Sunday, February 12, 2017

29. Monthly Re-call



“And who is this again?”
          “It’s Dan,” said Walter’s wife, a distant voice next to the phone.
          “Dad, so I was saying,” said Dan, “our two weeks on Sleeping Buffalo Mountain were fantastic. We’ve gotta go back.”
          “What about Margaret; did she like it there too?”
          “Now Dad, you remember that it was just you and me. Mom and Bonnie didn’t want to rough it. You know it was below freezing most of the time we were there.”
          “That’ cold, that’s cold. How did we stay warm?”
          “Dad, the Banff Springs Hotel has everything we could ask for. We spared no expense.”
          “Banff, that’s the Canadian Rockies you know,” interjected his father.
          “That’s right! So, we had a suite of rooms right near the falls. The views were spectacular. But the best part were the hot springs.”
          “We went swimming?”
          “The Radium Hot Springs were wonderful. The water was 100 degrees. We soaked in sulphate, calcium, bicarbonate, silica, and magnesium.”
          “Sounds like a tonic grandma used to get at the druggist. Had to hold our noses to get it down.”
          “More like a gin and tonic they served you pool side.”
          “Hot springs you say? President Delano Roosevelt used to take the waters for his health back in the day. Did him good too.”
          “And you said it made your arthritis feel better, right Dad?”
          “Well, good thing your memory’s a lot better than mine. Kinda forgot that part about floatin around in a spring.”
          “I was just telling that story about how the hotel is haunted to some neighbors across the road.”
          “Yeah, well remind me of it again so I can tell your mother. She’s a bit forgetful.”
          A soft chuckle could be heard in the background in Dan’s ear.
          “The story goes that the hotel is haunted by a bride. She was climbing the grand staircase lined with candles. Her gown caught fire and she fell down the stairs trying to put out the flames.”
          “Poor young thing. Did we see her?”
          “No, but plenty of people claim to see her around the hotel in her beautiful wedding gown or dancing in the ballroom.”
          “Doesn’t sound like a good place to get married now does it?” asked his father.
          “And remember the four days on the Rocky Mountaineer? There were times I couldn’t fathom how that train didn’t go spiraling into space down a mountain side, we were that close to the edge of nothing. Kicking Horse Canyon takes your breath away though, gotta say.”
          “That’s right.”
          “And then Craigellachie, Kamloops and the Fraser River. They get the best salmon from there Dad, don’t they?”
          “Mmm, salmon, one of my favorites. Margaret, what’s for dinner tonight?”
          “And then down to Vancouver to catch a plane back home.”
          “Too bad the girls didn’t come with us. Did they like their souvenirs? We did get em something didn’t we?”
          “Sure we did Dad. They loved their Kabir Kouba moccasins with the bead work and fur around the top from the Banff Indian Trading Post. And our moose hide moccs are in the mail. We had to special order them.”
          “That’s alright then. We sure did have a grand time.”
          ‘Yes we did Dad. I sure enjoy our trips we go off on together. Well, call you soon; give Mom my love.”
          “Sure will, son, sure will. Bye.”
          Dan ended the call and turned from his laptop when his wife entered the room.
          “Did your Dad enjoy the trip?”
          “He always does,” said Dan with a smile.
          “Where you going next month?” she asked.
          Dan deleted the Banff TripAdvisor website extolling 99 reasons to visit Banff. He typed in a new location.
          “Next month we’re going to Italy.”


 (620 words)

