Post by laurcat on Aug 25, 2012 22:33:59 GMT -5
[glow=red,2,300]This is a place to show everyone just how odd we can be- share your nonsensical tales and read everyone else's. (And wonder how one person could be so weird.) I'll start.[/glow]
My name is Heidi-Anne Franzenbauffen, and I'm ninety-eight years old. You may be wondering how I lived so long, and how I can manage to hold a writing stick steady enough to tell my tale. I'm not really ninety-eight in regular years, but I am in tree bark years.
What in Skipper's spangly city folk jacket are 'tree bark years'?, you may be asking. Well, here in my rural area, we multiply our young ages by seven and get a new number. In tree bark years, I'm ninety-eight, but in regular years, I'm fourteen.
As a skippididee fourteen-year-old with straw-colored hair in ribboned pigtails, I'm naïve and have a lot to learn about life. Who do I learn from? None other than my great, wise, Grandmama.
"Heidi-Anne," my Grandmama began, seated in her creaky old rocking chair on the back porch of our cabin. "Did I ever tell you about the time Billy-Joebob got stuck in the well?"
My blue eyes looked up from the twig I was handling and brightened. "Well I'll be, really?"
"Mm-hmm." Grandmama looked off into the distance, soaking in her old memories. "Bill-Bishkabob was angry at him for stealing his rubber ducky." She smiled at the thought of her two silly brothers quarreling.
"And he pushed him down the well?" Bill-Bishkabob had always been the family troublemaker.
"Mm-hmm. Had dirty water all up in his ears for a week...Had the dirt in them his whole life."
I laughed. "Is there a moral to this story?"
"Always wash your ears."
The back door burst open with one strong shove.
"Hey, you watch that screen, it's done been beat up like your aunt at the dinner table last Christmas." Grandmama called to my brother.
Allen-Joe stood with a pale face and a gaping mouth, ignoring Grandmama. His brown overalls were stained heavily. Must have been rolling around in the dirt again to impress the ladies.
"You won't believe what Lily-Sue MacDonald told me! She says the vamp-eers are coming back tonight!"
But Grandmama only rolled her eyes. "Old MacDonald's farm? I wish you would stop going over there. Of course she thinks that, her father has been trying to convince the town for ages that his animals talk." She whispered under her breath, "What a nutter, I've never heard a hokey-pokey-darn cow say E-I-E-I-O in my life..."
"Allen-Joe only goes over there to see Lily-Sue!" I grinned, receiving a threatening glare and balled fist from my brother.
"Now, now, Allen Joe," Grandmama scolded him, "don't be rilin' up at your sister. Tell us more about the vamp-eers."
Allen-Joe's eyes only grew wider. "She says someone saw the vamp-eers last night- they're coming! I'll collect the sticks!" He made for the ground where I sat.
"No, no, Allen-Joe."
"But Grandmama, we have to protect ourselves!"
"Yes, but why don't we let someone else collect the sticks this time." Grandmama smiled at me.
At first Allen-Joe seemed envious, but then he stood up, attempting to brush off the dirt from his pants. (But was unsuccessful.) "Fine, I guess I can go to Darrel-Bob's cabin and he can take me out for some pig huntin'."
"That boy." Grandmama rolled her eyes once again and turned back to me. "I shall teach you how to collect the sticks." With what seemed to take little effort, Grandmama lifted herself from the cushioned chair and joined me on the ground.
"You will need three sticks. Two shorter ones, preferably of equal length, and one tall one."
I scanned the ground for the perfect sticks. I found two sticks that were about the same size, then scooped a slightly longer one. "Will this do?"
Grandmama smiled. "Splendiddleedee, my dear! On your brother's first try, he took a whole branch and a couple of uneven twigs."
You may think she was exaggerating, but she wasn't. I was there, my brother was tragically dim.
"Now," Grandmama moved on, leading me to the back door, "You will need to place the three sticks near the door. Do you know the order in which you need to prop them up?"
"Yes, Grandmama!" I beamed and set up the tall stick so it leaned against the wall next to the door, then I propped up the shorter sticks so they leaned on either side of it.
It looked somewhat like this: /|\
"How's that? Is this good?" I looked up at Grandmama, who was grinning.
"Perfect! Now if a vamp-eer comes to the door, the sticks will stab at him and drive 'im away!' She exclaimed. "I'll go prepare the front door."
As Grandmama left to shield our fortress further, I grinned to myself. I had learned two things that day- how to protect my home from vamp-eers, and to keep my shinin' ears healthy.
~~~
I actually came up with the tree bark years, storytelling, and 'vamp-eer protection' thing at an outing with my cousin's Girl Scout troop. Me and another girl in her troop had a lot of fun pretending we were weird country people. XD
I will continue this later. XD Now share your weird stories.
