(The 3rd of 4…see Gone 2 and Gone the letter)

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Part 3…

An old reclusive aunt reaches out to her niece hoping to help her learn the truth about her family and herself.

Her niece makes the journey back to the family farm…a place she barely remembers. She has her new friend Arf to lead the way…

Should I pack up my belongings and travel down that road?

I couldn’t see another way to lighten up my load.

I wondered if they’d be there. This family I didn’t know.

When Arf and I walked through the gate, my steps began to slow.

Arf tried to hurry me along…then I heard a ringing bell.

The first thing he led me to was an old wishing well.

He pulled on a rope until a bucket reached the top.

He backed up to where I stood and let the bucket drop.

First I heard the whisper. Then I heard the bell.

“You can’t fill an empty bucket from an empty well.”

I heard the familiar whistling. The soft voice filled the air.

“If you want to get someplace, you have to leave nowhere.

You must escape the rope. Life on earth won’t last forever.

With a steady hand and prayer, you can put it all together.

Let your steps take you forward. You’re ready to move on.

Look back for just an instant to make sure you’re truly gone.”

What used to be the farmhouse was now more like a shack

I found a cot and fell asleep… too weary to unpack.

Early the next morning Arf walked over to a nook

When he returned, in his mouth he held a book.

Another message from my aunt? Arf began to pace.

I opened up the book and saw an unfamiliar face.

First I heard the whistle. Then I heard the bell.

I knew the woman in the book had a story to tell.

The first sentence of that letter shook me to the core. Against my better judgement, I went on to read some more…

*****************

It said…

I know I’m not your favorite. I never tried to be. But never mind all that! You can learn from me.

So listen up my dear and I’ll tell you what it takes. It makes no sense for you to make all of my mistakes.

I had a noose around my neck for Lord knows far too long. It took me years to figure out exactly what went wrong.

I was a farmer…not a farmer’s wife… I didn’t want to have any old goats in my life.

I had no time for family. No one ever called me nice. You’re my only niece and I think I’ve seen you twice.

You threw away your family, too and ran your best friend off. I’ve given you a new friend. His name is Arf.

You know where the farm is and I’ve given you the key. There you’ll find the answers that will set you free.

Arf will stay right with you. He won’t leave you alone. But he’ll have to bring his favorite chewed- up bone.

********************

Arf came with me willingly. We were quite a pair. We headed for the farm….I wondered what would happen there…

I heard the whispers in the wind and it comforted me somehow, but they had to do with then, and this was now.

And the wind will whisper your name to me,
Little birds will sing along in time,
The leaves will bow down when you walk by,
And morning bells will chime.

(Peter Paul and Mary)

To be Continued…

This might be too much information but someone asked how to stop the hour long podcast and come back to it later…

I hope this is not too confusing. Basically, if you pause it should stay paused until you come back to it.

I was walking through the park and fighting back the tears. I had never felt this sad in all my thirty years.

My job was going nowhere and I couldn’t pay my bills. It seemed no matter where I turned, I was always climbing hills.

My best friend and I weren’t speaking. We’d had some silly fight. I had given up on sleeping. I just cried all night.

I hadn’t seen my family since many years before. There was just one person, anyway, I truly did adore.

The sound of someone whistling broke through my melancholy. I looked around but all I saw was a little border collie.

He was sitting near an empty bench. He appeared to be alone. He was guarding two possessions, a small bag and a chewed-up bone.

I felt drawn to the park bench. I was feeling so fatigued, but even more than that, I was profoundly intrigued.

I feared the little dog might leave but instead… he moved closer to my knee where he laid his weary head.

Several minutes later I opened my eyes to see that he had picked up his small bag. Was he giving it to me?

He dropped it on the bench and nudged it closer to my hand. I opened it and what I saw I could not understand.

I found two things inside the bag…a letter and a key. The thing I could not believe? The letter was addressed to me.

I fumbled with the envelope and found a note within, but before I could begin to read, I heard the whistling again.

I soon found I was whistling along. Where could I have heard that familiar song?

***********************

Part 2 of Gone 2, next post…I promise you it won’t be sad…Trust me.

