friends’ deck —
birds and squirrels
vie for the feeders
Month: March 2010
OT: Easter Basket
Is it just me, or is there something about a military-themed Easter basket, available at a big box retailer, that entirely — even willfully — misses the point?
Fiction: The Bird Feeder
Ewen Macklin made a hole in the side of the bag of wild bird seed and put a plastic cup to it to catch what spilled. He filled six such cups and tipped the bag back so no more of the seed would flow. He put the cups into a little basket and headed toward the back door of his home.
Only a couple of years earlier he would have taken the new bag of bird seed outdoors and held it aloft as necessary to fill the feeders. But that time had passed and the cups and basket were a necessary compromise.
“Joy, joy, joy,” he told himself. Macklin was certain this was the last real joy in his life now that age and death had taken the others from him. Feeding the birds — and, by extension, the squirrels — that came to his yard was an unalloyed, unadulterated delight.
It wasn’t until he started back inside after his happy errand that he saw his neighbor, Jon Burtle, staring at him hatefully. His young son, Jon Jr., who was about nine years old, had an identical expression on his face. Macklin ignored them and went in. He had never engaged the family next door in conversation and they had returned the silence. The Burtles’ vile bumper stickers and the political campaign signs they permitted in their yard indicated there would be no meeting of the minds among neighbors, and that was the end of it.
haiku 105
trudging through new snow
to get the mail —
first day of spring
Catsignal Turns 2
Catsignal is two years old today. Like any toddler, it has its ups and downs, its little successes and its little failures. But I’m pleased to still be doing this after two years and to still be enjoying myself.
I hope you’ll help me celebrate by telling someone — a friend, a family member, a word-loving acquaintance — about Catsignal. Now that I have stuff here to read, I’d like to know that more people are reading it. Comments on what works and what doesn’t work in a particular haiku or story are always welcome.
And now, we join our regularly scheduled haiku, already in progress.
The Catsignal’s New Clothes
Getting just a little ahead of catsignal’s second birthday Tuesday, here’s a fashionable new look. I hope you like it.
Fiction: Fair Game
Timmy held perfectly still, trying to ignore the noise around him. He felt the weight of the dart — his final dart — in his hand. He studied his target intently and, almost without volition, let fly. The dart flew the short distance and popped one of the few red balloons.
“Hey! You did it, kid! Good work!” the booth’s worker said. “Name your prize.”
Timmy pointed to a jumbo-sized stuffed bunny — the only purple one — that had pride of place in the balloon booth. The worker smiled as he retrieved it and handed it over. “There you go, kid. Congratulations.”
“Thanks!”
The barker began calling for more players even before Timmy could turn away. “Just had a big winner here! Big winner! You can be next! Step right up! Three darts for a dime!”
Timmy trotted away from the booth, unable to see where he was going for the huge new toy he carried. Heedless of who might be watching he hugged his big rabbit.
haiku 104
chickens fan out
hunting and pecking
as I type
Fiction: The Truth about Daddy
“Mom, we’re in our thirties, now. We’re old enough to hear the truth. Yes, it happened a long time ago, but we want to know the real reason Dad left us.”
Curt nodded to show that his elder sister, Leah, spoke for both of them. “We appreciate that you’ve tried to protect us, and our memories of Dad, but we can’t accept the explanation you’ve always given.”
Margaret looked at them both and sighed. She had known the day would come when they would badger her together rather than separately.
“Fine,” she said. “But I’m going to tell you this story only once. I never want to discuss this again. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” her children said in unison. Continue reading “Fiction: The Truth about Daddy”
haiku 103
watching the dog
watching the possum
playing possum