My Grandmama's Life Lessons- Part 1
My name is Heidi-Anne Franzenbauffen, and I'm ninety-eight years old. You may be wondering how I lived so long, and how I can manage to hold a writing stick steady enough to tell my tale. I'm not really ninety-eight in regular years, but I am in tree bark years.
What in Skipper's spangly city folk jacket are 'tree bark years'?, you may be asking. Well, here in my rural area, we multiply our young ages by seven and get a new number. In tree bark years, I'm ninety-eight, but in regular years, I'm fourteen.
As a skippididee fourteen-year-old with straw-colored hair in ribboned pigtails, I'm naïve and have a lot to learn about life. Who do I learn from? None other than my great, wise, Grandmama.
"Heidi-Anne," my Grandmama began, seated in her creaky old rocking chair on the back porch of our cabin. "Did I ever tell you about the time Billy-Joebob got stuck in the well?"
My blue eyes looked up from the twig I was handling and brightened. "Well I'll be, really?"
"Mm-hmm." Grandmama looked off into the distance, soaking in her old memories. "Bill-Bishkabob was angry at him for stealing his rubber ducky." She smiled at the thought of her two silly brothers quarreling.
"And he pushed him down the well?" Bill-Bishkabob had always been the family troublemaker.
"Mm-hmm. Had dirty water all up in his ears for a week...Had the dirt in them his whole life."
I laughed. "Is there a moral to this story?"
"Always wash your ears."
The back door burst open with one strong shove.
"Hey, you watch that screen, it's done been beat up like your aunt at the dinner table last Christmas." Grandmama called to my brother.
Allen-Joe stood with a pale face and a gaping mouth, ignoring Grandmama. His brown overalls were stained heavily. Must have been rolling around in the dirt again to impress the ladies.
"You won't believe what Lily-Sue MacDonald told me! She says the vamp-eers are coming back tonight!"
But Grandmama only rolled her eyes. "Old MacDonald's farm? I wish you would stop going over there. Of course she thinks that, her father has been trying to convince the town for ages that his animals talk." She whispered under her breath, "What a nutter, I've never heard a hokey-pokey-darn cow say E-I-E-I-O in my life..."
"Allen-Joe only goes over there to see Lily-Sue!" I grinned, receiving a threatening glare and balled fist from my brother.
"Now, now, Allen Joe," Grandmama scolded him, "don't be rilin' up at your sister. Tell us more about the vamp-eers."
Allen-Joe's eyes only grew wider. "She says someone saw the vamp-eers last night- they're coming! I'll collect the sticks!" He made for the ground where I sat.
"No, no, Allen-Joe."
"But Grandmama, we have to protect ourselves!"
"Yes, but why don't we let someone else collect the sticks this time." Grandmama smiled at me.
At first Allen-Joe seemed envious, but then he stood up, attempting to brush off the dirt from his pants. (But was unsuccessful.) "Fine, I guess I can go to Darrel-Bob's cabin and he can take me out for some pig huntin'."
"That boy." Grandmama rolled her eyes once again and turned back to me. "I shall teach you how to collect the sticks." With what seemed to take little effort, Grandmama lifted herself from the cushioned chair and joined me on the ground.
"You will need three sticks. Two shorter ones, preferably of equal length, and one tall one."
I scanned the ground for the perfect sticks. I found two sticks that were about the same size, then scooped a slightly longer one. "Will this do?"
Grandmama smiled. "Splendiddleedee, my dear! On your brother's first try, he took a whole branch and a couple of uneven twigs."
You may think she was exaggerating, but she wasn't. I was there, my brother was tragically dim.
"Now," Grandmama moved on, leading me to the back door, "You will need to place the three sticks near the door. Do you know the order in which you need to prop them up?"
"Yes, Grandmama!" I beamed and set up the tall stick so it leaned against the wall next to the door, then I propped up the shorter sticks so they leaned on either side of it.
It looked somewhat like this: /|\
"How's that? Is this good?" I looked up at Grandmama, who was grinning.
"Perfect! Now if a vamp-eer comes to the door, the sticks will stab at him and drive 'im away!' She exclaimed. "I'll go prepare the front door."
As Grandmama left to shield our fortress further, I grinned to myself. I had learned two things that day- how to protect my home from vamp-eers, and to keep my shinin' ears healthy.
~~~
I actually came up with the tree bark years, storytelling, and 'vamp-eer protection' thing at an outing with my cousin's Girl Scout troop. Me and another girl in her troop had a lot of fun pretending we were weird country people. XD
I will continue this later. XD Now share your weird stories.
.
lol xD