“I want to have a small wedding.”

“Good,” Dad said…”That’s all you’re getting.”

He went online and found a venue,

Picked the flowers and chose the menu.

His budget was now getting slim

He asked Aunt Sue to sing the hymn.

Who would play, “Here comes the bride?”

(The wedding was to be outside.)

He had to buy a wedding dress.

Where could he find her one for less?

Finally, all the plans were made.

The date was set, the bills were paid.

“Daughter, all you have to do is show!

Just say your vows. You’re good to go!”

She said, “I don’t think you understand.

I still have to find a man.”

Snapped this picture while walking with a friend. It needed a story.

If you’re interested in this venue, please call,

nine-nine-nine…nine-nine-nine-nine.

(Butt can is extra.)

One day Grandma June had a talk with Grandpa Jim. She feared that big old farm would be the death of him.

“Our daughters have their own plans. They don’t want this place.”

“I know,” Grandpa said. He had a sad look on his face.

“Let’s talk about it later, I don’t have time right now. There’s hay to be put up, and a field I have to plow.”

The farm had been my home every summer of my youth. I didn’t like what Grandma said, though I knew it was the truth.

That day instead of plowing or putting up the hay, we grabbed our fishing poles and fished the day away.

We didn’t get a bite, but we really didn’t care. I knew there was a reason Grandpa wanted to be there.

Grandpa Jim and Grandma June, had been this boy’s salvation. Grandma always told me I was truly God’s creation.

I wanted to ask Grandpa if it would be too tough, for him to run the farm, till I got big enough.

Grandpa Jim looked straight ahead. I knew what he was thinking. My eyes filled up with water and Grandpa’s eyes kept blinking.

“We better pack it up, son. You know we can’t be late. When supper is all ready, Grandma puts it on our plate.

I chuckled to myself as we picked up our rods and reels. Grandpa’s never late and Grandma never serves cold meals.

https://anchor.fm/mary-francis-mcninch3/episodes/A-long-chat-and-A-is-for-Abby-Ann-pt-3-e12pg3i

I finished the tie chair and I started a podcast called The MG Podcast. I really hope you’ll listen to it and follow me. I also hope you will share it with your friends. It doesn’t cost a thing!

Remember, I’m just playing around with ideas for a format. I duplicated the blog with the first 2 episodes, but now I’m changing it up with some chatter. I also hope to have some dynamic interviews…(okay fun guests). You can friend and follow me on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, and Spotify. Thanks for indulging me one more time…You’re the best!

Photograph by Dianna Kenobbie Diehm

This is my favorite picture of the old. country church

It didn’t look much better in it’s day.

It was a real good place for those who came to search

For their Higher Power and to pray

We sang Amazing Grace and It is well with my soul.

In the Garden was my Grandma’s favorite hymn

We saw babies being baptized and had widows to console

But mostly I liked watching Grandpa Jim.

When they passed the wafers he was whittling.

Grandma elbowed him real hard in his side.

He threw his offering in with the wafers. It was piddling.

I think that second elbow hurt his pride.

The quarters in the wafer plate made a lot of noise

Grandpa got no wafer with his wine.

I know whittling on a stick is something he enjoys.

Grandma thinks a knife in church is out of line.

When she takes his stick away he falls asleep.

Soon everyone in church can hear him snore.

Then the elbow in his side goes pretty deep.

Grandpa yells “Judas Priest!” and he’s done for.

You might think our bell and steeple are too large.

Or the church it sits on top of is too wide.

Grandpa rings the bell now. He’s happily in charge

Because Grandma and her elbow stay inside.

Redecorating is sure a lot of work. Especially if you’re doing it on a shoestring or I’m my case neckties. (I’ll explain more, later.)

I was inspired to add a little 4th of July color to the cottage so I took down the outside grapevine and foo foo that I have enjoyed since Yolie and I decorated the posts last year, and painstakingly transformed those same poles into what now resemble what you might see in front of a first rate barbershop. They are rather pretty at night with the lights on. Don’t forget to notice the blue footies.

I also made some changes on the inside to lose the winter and embrace the summer. I think it may be time to remove the curtains from the air conditioner.

