Happy Birthday to Me!

Today was my birthday and I had a lovely day.  Not only did the weather cooperate so that my

walk was a real pleasure but I got cards in the mail, singing phone calls, and even got to visit DS, LC, and OJ for a little while before their bedtime.  An excellent day in this very strange year.

The Black-eyed Susan's are putting on a nice show on the side of the house.  

There are a lot of little white moths fluttering around lately.  I managed to sneak up on one as it visited the zinnias and get a photo.

1 September--Barbara Malcolm, Better Than Mom's. 

.  Now the diner was in shambles and Naomi did not know if Brady had insurance or enough money or even the will to clean up the mess and get back to business.  It would be just her luck if he lost heart and locked the place now that she had finally found a job that was exactly what she had been looking for for nearly ten years.  Now that Marcus was doing better in school and working a couple of evenings a week busing here, bringing in a little pocket money, and was an all around happier young man, now there has to be this catastrophe that had the potential to totally destroy their little bubble of hope.  Tears welled up and she blinked to keep them from falling, sniffling, and trying without too much success to stop feeling sorry for herself. 

“I did not think chopping onions made you cry,” Fay said as she came in the back door from taping a sign on the front of the building saying they were closed.  She was a bit grumpy from having to fight with Officer Davies to get close enough to put the danged thing up. 

“It is not the onions, Fay, it is that mess out there and the fact that I do not want to lose this job now that I have finally found it.”  

“You think Brady will just give up?” 

Naomi shrugged, unable to say more, unwilling to verbalize her fears in case that would make them come true. 

“Not our Brady.  He is a tough old bird, he is ex-navy you know.  Those guys just do not know the meaning of the words give up.  He will not go down without a fight.” 

She nodded her head, agreeing with her own words, then she snuck a glance at Officer Bates slowly working his way from one end of the diner to the other, sifting through the mixture of coffee grounds, dirt, and spilled liquids.  “You think Officer Bates is married?” she said over her shoulder.

 “Do not tell me you think he is cute?” Naomi said with a laugh. 

“He is not bad,” said Fay with a shrug, “he’s kind of scrawny, and I usually go for the beefier type, but he has a good job and I will bet he is not addicted to playing pool. He looks to me like a man who would treat a lady with some respect.” 

Naomi got the giggles.  Fay frowned at her.  “What are you laughing at?” 

“Just the picture of you and Officer Norman Bates, two scarecrows, out on a date.”  Her giggles turned to chuckles.  “Or better still, you and him all tangled up between the sheets looking like a handful of toothpicks wrapped in a napkin.”  Naomi had to stop chopping, she was laughing so hard she was in danger of cutting off a finger. 

“Oh, shut up.”  Fay tried to look angry, but Naomi’s laugh was so contagious, she could not help but laugh too.  They stood in the kitchen under the glare of the florescent light laughing like a couple of hyenas. 

Brady poked his head out of his office and Officer Bates looked in through the swinging door.  “What is with you two?” Brady asked. 

Naomi stopped laughing on a breath and shook her head, wiping the tears streaming down her cheeks.

Fay looked at Brady and said, “Reaction to the shock of the day.” 

Which threatened to start them off again.  Both of the women managed to keep a straight face until the men went back to their respective jobs. 

Fay leaned on Naomi’s shoulder and they both sighed at the touch.  “We need to get lives,” she said. 

“Amen, sister, amen,” was Naomi’s reply. 

Today's toss was another crate of canning jars for DS and DIL1.  Now all I have left are quarts, which she doesn't want, and a few jelly jars.  Of course that doesn't mean that the basement is empty, not by a long shot, just that the sorting of the canning jars is complete.  I did run across a box of six half-gallon caning jars.  I don't know where they came from or who bought them.  Not me.  And who has a canning kettle big enough?

--Barbara