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R. Linda:
Before me broken leg from auto accident, I had made a small veggie garden in the back so I could grow fresh carrots, turnips, peas and potatoes for me sainted mam's Irish stew recipe. I did not raise a sheep for it I will admit that. I would name the thing Baabara and well, I be too soft of heart to have it killed just for stew meat (I be no chef Ramsey), so I would cheat when the time came and buy lamb meat.
So as I be recuperating with the leg in a cast, I'd sit on me porch and moan about the weeds cropping up in me garden. Bemoaning me wee veggie sprouts fate for me not to be able to go out there and pluck every single invader, thus insuring the sprouts could flourish for me stew. Me wife got tired of listening to me whine, so she went out with the Airport and together they took up the weeding under me supervision from the porch. They did a bang up job, probably better than yours truly would have done, and with two of them in no time done, done, done.
Once I was able to hobble around on crutches I made me way to the edge of the garden and talked to me wee seedlings and encouraged their upright movement toward the sun, and told them how proud I'd be if they'd plump up just for me. This seemed to work, because me garden by summer's end was overgrown to capacity with veggies. I had more carrots than I'd ever imagined in particular, and the turnips, my, my, but what beauties in abundance.
Me wife would take all the credit of course for this, because she and the eldest child weeded the patch of garden and made sure it was watered daily, but I told her it was me pep talks that were responsible. She suggested I sell some of what we could not eat, and I thought that a great idea, like a lemonade stand. No, she said, she'd put a small table out there with the veggies spread on them and a jar, where people could 'donate' what they thought fair. I thought to meself she was right, I couldn't just sit there all day with me leg up and me crutches cocked against a lawn chair, I'd look like a charity case, so I told her if she would set it up, she and the Airport (for all their work) could have the proceeds. No, she said, it was me garden, I should get the spoils, she wouldn't hear of it. So I thought to meself, if I make a few dollars I'll treat meself to a six pack of beer and take the family for ice cream or whatever they'd like.
I taped a label to the old mason jar that read: Beer Money. Tonya clucked her tongue at me for that, but put it out there with the display of me fine veggies.
We heard cars stop and mostly they were me neighbours doing a good turn by taking a few greens and leaving me cash in the beer money jar. I saw I had $12.00 and I thought I should take that in, but in case someone needed change, I left it there. We took me off to the doctors for checkup and when we came back, the money was gone! Some hooligan made off with me beer money. I was livid.
I hobbled around the table cursing up a storm, Tonya had grabbed hold the Airport's ears and was pushing him inside the house, then she came back to the car and pulled the carrier out with the littlest O'Sullivan and inside the house she went, shutting the door, then the windows slamming shut one by one to keep out me obscenities from small ears.
I pushed the table over and balancing on me one leg and crutches, used me cast to boot the fallen greens out onto the road. I was hopping mad. I must have been a sight, a tall, skinny, cast leg and crutches wielding Irishman, whipping veggies into the road in a flurry of anger.
Me flasher neighbour heard me commotion and came over to see what had me. She thought I was being attacked by bees and was swatting me in the head with her hat, and for sure there was a bee that was buzzing around, and this is what she mistook for an entire hive. I was fighting her off the best I could with one leg and one crutch, the other crutch fallen out of me grasp when the first swipe to me head with the hat had befallen me unfortunate and surprised person.
Me wife stood in the window holding the baby, the Airport standing next to her, his fingers in his mouth aghast at what was going on with his father and the odd neighbour woman. They made no move to help me because they were stunned, but not as stunned as I was, when me neighbour from below rushed up and shouted, "Bees? Is he besieged with bees? My bees?" And there he was with his smoker, aiming it at me face, which with all the hoping and slapping, got me to sneezing. I couldn't believe it.
Finally, me wife came rushing out with the babe in arms, the Airport on her heels, tugging at her skirt and crying in fright of the scene she was rushing into.
Needless to say, I was exhausted from the siege to me broken self. I lost me balance as the bee stung me, and grabbing hold of anything to keep from falling, I had held tight to the flasher, and over backwards we went into the table, her atop me. I was almost crushed from the weight of her, me wife trying to pull her off me, the neighbour forgetting to put down the smoker had it in me face as he tried to disentangle the flasher from yours truly who was sneezing up a storm. Me cast leg was aching but I had somehow managed not to do further damage. I had not a few cuts from that hat hitting me face, and quite a bee sting from a very angry single bee, who for some reason, took the assault out on me forehead. Me neighbour from below was very apologetic, but not the flasher, she thought she had saved me!
It wasn't until two days later, me neighbour from below came up to ask me what all the commotion was about in the first place. I told him of me anger about the money and he tsked and shook his head in commiseration, that you couldn't trust people nowadays and off he went mumbling about teenage hooligans. I stood there watching him go, me ribs arching from where the flasher had almost knocked the wind out of me a few days earlier. I looked up to see her bicycling by waving at me with a wink. I felt me forehead where the bee sting still stood out like a huge frost heave.
I made it me business to stay inside from that day on. Safer that way and no more good turns, you get beat up and robbed blind from that sort of thing!
