Carl: ‘Hey there, Carl here. Raylene’s been hounding me about sending in an update, seeing as its been a while. She’s a bit under the weather at the moment, so I may just get a word in edgewise.’
Raylene (muffled): ‘I can hear you CARL. Good thing you’re on my good side, or I’d stuff your pockets with honey and leave you out for the bears.’
Carl (very quietly): ‘I’m just going to step out on the porch for a moment. Raylene’s madder than a wet cat at the moment, seeing as how she’s laid up. We’re back at home in Texas while she recuperates. My mother is helping to take care of her. To be honest, I think that’s like using kerosene to put out a grease fire, so I find myself catching up on outside chores and keeping the store up.
Well, let’s see now. We told you about Niagara Falls. Raylene still brings up that Mountie feller, and even suggested I get myself a Mountie uniform. Why I’d be a part of such foolishness, I have no idea. Any-hoo, we drove around a bit, and at Thanksgiving we found ourselves in Consekatquat, Virginia for the annual First Thanksgiving Re-enactment. First, we both had to change clothes. Raylene was not pleased, as she had a new pink sparkly thing (wrap, shawl? I don’t know – some lady thing). We got assigned to be Native Americans, so they gave us buckskin clothes to wear. Raylene would have me tell you they weren’t actual buckskin, as she found a bar-code inside hers, but I don’t care all that much. We got to help prepare the meal and everything. Watching Raylene chase those chickens around until she caught one. Heeehehehehehe. Well, that was a sight I will remember. They didn’t make us kill them or anything, we just took them around back, and brought out the store-bought chickens and put them on the spit. Raylene about cried when they led their deer around back (for Pete’s sake Raylene, it has a bridle on, I don’t think they’re gonna shoot it). I suspect the animal we served was actually a pig, but I didn’t want to say anything, being a good member of the tribe. Solidarity and all. Also, Raylene can be a bit touchy about whole pig, what with Bacon Bits. He did not take part in the day as he was tuckered out from his other escapades. We men manned the spits, while Raylene was hauled off to clean vegetables and grind corn to make corn cakes. I thought one time I saw a box of Bisquick over there, but, I didn’t say anything. Solidarity.
After a day of turning meat and listening to Raylene entertain the others, we got to sit down to eat. Near as I can tell, the Pilgrims were just in charge of setting the table, and pouring the cider. They did fine with that. We had a nice time.
After the meal, everybody helped clean up and Raylene got her sparkly thing back. We said our good-byes and took off in Betty Jane.
The next day, Raylene declared she just had to do her some ‘Black Friday Shopping.’ We went to the nearest big city and found the biggest shopping mall around. I found myself a nice seat on the balcony, with a cup of coffee, and watched Raylene stand in line with a couple hundred other folks, waiting for that one place’s doors to open. She had Bacon Bits with her this time, in that little purse she uses to carry him. Anyways, she had un-zipped it to feed him or kiss him or some such foolishness, when them doors opened, and the crowd, what would you say? Swam? No. Stampeded? Not quite that bad. Surged. Yep, it surged forward. Raylene was shoved, and dropped the purse-thing. Bacon Bits hit the ground and ran for it. Next thing I know, I see Raylene flying OVER the crowd. She can jump when she has a mind too. All blonde hair and sequins, like a Texas rainbow. Well, it all went South from there. I will spare you the details. One minute I see Raylene land, and set about finding her pig in a manner that would make a Dallas Cowboys Lineman proud. The next minute, pandemonium. When the dust settled, five of six of us got up from the coffee place and head down to sort out the mess. No one was seriously hurt, but Raylene had banged up her shoulder, and had a few other injuries. . . . . I’m going to just step off down to the garage for a minute.
Ok. I don’t think she can hear me now. I don’t know how to say this. Heeeehehehehe. Somehow, Raylene had been impaled. Nothing serious mind you. No. But she had one of her sparkly high heels imbedded in her. . . .in her . . . . rear end. Ohhhh! Hehehehehehehe. Nothing a few stitches didn’t fix. I have no idea how it happened. She told me to swear I’d never tell. However, then Bacon Bits ate three or four perfume samples, so she got distracted and didn’t notice I promised no such thing.
Well, that’s about that. She’s pleased as punch with me right now, because I spent the best part of the night while she was sleeping soundly (courtesy of her pain medication) bedazzling her shoulder sling. Took a little bit to get the hang of it. Had to practice on Bacon Bits’ blanket – so she thinks it was a gift for the pig too. If she and my mother don’t kill each other, I’m going to be a hero around here for a bit.
I think maybe I’ll just take myself off for a couple days. See if I can find some hub caps for the store. After all, we have to keep stock. . . . I’m really doing it for her, after all.
Yep. That should work.
See you in a few! This has been Carl Schputt. And I’m out.’