i get a call
that her siding
is loose, and some
has fallen to the
ground, pieces
are scattered in
the wind, the house
is leaking, water
is coming through
the ceiling, and i
tell her that i don't
do siding, but now
she is crying, she
is telling me about
her life, her husband,
how he's run off with
another woman,
how her dog has run
away. she tells me
that she has posted
signs all over the
neighborhood with
his picture and that
she is offering a
reward. and i
tell her gently again,
i'm sorry, but i don't
know anything about
siding, i'm not sure
if i can help you.
she pleads some more
though, and i give in.
she is crying.
i tell her that i
will be there today,
before it's dark,
i'll bring a ladder
and see what i can do.
she blows her nose and
says thank you, thank
you, you are so kind.
and when you come over,
on the way, can you
keep an eye out for my
dog, he's small and
black and i am so lost
without him. could you
do that for me? he
answers to the name
iowa.
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2 comments:
When my daughter was in second grade, she had to "be" a State. She was Iowa. I learned so much about Hawkeyes that I swore one day I'd go to Pella to touch more tulips than Holland can believe. Pella is lost from your postings, kinda like the dog. It's a rainy Wednesday... just saying hello.
I adore your charm.
Top button, hold it down.
Sent from my iPad.
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