Microfiction Monday #69: Too late?

Welcome friends...thanks for coming by. We're seeking beauty in all of creation... in our faith and our families; our art and our music; our crafts and kitchens, and even in our own backyard. We'll share a poem or a recipe, a picture or a memory; maybe a dream of how we wish our life could be. And though we acknowledge that the world can be harsh, we're keeping it pleasant in our little corner; endeavoring to keep the words from the Book of all Books: ...Whatsoever things are lovely; think on these things.

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Photo: Bee and thistle: Taken high in the Cascade Mountains where there is a bee buzzing on every thistle. by Debora Rorvig

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Microfiction Monday #69: Too late?

His note read, "Let's elope. Meet me under the old clock in front of the courthouse at 2:30 today."
Now he waited anxiously beneath the clock. It was 2:33...

Microfiction Monday is hosted by Stony River; You look at the picture and try to write a little vignette for it in 140 characters or less. Lots of fun! http://www.stonyriver.ie/

15 comments:

Sylvia K said...: Oh, a nervous wait for sure! Great take on the pic of the day, Debora! Always fun to see another from Washington! Hope you have a wonderful week!

Sylvia; February 6, 2011 at 8:49 PM
Rinkly Rimes said...: You expressed the tension in so few words. (Our ideas were similar.); February 6, 2011 at 9:18 PM
indicaspecies said...: Time certainly does not fly under such circumstances.
Lovely story.; February 7, 2011 at 3:10 AM
Diane said...: Will she show up??? Aaarrgh! :O); February 7, 2011 at 4:32 AM
Diane said...: I tried to follow your blog but you don't have a Google Friend Connect. :O(; February 7, 2011 at 4:34 AM
Doctor FTSE said...: She can hope the clock is fast! Clever interpretation of the prompt.; February 7, 2011 at 5:25 AM
Cad said...: He's a rotter if he doesn't show!; February 7, 2011 at 7:10 AM
Anonymous said...: I thought of something similar when I noticed the time...but went with the OCD in me that kicked in as I looked more and more at the picture. I hope your bride arrives in time!; February 7, 2011 at 9:53 AM
septembermom said...: Hope it works out!; February 7, 2011 at 11:34 AM
hope said...: Hope the town only has one clock! :)

Then again if she's worth the wait....; February 7, 2011 at 3:05 PM
Anonymous said...: Sweet! What a fun idea. Love your quick take on the photo.; February 7, 2011 at 4:29 PM
Susan Fobes said...: I was thinking romance too! Good one.; February 7, 2011 at 4:48 PM
Elizabeth Mueller said...: Oh, poor guy! I hope he brought his cell with him!

♥.•*¨ Elizabeth ¨*•.♥; February 7, 2011 at 7:43 PM
Melanie Sherman said...: For crying out loud. If he can't wait three lousy minutes...I had to put on my make-up, ya know?; February 7, 2011 at 8:46 PM
Vicki said...: AWWWW... the emotion this envokes. I would hate to be in that situation.; February 7, 2011 at 9:59 PM

I Am From

I Am From...

by Debora Rorvig

I am from a lumber mill worker’s company house
with peeling paint and a sidewalk made of two by fours.
From faded flannel shirts that smell of pine and cedar boughs.

I am from Mason Jars of homed-canned pears,
from Dairygold milk with cream on top
in bottles on the porch.

I am from a garden plot with rows and rows of golden corn
that always wanted hoeing,
and from atop the highest branches of the Gravenstein apple tree in the Attolini’s orchard-
with apple juice dripping from my chin.

I am from saurkraut and wooden shoes-
the Millers and the Youngedykes,
and from the lively Scottish clan
who wear the McKinnon tartan.

From farmers and woodsmen
plain folk all,
who’s hands were calloused hard
but who’s hearts were tender-soft.

I am from ‘what will the neighbors think’
and ‘if you can’t say something nice,
don’t say anything at all.’

From saints and sinners who didn’t see eye to eye
but loved each other anyway,
and in their own way.

I am from the Western shores of Washington
strewn with agates, kelp and driftwood,
from Steelhead salmon, salty smoked
and chowder made from clams we dug
at Semiahmoo spit.

I am from my mother Ruby,
who taught me how to sew
on the old Singer treadle machine;
and told me all about my heritage.

And from my daddy, Raymond Claude
who took me nightcrawler hunting in the moonlight
and showed me how to bait my hook
and fish along the Nooksack River’s edge.

I am from an ancient, tattered Holy Bible kept safely on the upper shelf
with pictures of Jesus Christ
and a letter edged in black- carefully tucked inside.
There are births and deaths recorded there,
and a poem by great- great grandfather Alexander Laughlin Mckinnon
who I never met--and yet I know him
better than some I’ve met.

Precious is that Book to me.

And that is where I am from.

My Life List

*Seek first the Kingdom
*Never stop dreaming
*Make a difference in my students' lives
*Create alternate streams of income to fund my goals
*Dress with flair
*Master virbrato on my violin
*Try cross country skiing in Eastern Washington
*Lose those extra pounds and be healthy
*Be more active in my church
*Stop fearing things, people and confrontation; say what I think
*Stop Hurrying
*Inspire my grandchildren
*Own a Cottage on the Beach
*Live the Word
*Memorize the Book of Hebrews
*Find the perfect hairdo
*Be myself
*Look up old friends and make new ones
*Remodel the kitchen and bathroom
*Make my garden lovely
*Sleep under the stars in the desert and hear coyotes howl
*Write and publish a book(s)
*Travel toRio de Janiero, Cape Breton, South of France, Italy,Scotland, Wales, UK, Ireland, Norway, Turks & Caicos, New York City and the Eastern Seaboard; The Deep South, Africa

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Microfiction Monday #69: Too late?

15 comments:

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