Tag: Beloved yet Quaint

And the sun is setting low…Thank God I’m a country boy …(John Denver)…

So that it has been written, so let it be done… Those poor local cops, scratching their heads…the good folk of the town wanted more…more explanations, more dirty laundry now  that Misfit Molly had left them a treasure trove of information…like everyone, end of day, wondered…had their names made it in the journals? Had she found out about the time…..??? You know what I mean….

The consensus was no one should be charged for a harmless hobby….well except the Judge who put away someone’s son, father, cousin nephew or friend on trumped-up charges….did not even keep him local but sent him off to a tough provincial prison where you are lucky to get out with your life…now that was a chargeable offense,

And what about the Organ Lady? Sometimes in life, especially if your country born and bred,( like for the last eight generations), you stumble upon deep, dark secrets which never should see the light of day… like the Organ Lady who righteously played the organ in the local ‘All ye who are sinners‘ church, must be going on forty years now… so high and mighty, if a farmer would cuss in front of her she would slay him with a haughty look and put him on her naughty list……telling anyone who would listen that he was uncouth, past redemption, Amen! Shoe was on the other foot now…

That being said, Misfit Molly had plenty to say about the Organ Lady in those volumes of journals….Seemed all these years, the Organ Lady had been stepping out, with a married man…with children. Like a Satellite, outside human command, Misfit Molly recorded all activities, benign or toxic and ‘Let the Good Lord Sort It Out.’ Let’s see the Organ Lady in Court for Perjury, pretending to be a Vestal Virgin (a stretch, but did she not break an adultery commandment?)  Nah, it was decided that would be vindictive…she’ll have to face St. Peter at the Pearly Gates soon enough…now was a good time to start working on cleaning up her act.

Scrying in some form (like gossiping) had been going on in that area since Moses was a pup.  Yet no money changed hands…and it is not like they killed people although sometimes they foresaw dark shadow gather over certain unfortunates.  Darned if there was any criminal activity in a hobby that predicted such mundane things as a good crop one year and a bust the next.

That left the Judge to stand alone, much like the Cheese in the Farmer in the Dell.  And so it was that a Grand Jury was convened by a recruited city-slicker (Gasp) Lady Prosecutor, with no skin in the game, so-to-speak, that had never stepped foot in the county or even the country side before.

There were many outstanding citizens (whose names so far had not surfaced in Misfit Molly’s journals)  who volunteered their services to be part of the panel, just to hear the lurid details. They swore to decide, based on all evidence, if the Judge, a proud member of the Secret Society of Scryers had actually, in bad faith (or even better a bribe) and without the evidence to support the charge, locked up someone’s son, father, cousin nephew or friend, whether for personal (come election day) or monetary gain.

We got a Prosecutor (even if it is questionable since she was a Lady). Check.  We got a Jury. Check.  We got a questionable abuse of power. Check.

Let the games begin….

Is it too late now to say Sorry? Yeah, I know that I let you down, Is it too late to say I’m Sorry now? (Justin Bieber) Psst…are you a Belieber???

So you know, no secret (except don’t tell Vladimir Putin…well, he probably already knows anyway) but Momma is a Canadian so like Justin Bieber, she is ‘Sorry ’ a lot….she has let your Comments grow, balloon, and fester as she did the  bedside vigil for Little Sister Itty Bitty who miraculously and with the medical intervention of a sleep induced coma in Intensive Care (aka ICU), crawled out of her Alice In Wonderland Rabbit Hole, without even a rabbit to show for it.

I mean Momma was expecting a polka dot, a pink or even a white rabbit but ‘nada.’ Even more frustrating for Detailed Oriented, Analytical Virgo Momma, Itty Bitty does not remember a thing.  Her memory base, like a computer has been scrubbed clean for a two-week period.  Wow, if only poor beleaguered Democrat Candidate Hilary Clinton could get her hands on that technology so her emails would be Gone With the Wind. The Lord Giveth and the Lord Taketh Away…..

