time, he taller and soon he was taking us on big adventures of his own making. Now we have his little brother to enjoy.

On the way back to our rented apartment, on the right, each day we passed by a cemetery where tombstones were also made.  On the left, we traveled by clearly ignored shrines of their own, clustered together.

Unlike the grand shrines of historical figures, these shrines require abstract thinking.

I labeled this post "Small Shrines".  

These are stone watering troughs from old farmlands, gathered together  to share the history of the farmers.

An old English telephone booth without its glass, has no phones where a plant had grown. It was there on purpose, I hope.

Each day we walked along the river.

A tree leans along the Aure River, hanging on with its roots until the next snow-melt flood

Sometimes the Small Shrines speak the loudest.
Sometimes one has walk along a river.

Sometimes one has to search for them and sometimes one has

to look to the left.

A Sober St. Patrick's Day?

1907 St. Patrick's Day Parade in Ireland

Today is St. Patrick’s Day.  For some Americans, it is an excuse to get rip-roaring drunk.  Given that a high percentage of those vomiting in some toilet or alley way are in their early twenties (or younger), I think back to times in Ireland when St. Patrick’s Day was considered a Holy Day. 

The Catholic Church and the tourism officials have vacillated on this issue (“Yes: hoist the pint! or No: you can wait till after Lent.) The Irish-Americans held the first St. Patrick’s Day Parade in Manhattan in 1848, while the Irish celebrated with a parade in 1903.

It comes down to politics, really. Until the 70s, there was a ban on selling in pubs on March 17.  In 1995, the tourist industry saw new opportunities to throw open the pub doors for visitors and residents alike.

Many in Ireland observe March 17 as a Holy Day; it falls during Lent and should be give respect.

If I see one more shirt exalting the Irish and its drinking, I will also find a toilet or alley way.

Get your Irish on

I'm Irish and I love it!

Everyone is Irish!

Cross-walk Drama

Source: Boston Discovery Guide

Ducklings crossing the road in Boston was written into an old children’s book:  Make Way for Ducklings.  But this post is a reverse, different setting, and with people.

Picture this:  a crosswalk two blocks away from DisneyLand (happiest place on Earth!) and a family of parents and four offspring.  Happiness was evident.  The parents were in the back, laughing and enjoying mild sunshine in Anaheim.  The youngest child (8 yrs.?) pranced in excitement: Oh-boy-oh-boy-oh-boy….

The next two were sisters (10-12 yrs?) who were giggling and whispering, but it was not clear at whom their giggles were aimed.

Then at the front of the crosswalk family was the source of giggles and whispers:  The 17 yr. old (maybe 16 yrs.) was walking a good six feet ahead of her rag-tag family.  Her clenched jaw, clenched fists, and tight face said so much.  Her thoughts:

OMG…I can’t believe those are my family.  I mean, like, look at them!  Like, you know, dressing like they are, OMG, TOURISTS! 

Just one look at her and surely everyone could see what she wanted to wear:  high-very high-heeled sandals, straps around the ankles; short, very short, and very tight red shorts (good grief!); and, then a tee-shirt that matched the rest of the family’s shirts.  Her thoughts:

OMG!  A TEE-SHIRT?  A tee-shirt?  Like, you know, anyone would ever ever wear “I’m from Idaho!”  What was wrong with the sick hot top Belinda and I found on-line?  Sassy spaghetti straps—what’s wrong with that??  And the mid-riff?  Everyone I know wears mid-riffs!  The sequins?  So what if they spelled out: PUSSY CAT . I love cats, everyone knows that!  Just wait, Mom, you turn your back one second and I am gone.  Away from you hicks.

What was Mom thinking:

Yeah, Missy…you may think you can escape, but I know you.  And, why do you think I let you wear those ridiculous sandals?  To look good?  No, to hobble you while you think you look hot.  The red shorts?  Sunburn always reminds that pride goeth before sitting.

Quack. Quack. Quack.

Keep moving, nothing to see here....

Source: TACLUDA

Setting: New York City on a muggy June day

Characters: Two naïve parents from out-of-state with their much-wiser 30something son

Plot:  Keep your eyes straight ahead; don’t make eye contact

It was a day like any other on the streets in Manhattan.  A tide of humanity streamed both directions, trying to avoid collisions.  Blank eyes on blank faces flowed in multi-colors.  The rules were simple:  don’t make eye contact and don’t react to anything you might see/smell/hear.  Keep moving, nothing to see here.

Source: johnnyberg

It was after such a day that the two simpleton parents from Podunk-ville returned to the Hotel Pennsylvania.  Defeat dogged their steps and their son’s lecture rang in their ears:  Keep moving….

Wikipedia, God bless 'em!

Macy’s was ever-so-close, and at least there they would feel some freedom to look at the merchandise and express emotion.

The ancient escalator from “Miracle on 34^th Street” took them from one floor to the next.  As they started to relax, some teenagers got ahead of them on the few steps up.

Source

The naïve mother found her eyes at butt level with a teenage boy.  Facing his drooping jeans, she read the label on his boxers, which were perilously close to being dragged down by the weight of the jeans.  Oh, God, oh, God…should I yank them the rest of the way?...

Source: The Grio by Anthony Calypso

Keep your eyes straight ahead…but what about “…making butt contact”…?  He/the brilliant son never said anything about that…

The sagging pants phenomena has  always bewildered me.  Go to the listed source for answers, if you have also found yourself staring at boxers in the face.  This site was very good, well written.

I've Been Robbed!

Erin in one of her creations. All her costumes are accurate to the time period.  The skirt alone weighed nearly ten pounds!

Recently, my daughter Erin and family attended the Renaissance Faire near Pasadena, California.  In years past, Erin had been an active member of the Guild which provided an Elizabethan presence, complete with all degrees of nobility.  Normally, Erin and Brian would have been clothed in expensive and accurate costumes she has created over the years.

  

Sunshine's first Faire in her mother's arms

The problems were that Bright Eyes and Sunshine have outgrown their old costumes.

 

Erin, Sunshine, Brian, and Bright Eyes

They went to the Faire as tourists, in shorts and sandals and lathered in sunscreen.  The girls wore tattered fairy wings left over from Halloween, and they had a grand time, the best Erin could remember.  

Freedom from the heavy costumes and the burden of being in character allowed them to explore, experience, run, and play.  

Freedom—aaahhhh.

At the end of the day, they arrived home drenched in sweat and caked in dust-turned-mud.  Erin took the girls in through the garage, stripped them down, and threw the damp clothes straight into the washer.

Bright Eyes is a modest 8 ½ year-old.  She wrapped a large shirt around herself, and ran up to the bath tub. 

But Sunshine, oh 7 year-old Sunshine.  She was born nude and would live her entire life as a nudist, if given the chance.  She stripped down and streaked through the house.  She ran into Daddy at the foot of the stairs, only then realizing that she was naked.

Sunshine smiled big, threw her arms open wide, and exclaimed, “I’ve been robbed!”  Giggling, she raced up the stairs to join her sister in the tub.

Robbed, in deed.

Freedom: aaahhhhhh!