Some stuff on my fridge…2 pictures

The Brown Mouse Bar and Grill…How They Met.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” he said, tray under his arm, note pad in his hand.

“I’ve never been her before.”

He nodded.  “What’ll you have?”

“A vegetarian salad and lemonade.  Warm cherry pie for dessert with vanilla bean ice cream”

“Perfect.”

“And I want to see the Brown Mouse, this place is named for.”

“The Brown Mouse?”

“Yes.  I want to see the Mouse.”

“There is no mouse.”

“There has to be a mouse, if the place is named after one.”

“That’s not true.”

“It should be.”

“I might be able to catch a mouse for you, or buy one, if you want to come back in a day or two.”

“If you’re naming a place, The Brown Mouse, you need to have a Brown Mouse so people can see it.”

“I’ll be back with your lemonade in a minute,” he said, walking away.

“Madam?” said a man in a pristine white half apron.  The kind you see in Paris, wrapped around his waist.

“Ouí?”

“You wish to see the Mouse?”

“If it’s possible.”

“May I sit?”

“Please,” she said, pointing to the chair.

“I’m afraid to say the Mouse is no longer with us.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He nodded.  “He was a nice Mouse.  My father told me the story about how he and my grandfather came to this shop.  It was empty, and had been for more than a year.  They worked hard and made enough money to buy the building, the shop and the apartment above.  When they started cleaning, they saw the Brown Mouse.  They worked long hours and the mouse would watch them, sometimes coming out of his mouse house.  They fed him cheese from their lunches, and bread.  They put a dish of water out for him. Eventually, the mouse became used to seeing them and came out more often.  One day he even sat on my fathers shoe.” he said, smiling.  “They loved the mouse and named their restaurant after him.”

“What a wonderful story.  Thank you so much for telling me.”

“I have a secret,” he whispered, looking around.

She leaned in close to him and watched him put his hand into his shirt pocket.  He pulled out a sleepy brown mouse.  “An ancestor of the original,” he said.  He has nice nest in the back and we care for him.  His siblings are at our homes,” he laughed, handing the mouse to her.

She kissed the mouse and her eyes were sparkling with tears.  “He’s so beautiful.”

The man nodded.  “He brings us luck.  There has been a mouse on the property for forty years.”

“I work for the Health Department,” she said, petting the mouse.

The man paled and scooted backward.

“I’m happy to see all is in order in your lovely Bar and Grill.  I’m looking forward to my lunch.  I’m sure your kitchen is spotless and I may have a look after I eat, but I know I will be pleasantly surprised.”

She handed the mouse back to the man and he slipped him back into his pocket.  He took her hand and kissed it.  “A pleasure,” he said.

She smiled.  “The pleasure is mine, I assure you.  A man with a gentle heart is a beautiful thing to see.  I’m sure the mouse house is away from the food area.”

“It is.”

“The lemonade is delicious.”

“It’s a special recipe and the ice cubes have a flavor of their own.”

The waiter put her salad in front of her, smiled and left.  The man rose and bowed.  “Madam.”

“Kind sir,” she said, and picked up her fork.

 

 

 

Quote: Cher

If you’re black in this country,
if you’re a woman in this country,
if you are any minority in this country at all,
what could possibly possess you to vote Republican?

–Cher, actress and Singer

I like to change the stuff on my kitchen table around…so this is the new look…second photo is on the dish cabinet…I went rustic and used old crates and old tools. The flower pots came from the coolest garden shop in Chicago…”city escape.” And picture three…a few more of my kitchen plants.

The Cat’s Lament…

“He’s back, isn’t he? I can smell him,” sighed the cat, covering his eyes.

“Hello friend,” said the dog.  “Nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see me?  Really?” hissed the cat.

“It’s a beautiful day.  the sun is out and.”

“SKEMET!  Help me!” cried the cat.

“Wanna play?  I have a ball,” said the dog, his tail wagging tentatively.

“Do I want to play?  He’s a dog.  He can’t even get off the ground.”

“We can just sit here, if you like.  We can nap, tell stories, or chase each other.”

The cat looked up and grinned.  “You want me to chase you?”

“Sure,” said the dog.  “I trust you not to hurt me, when you catch me.”

“Rats,” hissed the cat, looking away. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Should I run…now?”

“Sure, why not,” said the cat.  “I’ll count to ten thousand, so it will take more than two seconds to get you.”

“Okay, thanks,” said the dog, turning to run.

 

 

Photo:  Bence Halmosi
Unsplash

 

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From: Astronomy Picture of the Day

Pillars of the Eagle Nebula in Infrared

The flowers on this Christmas Cactus are gigantic…

Amanda Smith…a short story

Amanda Smith grew up wanting to be a teacher.  She did very well in school, and while everyone said it wasn’t because she terrified her teachers, they all agreed that she was a tiny bit different than most girls her age.

She liked kids and thought that she could…mmmm…teach them things they might not learn in most traditional public schools.  She often showed up for class with grave dirt under her nails, or what looked like splotches of blood on her dress, but she just snickered and said that she had been planting violets and cut herself… making…breakfast.

Her favorite holiday was Halloween and the kids in her class were allowed to wear costumes for the entire month of October.  She carried a pumpkin with her all year long, because she felt that it brought her good luck, and the squirrels liked to eat them when they started to decay.

Unfortunately, many parents complained about Ms Smith, saying that she was scary and too strange to be around children.  They cited her make up, and the fact that she dressed exactly the same, day after day, after day.  Her newest principal said that her shoes were always spotless and the children loved her, but even he had to admit that he could see their point.

Ms Smith’s parents were only ever seen after sundown and they never had visitors, or spoke to any of their neighbors.  They were a quiet family who kept scorpions and bats as pets. The plants in their garden were poisonous but pretty…for the most part.

After many years of going from teaching job to teaching job, Ms Smith washed her face, cut her hair, and bought a new red dress.  She changed her dream and became a concert pianist, who now travels the world and plays to sold out crowds in gigantic concert halls.

When interviewed, Ms Smith said that she did go through a fun, but extended, goth period. She also admitted that her parents were vampires,  but she didn’t see what that had to do with her musical ability.  She said that she wished reporters should just stop asking about them and pay attention to her music.

The moral of the story is:  Dreams can change. It’s never too late.

 

Photo:  Oleg Magni
Pexels

 

 

Started this book last night…

Enjoying it very much.  Highlights all the fabulous women of the times, the rebels and the fabulous.  Great photographs.

Emmie out sunning herself yesterday afternoon…that’s still snow on the lower left.