But still that greedy Momma wanted to hear when Itty Bitty crashed, had she talked with the Angels…nope, Grandmama or Grandpapa, nope, nope, what about RIP Daddy…did he appear, well no, but sort of in a dream, he had some advice about her wild sugar rides, both of them being diabetic with high and low no medium slow, for those two…and well, everyone knows where RIP Daddy is right now, so probably not best to heed him.

There is so much ground to cover….like the ICU with the I-Got-the-Sickest-Relative-Dance…I mean, not only could one family claim that dubious title, but hands down their whole clan were more dysfunctional with gossip, innuendo, cheating, money grabbing infidels…and they literally moved into the Family Lounge, hogging the telephone (No cells???), taking two chairs each, (the second one for a footstool), grabbing hospital blankets and pillows to sleep overnight.  Their overbearing attitude had no limits. They could not possibly have been Canadian….could they? Like where are the Security Guards when you need them? Even a Been–There–Done–That Momma was agog with each revelation.

And so like a true polite ‘please and thank you, you-are-too-kind Canadian,’  ‘Sorry’….I ignored your Comments but the train is back on the track, even if Itty Bitty is still wandering around in the woods…Still, Momma, always the Optimist is thinking everything will all be back on schedule sometime soon, like Ma & Pa Kettle: ‘When we get round to it.’

Truth be told and pass the biscuits, it is a true blessing to be born in the country, Momma says, because you get up close and personal with characters, shysters, saints, oh, and the Holy Rollers. Do they actually roll or are you pulling my tail, Momma…..again?

And then there was the Who-Knew-the-Truth Family that just seemed to have appeared on the doorstep one day, set up camp and then just disappeared, like thieves in the night.  There was a Mr. & Mrs. Who-Knew-the-Truth and supposedly three children, straight off the boat from England, they said, they did, but the eldest sibling, Ms. Cagey looked the age of the Mrs. and dressed decidedly provocatively for small town living, where bosoms were kept covered in loose, not tight-fitting Hollywood Marilyn Munroe attire.  Although no birth certificate or passport could be produced, she was enrolled in the local high school where the male teachers, as if hypnotized, drawn like moths to the flame, gazed at what filled her endless low-cut, tight sweaters.  The good news was that the younger brother and sister acted age appropriate and slipped in to the community seamlessly, making friends easily.

No, Momma, said, it was Mr. & Mrs. Who-Knew-the-Truth & Ms. Cagey who got the tongues a wagging because if you asked them where they were from (it wasn’t considered offensive in those days), each one told a different story….they were right from England, they were living in Montreal but got wary of city life, they had been living in the islands.  One thing true, they sounded like they were straight from England, Do not Pass GO, do not collect $200.00.

The next question in everyone’s mind was how come the little sister and brother looked like Ms. Cagey (all brown eyes, black hair) but none of these three children resembled Mr. & Mrs. Who-Knew-the-Truth, who both who had blue eyes and blonde hair.  Some hanky-panky going on or maybe aliens spying on us, getting the lay of the land, so to speak, thinking country folk not sharp enough to notice and question every detail, ad nauseum.

Still, give them props, they were a hardworking, enterprising lot who approached school board about a school that was vacant…so many rooms, perfect to make a hotel, add a bar and a restaurant and you are in business. No kidding, the hardest working was Ms. Cagey, changing beds, serving in the dining rooms and the bar (huh, I thought there was a law against 15-year-old kids serving drinks, am I right Momma?  Well, just don’t get caught.  You know we lived in the land of the local law enforcement sentiment of see no evil, hear no evil, so it was all good.

But one day, cross my heart and hope to die, the country folk woke up and Mr. & Mrs. Who-Knew-the-Truth, Ms. Cagey plus Lil Bro and Sis were just… gone…just gone, no explanation.  The hotel doors were open, everything left neat and tidy, like a major housekeeping had just been completed. The lights were on…but they weren’t home.

Did they flee in the middle of the night?Were they kidnapped? Did the Mothership come down and whisk them away? Will we ever know?  Every time you see distance light, think of  Mr. & Mrs. Who-Knew-the-Truth, Ms. Cagey plus Lil Bro and Sis…There out  there…maybe coming to a town near you….anytime…. soon.