Before looks junkie…

After…A little less congested

I love all three of our abodes… our not so tiny home, our motor home and the cottage. I have really become attached to the least of these…my cottage/clubhouse. Kip loves his garage.

I decided to add a couple of pics of his flowering cactus.

I almost forgot to shoe you what I’m purchasing ($5) to add a bit of color to the porch. Do you think it will tie into everything else?

The following is a never before told story….

Lav and I were commenting back and forth on a previous blog about crowns and hats. As far as I’m concerned, Her Highness, Queen Elizabeth made it possible for all persons of royalty to, on occassion, replace the pomp and circumstance of a bejeweled crown with the class and dignity of the perfectly styled hat. Queen E is no less the Queen in the exquisite hat designed for whatever “duty calls” appearance she graces with her magistry … She still dons the full regalia for the occassions requiring more elegance and perhaps regal distinction from her beloved commoners.

Anyway, I have crowns and what I call crown-hats. I have never before told you the back story to my royal connections. You know my mother was the Queen of Highway 16 when she was eighteen. She didn’t wear a crown. She wore a crown-hat. Her Palace was the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota. She looked the part of royalty through and through.

My story is more of a Cinderella story. It all began when I was seven. Kitty Reynolds, who was the most sought after seamstress in Murdo, called my mother with some exciting news. Her granddaughter, Judy, was getting married in Vernal, Utah and I was chosen to be the flower girl. Kitty was going to immediately fit me with a beautiful yellow gown and we were going to buy me some white patent leather shoes. Best of all, Kitty was going to make me a beautiful hat. One fitting for a beautiful southern belle. It was to be my first crown-hat.

It really pains me to tell you about the ugly twist this story took. Something came up and Mom and I weren’t going to be able to make it. I was appropriately devastated. I don’t think I have ever fully recovered. Well, not quite, but you will have to agree it’s not from lack of trying. The only thing that stopped the tears, was Mom told me I could wear my white patent leather shoes anytime I wanted to. I put them on and ran across Tuffy Gilbert’s yard and across Main Street to my friend Sandra’s house. (I was so besott, I doubt I had the presence of mind to look both ways.) I proceeded to show my shoes off to Sandra’s whole family. I wasn’t able to come forth with the knowledge that I was not going to be the princess at the wedding. I just couldn’t stop Sandra’s family, which happened to include my 2nd grade teacher, who was also Sandra’s mother, from saying how they couldn’t wait to see the wedding pictures of me dropping flowers from my basket as the light flashed brilliantly off the shiny leather of my shoes.
Guess what happened next? The event that was so bittersweet it was just about too much for the (dying for a crown-hat) kid that was me, to take! Mom decided we could go after all. Do you want to hear the kicker? My best friend Lois Lillibridge had already been told she was to be the royal flower girl and Kitty had turned my gown into Lois Lillibridge’s gown. I went to Vernal, Utah with Kitty and Mom and Lois and her mom and her sister, Cheryl. I wore my white shoes with everything. I never took them off. I didn’t act out either. I showed what I was made of. I didn’t shed a tear as I watched Lois in my gown walk regally down the isle at the coronation…I mean wedding.

I think that is why Kitty did what she did. When we got back to Murdo, Kitty made me…yes me…the most beautiful red gown I had ever seen.

And the rest is history.

Queen Elizabeth symbolically looking at me. My cousin, Mark, to right of me, was the parade manager. He designed and made my first tinfoil crown.

Let it be known that I have a picture of all of us in Vernal for the wedding, but it’s down in the cottage and it’s too early to walk down there.

As most of you know, my mom and Lav’s mom were sisters and extremely close friends, which is why Lav and I are cousins and extremely close friends. Lav fills in for Queen Elizabeth when she can’t get across the pond to some of my more pressing functions. I consider Lav, my sometimes co-queen. You are welcome, Lav, aka, Valerie.

I know you must be impressed by the humility I have shown considering what I have been through in my endeavor to let the past control my life. I don’t think that came out right. I hope you know what I mean because I don’t.

Have a wonderful day all of you beautiful commoners.