Friday, February 10, 2017

28. A Play and Words

Anne Kingsbury
                             

“Linda!  I’m so surprised to see you here.  We keep running into each other lately,” said Lorraine as they air-kissed each other’s cheeks.
“Yes, I must be intuiting your whereabouts.  I’ve always thought that I was a bit psychotic,” said Linda fluffing up her faux fur wrap.
“More than most people I know.  Did you enjoy the show?”
“Oh yes, very much.  I just love the theater.  And Shakespeare.  “The Tempest” certainly has its share of twists.  But someone with my background doesn’t have trouble following along.  After all, I was a showgirl for years.”
“They don’t call you a ‘thes’pian for nothing!”
“Thanks!  And did you like it?”
“Oh yes, “ said Lorraine smoothing back her favorite wig.  “Stories based on magic are so entertaining.  There’s no end to the possibilities for plot development.”
“Yes, and it sure can take the story in all sorts of directions,” said Linda, wagging her finger in the air.  “That smart Bill Shakespeare was some impertinent thinker.  Who would believe he didn’t go past grammar school?”
“I do love a comedy,” said Lorraine.  “I just love a good opportunity to laugh.”
“And it’s obvious you laugh a lot by those puckers by your eyes and the smile corrugations alongside your mouth.  It suits you,” said Linda.
“Oh, huh, mmm,” said Lorraine as she patted her face with her fingertips.
“Too bad there was only one woman in the whole play,” said Linda.
“The actress who played Miranda portrayed her as such a sweet girl.  She didn’t seem to have much in the way of smarts though,” said Lorraine with an emphatic nod at Linda.
“And Ariel, Prospero’s familiar spirit just fascinated me.  I’m a maniac for nymphs.”
“I don’t doubt it. Who could blame you?” said Lorraine with a laugh.  “Did you notice the little mistake they made on stage?”
“No, what?” asked Linda.
“The props manager goofed in the scene where Ferdinand and Miranda are supposed to be playing chess.  I could see that it was a set of checkers.”

“Oh, a little malapropism never hurt anybody!”

(351 words)

27. Wabi Sabi



            “Honeybear,” cooed Marina Elliott to the small, bedraggled cat standing on the back steps of the house.
            “Honeybear, I’ve got mushies for you, the kind you like.”
            The cat kept her distance, making short plaintive meows. Her face was pinched and projected distress.
            This little grimalkin suffers, thought Marina. She noted a bony appearance, a weathered coat, and that her right eye had a silver circular covering descending from the upper lid. The cat wolfed the canned cat food as Marina watched just out of reach. The cat shivered. Winter had already frozen the ground.
            A flat box was delivered the next day. Marina was not the only animal lover in the household. Her son, Josh, had ordered an outdoor ho27  Wabi Sabiuse for outdoor cats online. She assembled a cat shelter with tent-like walls that velcroed together and a roof that zippered on. Marina fitted thick Styrofoam inside the walls and roof. The best part of the nestinghouse, as she referred to it, was that it came with a heating pad inside a cushion for the cat to rest upon. An insulated cord would be plugged into the outlet in the garage.
            The nestinghouse was placed atop two stacked, slatted wooden frames to keep it from the damp ground. It looked like a wrap-around porch. A round resin picnic table was positioned over it for added protection. Food placed in the house enticed Honeybear inside. It didn’t take long for her to discover the warmth provided. Marina sewed two wool scarves into a circle wide enough to curve around the little cat’s body and placed it on her warm bed. Success. Until it snowed.
            Honeybear’s ears curled around the edges.  Marina’s husband, Pete, noticed that the cat’s tail appeared to be frozen half way from the end. It was coated with ice. Marina grabbed an old towel and plucked Honeybear out of the snow. She seemed too cold and miserable to protest. Pete and Josh prepared the old puppy training crate in the kitchen next to the radiator. Honeybear was placed inside with all of the amenities.
            She did not resist capture but set to eating the cat food immediately. Marina made chicken soup with a chicken neck, giblets, and herbs. She knew that parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme were the musical equivalent of low-level antibiotics. Honeybear consumed three doses over the next two days.
Marina placed her back outside when the snowfall had melted and noticed a change. Honeybear’s agonized expression had softened. Her eyes gazed at Marina with a calm aspect, no twisted brow, but now a smooth furry feline face. She sat on her porch before disappearing to conduct a perimeter check of her garden. Marina felt confident that she could bring Honeybear indoors for a warm when the temperatures were freezing whenever necessary.

The beneficial effect of practicing wabi sabi is the satisfaction akin to joy when something old and worn is preserved, and valued.  

(490 words)