Flash Fiction #161

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PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

LOUD AND CLEAR

Uh-huh….
So your grandson got an interview for the assistant quality-control position.
Uh-huh….
It’ll be straight day-shifts, and Monday to Friday, and a raise.

Great!  Look, I’d love to stand and talk, but Hubby’s bringing home his boss and wife.  I’m a little tied up right now.  I’m trying to make her favorite salad to impress them.  It has kale and watercress and pine-nuts.

I have to run to the store to get balsamic vinegar.  I don’t know how it will taste, but it’ll look great in my crystal salad bowl.  Call me later.  I’ll tell you how it went.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

A To Z Challenge – U

april-challenge

When NBC convinced Johnny Carson to move his Tonight show from New York City to California, the changeover happened quite quickly.   His Burbank studio was ready far before he had a chance to buy or rent accommodations on the Left Coast.

He was put up for almost two months in a luxury suite at a ritzy local hotel. I don’t know if it was just having to live in unfamiliar, if posh, surroundings; if there was some friction between him and hotel staff and management; or if it was just an easy target for the gag-writers jokes.

Every night for weeks, there was a snide comment, and the Sheraton Universal was changed and referred to in his monologues as the Sheraton Unspeakable, the Sheraton Unreasonable, the Sheraton Uninhabitable, the Sheraton Untenable, the Sheraton Unbearable.

It was almost amazing how many U-shaped insults were crafted.  Finally, one night it became simply the Sheraton Unique, and we come to the word for this post about

letter-u

I recently composed a post about how huge percentages of the population have an overwhelming compulsion for conformity. They must be like everyone else, and everybody else must be exactly like them.

When the grandson was small, he was diagnosed with a variety of food allergies. Several of them caused behavioral problems, something the non-plagued are often not aware of.  Certain chemicals and compounds in food can cause physical and neurological stress, in turn causing moodiness, edginess, irritability, anger and lack of focus.

As a child it was relatively easy for his mother to watch his intake and ensure that he took his medication. As he neared puberty, and his character was developing, he regressed to sullen disinterest, if not disobedience, more so than most tweens.  Careful cross-examination revealed that he was sneaking foods from classmates, and not taking his pills.

When he was asked why he was doing this, even knowing his allergies, his answer was that he didn’t want to have allergies. He didn’t want a restrictive diet.  He didn’t want to take pills.  He just wanted to be like everyone else.

It didn’t take long to prove to him that ‘everyone else’ wasn’t like ‘everyone else.’ His Mom and his Grandma had to avoid certain foods and take medications.  When he looked closer, he found classmates with similar restrictions and needs.

Grandma, the chef, pointed out that the spelt-based cookies, cakes, bread and rolls, even the spelt-crust pizza, with lactose-free cheese and tamarind sauce, instead of tomato, were treats that no-one else got to have. Did he want her to stop making them for him?  The way to a man’s head, as well as his heart, is often through his stomach.

As a knowledgeable adult he can control the allergic affects, although he is still careful. As well as being a friendly, caring young man, he is largely indistinguishable from the rest of the herd, but he takes pride in knowing that he, like all the rest of us, is one-of-a-kind.  He is unique!  I don’t know why more of us can’t embrace that.

What I Got For Christmas

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I know it’s a bit(?) late, but I wanted to give credit where credit is firmly due.  I took the photos for this post, and thought I’d composed it.  Since I apparently didn’t, there was nothing to remind me, until I started checking photos for a different post.

As my ‘We’re Not Quite Hoarders’ and ‘Autumn Housecleaning’ posts have shown, I/we have been slowly getting rid of no-longer-needed, accumulated stuff.  I am not the most difficult old codger to buy presents for, but, barring a big lottery win by someone who wants to present me with a new house, a new car, and a new motorcycle, I have pretty much everything I need, including a fantastic family.

Almost two years ago, my ingenious grandson, flush with paychecks from his welding apprentice work placement, presented me for my birthday with the ‘En Garde Coupon’ shown above, good for $500 toward any knife I’d like to purchase.

Highly grateful, but ever the pragmatist, I didn’t feel I wanted to bring more stuff into the house at this point in my life.  I can look at beautiful knives, and even handle them, but I had a thought about using a trip through Pennsylvania, Ohio and Michigan to attend a knife show, and meet a couple of fellow-bloggers.  He generously agreed to co-sponsor the trip.

For any who haven’t read them, the antics and adventures of that trip are available in The Fellowship Of The Blog series, beginning with the Prologue.

The trip occurred in October, 2014, but Government bureaucracy stupidity delayed the grant check for his college tuition and texts, forcing him to raid his savings account until it finally arrived.  By Christmas, he still hadn’t said or done anything about the promised amount.  I knew of his problems, didn’t mind about it, and had almost forgotten.

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Then came Christmas!  When it came time to distribute presents, he handed me the above box.  It wasn’t very heavy.  Perhaps it was another of the always-handy, and much-appreciated, Chapters Bookstore gift cards.

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When I opened the box and looked inside, I realized how ingenious and devious he was.  Aided and abetted by his devious and ingenious mother (Can I take any credit for this??), they had carefully rolled up and inserted two new $50 bills, and twenty new $20 bills – the full $500, as promised.

20 Dollars    50 Dollars

 

 

The new Canadian polymer plastic bills do not take kindly to being rolled up – or anything else – quickly flattening back out.  The daughter got out her bag of clip-type clothespins.  They would roll up a bill, clip it to hold it, and insert it in the box.  Clip, insert, clip, insert, until all 22 bills were in, and the box was full(?).  Then they carefully removed the clips.  To a guy whose idea of presentation was to leave some suckers in the paper bag I got them in from an old Mennonite, this just awed me!  (And I’m odd enough.)

Ladies and gentlemen, let’s have a round of applause and appreciation for ‘Thorn’ Smith!  I already profusely thanked him at Christmas, but feel he deserves a digital acknowledgement and congratulation also.  ‘As the twig is bent, so grows the tree’, and this tree is growing strong and true.

He is a kind and thoughtful young man, who treats his Poppa (and everyone else) well.

Thanx again, Kid!  Feel free to show this off on your smart phone till the battery dies.   😀