Gabe
Copyright © 2009 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Before me broken leg from auto accident, I had made a small veggie garden in the back so I could grow fresh carrots, turnips, peas and potatoes for me sainted mam's Irish stew recipe. I did not raise a sheep for it I will admit that. I would name the thing Baabara and well, I be too soft of heart to have it killed just for stew meat (I be no chef Ramsey), so I would cheat when the time came and buy lamb meat.
So as I be recuperating with the leg in a cast, I'd sit on me porch and moan about the weeds cropping up in me garden. Bemoaning me wee veggie sprouts fate for me not to be able to go out there and pluck every single invader, thus insuring the sprouts could flourish for me stew. Me wife got tired of listening to me whine, so she went out with the Airport and together they took up the weeding under me supervision from the porch. They did a bang up job, probably better than yours truly would have done, and with two of them in no time done, done, done.
Once I was able to hobble around on crutches I made me way to the edge of the garden and talked to me wee seedlings and encouraged their upright movement toward the sun, and told them how proud I'd be if they'd plump up just for me. This seemed to work, because me garden by summer's end was overgrown to capacity with veggies. I had more carrots than I'd ever imagined in particular, and the turnips, my, my, but what beauties in abundance.
Me wife would take all the credit of course for this, because she and the eldest child weeded the patch of garden and made sure it was watered daily, but I told her it was me pep talks that were responsible. She suggested I sell some of what we could not eat, and I thought that a great idea, like a lemonade stand. No, she said, she'd put a small table out there with the veggies spread on them and a jar, where people could 'donate' what they thought fair. I thought to meself she was right, I couldn't just sit there all day with me leg up and me crutches cocked against a lawn chair, I'd look like a charity case, so I told her if she would set it up, she and the Airport (for all their work) could have the proceeds. No, she said, it was me garden, I should get the spoils, she wouldn't hear of it. So I thought to meself, if I make a few dollars I'll treat meself to a six pack of beer and take the family for ice cream or whatever they'd like.
I taped a label to the old mason jar that read: Beer Money. Tonya clucked her tongue at me for that, but put it out there with the display of me fine veggies.
We heard cars stop and mostly they were me neighbours doing a good turn by taking a few greens and leaving me cash in the beer money jar. I saw I had $12.00 and I thought I should take that in, but in case someone needed change, I left it there. We took me off to the doctors for checkup and when we came back, the money was gone! Some hooligan made off with me beer money. I was livid.
I hobbled around the table cursing up a storm, Tonya had grabbed hold the Airport's ears and was pushing him inside the house, then she came back to the car and pulled the carrier out with the littlest O'Sullivan and inside the house she went, shutting the door, then the windows slamming shut one by one to keep out me obscenities from small ears.
I pushed the table over and balancing on me one leg and crutches, used me cast to boot the fallen greens out onto the road. I was hopping mad. I must have been a sight, a tall, skinny, cast leg and crutches wielding Irishman, whipping veggies into the road in a flurry of anger.
Me flasher neighbour heard me commotion and came over to see what had me. She thought I was being attacked by bees and was swatting me in the head with her hat, and for sure there was a bee that was buzzing around, and this is what she mistook for an entire hive. I was fighting her off the best I could with one leg and one crutch, the other crutch fallen out of me grasp when the first swipe to me head with the hat had befallen me unfortunate and surprised person.
Me wife stood in the window holding the baby, the Airport standing next to her, his fingers in his mouth aghast at what was going on with his father and the odd neighbour woman. They made no move to help me because they were stunned, but not as stunned as I was, when me neighbour from below rushed up and shouted, "Bees? Is he besieged with bees? My bees?" And there he was with his smoker, aiming it at me face, which with all the hoping and slapping, got me to sneezing. I couldn't believe it.
Finally, me wife came rushing out with the babe in arms, the Airport on her heels, tugging at her skirt and crying in fright of the scene she was rushing into.
Needless to say, I was exhausted from the siege to me broken self. I lost me balance as the bee stung me, and grabbing hold of anything to keep from falling, I had held tight to the flasher, and over backwards we went into the table, her atop me. I was almost crushed from the weight of her, me wife trying to pull her off me, the neighbour forgetting to put down the smoker had it in me face as he tried to disentangle the flasher from yours truly who was sneezing up a storm. Me cast leg was aching but I had somehow managed not to do further damage. I had not a few cuts from that hat hitting me face, and quite a bee sting from a very angry single bee, who for some reason, took the assault out on me forehead. Me neighbour from below was very apologetic, but not the flasher, she thought she had saved me!
It wasn't until two days later, me neighbour from below came up to ask me what all the commotion was about in the first place. I told him of me anger about the money and he tsked and shook his head in commiseration, that you couldn't trust people nowadays and off he went mumbling about teenage hooligans. I stood there watching him go, me ribs arching from where the flasher had almost knocked the wind out of me a few days earlier. I looked up to see her bicycling by waving at me with a wink. I felt me forehead where the bee sting still stood out like a huge frost heave.
I made it me business to stay inside from that day on. Safer that way and no more good turns, you get beat up and robbed blind from that sort of thing!
Gabe
Copyright © 2009 All rights reserved
