“And when she went to the drugstore to get more aspirin,” Frank said, “they told her she’d already bought the government-set limit for the month. Of course, her husband couldn’t buy it either.”
“Shhh!”
“What’s wrong, Janie?”
“Quiet!”
Outside, a soft drone quickly grew, and the children burst through the back door, screaming.
“Turtles! Turtles!”
“I hear them now,” Frank said.
“Make sure the windows are closed,” Janie said. “I’ll check upstairs.”
Let us tenderly and kindly cherish, therefore, the means of knowledge. Let us dare to read, think, speak, and write.
– John Adams
birthday boy
drives the car
through the frosting
“It is the glorious 4th of July!”
– John Adams
And so it is. Today we celebrate the anniversary of the adoption of the Declaration of Independence.
The Declaration was written by Thomas Jefferson. John Adams had noted Jefferson’s “happy talent for composition” and “remarkable felicity of expression” and assigned the paperwork to him. Unlike young men today, Jefferson protested that he was the junior member of the committee; surely an older, wiser, more experienced man such as Benjamin Franklin or Adams himself should write the crucial paper. Adams responded that anything he wrote would be savaged merely because it came from him. Besides, he told Jefferson, “You write ten times better than I do,” which is something you wouldn’t hear from a lot of older, wiser, more experienced men.
Continue reading “Pen to Paper: The Declaration of Independence”
A reminder from the cat side of Catsignal that some of the joys of Independence Day celebrations are lost on the four-footed set. Study this list of cautions from the ASPCA and keep it holy.
One more important matter the ASPCA doesn’t mention: There’s at least one in every crowd who will attempt to do something “entertaining” yet moronically stupid to your pet, like hold it up by its ears or give it a swig of beer. Also, there are some parents who will let their children pester and persecute an animal and yet be outraged when the pet has finally had enough and protects itself. Keep a careful watch on your furry companion to prevent this sort of lunacy.
“Hi, Daddy!” Five-year-old Jana ran to her father and he scooped her up in a hug.
“Hi, Sweetheart. Did you have a good time at Grandpa and Grandma’s all week?”
“Yeah! We had lots of fun.”
“Good. I’ve been very busy while you’ve been gone. Want to see what I’ve been making?”
“Okay.”
Curtis returned Jana to the floor and led her into the back yard. She saw it instantly.
“A tree house!” She ran over to the tree and clambered up the ladder.
“Tree ‘house’ is right,” Helen said quietly, joining her husband. The new structure faced the family’s home. Part of it was built into the tree, but two sturdy poles provided much of the support.
“There has to be enough room if she ever invites me to a tea party up there,” he explained.
“Oh. Well, that makes perfect sense.” She shook her head and smiled at him. “But given your influence on her, I doubt there will be many tea parties.”
* * *
You can get help from teachers, but you are going to have to learn a lot by yourself, sitting alone in a room.
– Theodor Seuss Geisel
sine wave –
power goes off,
comes on, goes off…
You’ve seen this exchange in movies and TV shows and plays and you’ve read it in books and short stories:
“Oh! Cuthbert!” Margareta exclaimed. “We need help! Quickly! Telephone the authorities!”
“Please, my dear; despite the dreadful circumstances, you must try to calm yourself. Calling the police is exactly what I was about to do.” Cuthbert picked up the handset and listened for the dial tone, but only silence greeted his eagerly waiting ear. He flicked the hook several times in rapid succession but failed utterly to establish a connection. He slowly, deliberately replaced the handset on its cradle. “The storm has knocked out the lines,” he reported grimly. “We’re completely cut off from the outside world.”
The lightning flashed and the thunder crashed as if to underscore Cuthbert’s announcement.
Darla hung her bra on the closet doorknob. She put her arms into her cotton nightshirt, raised it above her head and let it fall down her body.
She paused briefly as she turned back the covers on her side of the bed. Stephen’s pajamas were folded neatly on his side of the bed, not quite touching his pillow. She had washed the bedding a few times since that day when he walked out, but she had been careful to replace his pajamas where he had left them.