Seasons
Our Town – March 10, 2011
“Great Caesar’s debit card!” said the Original Soupster, pushing away the computer keyboard, frustrated. “Fireweed scramble!” “Uncle,” said the Soupster. “Calm down. Just tell me what it is you’re trying to access.” “Access? What do you mean access?” said the Original Soupster. “Don’t give me that Greek plaster! Speak English!” The Soupster took a deep…
Read MoreOur Town – February 24, 2011
“’This weather – ‘taint fit for man nor beast,” the Soupster said, sitting down with his friend Abigail in a cozy corner of the café. Outside, where it was 30 degrees, hail rained down at 75 degrees, bouncing a few inches off the parking lot asphalt and car roofs. “I went through at least four…
Read MoreOur Town – November 4, 2010
The knock on the Soupster’s door turned out to be Bob, the Soupster’s new neighbor, who wanted to borrow a flashlight. Bob needed to do some outdoor plumbing and, new to Our Town, he still felt uncomfortable about running electrical cords outside in the rain.
Read MoreOur Town – October 7, 2010
“Hi, neighbor Joan. How is life treating you?” “Soupster, I am fine but it is that time of year again.” “What time is that?” “Haven’t you ever noticed; when the rain gets serious and the light begins to fade many of the folks in Our Town start speaking gibberish.” “What are you talking about? A…
Read MoreOur Town – September 9, 2010
The Soupster remembered his conversation with his neighbor’s grandson with some regret. He felt he was a little harsh with the boy when the youngster tried to lecture him about recycling. The Soupster searched his mind for the just right word to describe his own behavior – which was gruff and hostile out of reflex.
Read MoreOur Town – July 1, 2010
“That sounds brutal,” the Soupster commiserated over the phone with his friend Tilly from Oklahoma. “Eighty-four degrees Fahrenheit at midnight last night,” said Tilly. “It may hit 105 today.” “Incredible,” said the Soupster from Our Town. (duh!) “It’s supposed to be 55 here – 50 degrees cooler.” “Sounds wonderful,” said Tilly. “But I’m sure you pay…
Read MoreOur Town – March 25, 2010
(Originally published March 22, 2007) “Two hundred and forty-seven eggs, wreck `em,’” the waitress called to the short-order cook in the Soupster’s dream about Spring. In his dream about Spring, the Soupster sat at a breakfast counter that hadn’t existed in Our Town for years. Two large dark-haired men sat on either side of him.…
Read MoreOur Town – June 18, 2009
For two weeks, the sun shone from early, early morn to long past when it had any right to still be up at all. Two solid weeks of sun. Our Town melted and oozed toward Solstice. Throughout the spate of sun, general sprucing had ensued: wall colors brightened with paint, unruly lawns subdued by blades,…
Read MoreOur Town – May 21, 2009
The Soupster rode shotgun alongside his buddy Dorothy, who drove her ancient pickup west down Sawmill Creek Road into Our Town. A satisfying lunch shared earlier at Dotty’s abode had lulled them both. Dot’s four new summertime tires (no studs!) carried the two friends smoothly down the roadway. The Soupster glanced out at the alders…
Read MoreOur Town – May 7, 2009
Drunk on sunshine and happily munching a donut, the Soupster staggered down to a rocky beach near the end of the road. For the first time this year — in homage to the growing warmth and light — the Soupster had tossed his winter coat to the back of the closet and donned a fleece…
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