Sunday, August 1, 2010

#17 Poor Kid Wasn't Even a Little Bit Country (part 2 of 3)


(this is a series of 3....scroll down and start with #1)

One afternoon, my daughter, Patty, came racing into the kitchen and exclaimed, “Someone is throwing things at me!”

Of course I was skeptical, but my daughter seemed to be very sure so I followed her into the yard.

She showed me where she was standing when an object had struck her on the back.  We walked around the yard and surrounding area.  Not even one hidden prankster could be found.  Satisfied, I went back into the house.

Minutes later she came flying back into the house.    

She was REALLY angry this time.  Patty was sputtering, pointing toward the back yard, and stomping her feet shouting,  “Someone IS out there!”.

So, we took off again for the back yard (which was about 3 acres of bushes, oak trees and brush).  Another complete search revealed no lurking ambushers.  As we were heading back to the house I heard a whizzing sound; like something flying through the air.  Then I heard an object hit the side of the garage.

Patty, (with hands on hips) glared at me and growled, “SEE!”

Then another object hit me on the head.  That was when I realized that the flying objects were acorns from this GIANT, 200 year old, oak tree which stood in the middle of our back yard.  Acorns would drop from a great height, careen off a branch and take off like a missile.

When the culprit was revealed, I laughed.  Patty just stomped into the house muttering something like, “I really hate it here!”

kt 2010


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