Saturday Slight

Well, we've watched the stock market zigzag this week. We've seen heart-breaking tragedy overshadow tragedy in the Utah mine disaster. The space shuttle seems to be okay; of course, it hasn't come back to earth yet, and there's a hurricane that might get in its way.

There's an NFL quarterback who seems to be playing dodgeball in taking responsibility for his cruel and inhumane hobby with dogs. Seattle's Mariners continue to hang in there in second place, and the Cubs now sit atop their division of the National League. Tomorrow it rains. Maybe we'll luck out and won't see smoke or fires around this area.

The cool morning air is signaling an end to a long, hot summer----one with no zucchini at the Lovestead, lots of blossoms but no squash. My crook necks, though, are multiplying like rabbits, so much so that I gave 'em as door prizes at the Auntie's event last night. Some folks didn't get them because my senior memory of having picked the squash yesterday morning and putting them in my book bag failed to kick in until halfway through the signing.

Once it did, though, and I'd added an assortment of free Lovestead veggies to the book pile, the Auntie's crowd came alive, knowing they'd go home with "something gleaned." One person, however, apparently didn't appreciate the gesture and stuffed the gift squash on a book shelf while leaving the store. It was soon discovered by a store employee who was signing off for the night.

"There's a crook-neck squash here on the shelf," she announced across the room to her fellow workers.

"There are more over here," I yelled while autographing a book. She came to the table and took all that remained.

"I'll eat a crook neck any day," she said as she left for the night. Lois, the events coordinator, got a particularly artistic hand-out. Hers was darker orange and had more wrinkles than the others. At first, I gave Pat McManus an iddy biddy yellow runt, but it did have a pretty blossom. Later, I felt bad and pulled out a bigger model from my bag and handed it over to him. His wife Darlene seemed pleased that they'd come to hear Marianne and got to go home with a squash.

I got rid of a lot of squash last night because I know Bill and I cannot eat all those that keep popping out from the heart of that one huge plant. Now, I just don't know what the deal is with the zucchini. I've seen this phenomenon before---when there are all those blossoms but no fruit. This is unusual for zucchini because it has a reputation for being prolific. Maybe this is just a crook-neck year.

There was good news at the signing last night. Susie Short came. She graduated in the mid-'80s. She has six kids and almost a doctorate. Now, how many modern-day women could claim that? I was mighty proud to hear of Susie's achievements. We both agreed she'd been busy. I got to see Pam Stangel from Class of 1989. She looks great. And, Sig Thompson from Class of 1972 seemed to enjoy hearing the pie-eating story which featured her friend Kent Compton.

We had a great time afterward at Cyrus O'Leary's with my former colleague and good friend Marian Whitfield. She brought along a mother-daughter teaching team from Cheney. After sharing a few well-polished zingers from our Sandpoint High days, we parted company and headed for home. After all, Bill had to report to Bonners Ferry at 6 a.m. for fire duty. Arriving home at 12:30 a.m., I checked the telephone messages, and there was welcome news for Bill.

"Bill, you're being de-mobed," Mary Ann Hamilton said. That meant no need to get up quite so early. He has to head up there later this morning and sign out. Maybe, just maybe, this will be the end of his fire duty for 2007. It all depends on how much rain drops from the sky tomorrow.

It's Saturday, and I haven't gone to coffee cult in about two months. So, I think I'd better resurface and find out some of the local gossip. Hope everyone has a great weekend and that the news starts improving. Happy weekend.