The Origin of April Fool’s Day

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

THE ORIGIN OF APRIL FOOL’S DAY

Cochran Cornell, the Cantankerous Cockroach,

 contributed to this post

     As I recall, way back in time, the unicorn (I’ll call him Sanno) refused to board Noah’s Ark. Sanno was having too much fun bouncing about in the waves of the coming flood. His black, gold, and red horn bobbed up and down through the waves as he splashed, and was splashed, becoming more energetic as the waves increased in size.

     His joy was so great that he didn’t hear Noah’s last call. Noah reached a point of desperation, having to decide whether to sail on, leaving Sanno behind, or to try to rescue him. However, Sanno, swimming about, had swum so far from the ark that Noah realized, finally, that no matter what, he  couldn’t save Sanno, so he sadly sailed on, saving the other animals for future generations.

     Sanno didn’t realize he was missing the boat as he continued to dive in and out of the waves, nary a care in the world. What fun! That is, until he saw a giant wave moving towards him. Suddenly, he realized he might be endangered. He looked about for Noah’s Ark, but all he could see was a speck in the distance. Was that the Ark? It was impossible to tell.

     It didn’t matter. Sanno couldn’t get to the Ark, nor could he avoid the huge wave, one unlike he had ever imagined. It rolled upon him, over him, lifting him higher than he’d ever experienced before. He looked up—he was riding the top of it, and could see for miles! And all he saw was

Replace Punxsutawney Phil with a ROBOT?

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

REPLACE PUNXSUTAWNEY PHIL WITH A ROBOT? 

 IS MY ILK TO BE NEXT?

Cochran Cornell the Cantankerous Cockroach

     OK, so you haven’t heard from me for a while. Writer’s block. That’s what I suffer from. Just when I thought it was hopeless, I was injected with a jolt of verbal energy…just as you would be if someone suggested replacing all humans with robots.

     I’m so shocked!

     I had pulled myself out of my doldrums just enough to scoot over the local newspaper that my creator Carolyn was reading. And what did I spot? Why, the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals is campaigning to replace Punxsutawney Phil with a robot! 

     (Carolyn has this illustration for Punxsutawney Phil—

http://www.flickr.com/photos/beaneryonlineliterarymagazine/2493962362/ . He is so cute as a Beany Baby that someone adopted him.)

     Who do those folks think they are? Personally, I think it’s just a publicity stunt. But if the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals manages to succeed in their quest to robotize my friend…well, fat chance of that…

     PETA claim that humans should treat Phil with compassion. That drew the ire of the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club, and drew battle lines with the thousands of people, perhaps millions worldwide, who rise early each February 2nd to find out what the near-future weather will be.

     When I heard PETA was campaigning for humans to be compassionate to Phil, I thought to myself, “Rubbish!” But to get the real scoop, I scooted off Carolyn’s newspaper onto the road. Fortunately, I was able to hitch a ride to Punxsutawney, not too far from Carolyn’s Pennsylvania home, in

A BROKEN LEG FOR CHRISTMAS

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

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A BROKEN LEG FOR CHRISTMAS

     It was just before Christmas, 1983. My friend, Shirl, her husband Wayne and I were ushering at the Alliance Theater in downtown Atlanta, Georgia, for a production of The Music Man.

We ushered at this theater regularly and at other smaller theaters occasionally. It was a way for the wife of a graduate student and mother of a preteen and teenager to afford theater tickets (price, free) while spending three years in that city.

This December day I’d dressed for the holidays, including high heel shoes. I was yet to learn I had high foot arches that made for ankle instability.

I’d seen the play—and the movie—several times before, but really enjoyed the story. The first part of the play was wonderful, as usual. At intermission the three of us joined the throng of theater goers descending the marble stairway leading to the lobby (we’d been assigned balcony positions). Shirl was behind me. I heard her say something and turned slightly to respond.

All of a sudden, I was

The “Meow” Chorus: A cat symphony on a Greyhound Bus

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

THE “MEOW” CHORUS:

A Cat Symphony on a Greyhound Bus

     The bus passenger carried a suitcase—an ordinary enough looking valise, dark brown with stains and stickers identifying places its age and destinations. It was one of several unmatched pieces she was traveling with.

     She was returning to her hometown after a years sojourn in a strange city. All her worldly goods were in these bags. Ordinary items. Clothes, a few books, financial records, photos and a favorite glass from the state fair.

     But another bag held one thing that was not ordinary. She held it tight to her side as she stood in the bus line, waiting to board.

     As the line shortened, she grew nervous. Could, she, would she, be successful? After all, there were rules. And she was intentionally and uncharacteristically breaking one of them.

THANKSGIVING READING

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

 

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

To all my faithful readers.

Thank you for your support!

And now, for some

THANKSGIVING READING:

 

TWO THANKSGIVING STORIES:

THE SNITTY CAT LIKES PUMPKIN PIE?

LEFTOVER TURKEY

A THANKSGIVING POEM

 

To read a post about the birthmother in LEFTOVER TURKEY:

PENNSYLVANIA WEDDING, (LAMOINE) MAINE ROOTS

 

THE KILLER KITTEN

QUINTESSENCE

JUST ANOTHER WEEKEND IN PARADISE

“DATING WHEN FIFTY-SOME:” A Guy’s Version

IS THIS “CHEERS?”

ON THE EVE OF 27

LEGS UP

THE WRITING LIFE: There’s a World Out There?

CHILD ABUSE DEFINITIONS

 

THE SNITTY CAT LIKES PUMPKIN PIE?

CAROLYN’S COMPOSITIONS

THE SNITTY CAT LIKES PUMPKIN PIE?

 

      Imagine my surprise when I walked into the kitchen on Thanksgiving morning and discovered about a third of a dish of cooked pumpkin pie filling missing—like something had lapped it up! I guess I was naïve—I never knew CATS liked pumpkin pie! But Honey must have yearned to have a Thanksgiving meal.
     The next morning, another third of the pumpkin was gone.
     I determined to discover if the culprit snitching the pie filling was our snitty cat, Honey—although there was no other answer unless my hubby was playing tricks on me, which I doubted.
     That night, I cleared the counter, fetched the cat off the closet shelf where she thought she was hiding, and set her on the counter in front of the dish of partially eaten pumpkin. Sure enough, she began

STARTLED BY A CRITTER IN THE CAR!

There was a soft rap on our guestroom door. I rapped softly back, thinking it was my newly-four-year-old grandson. He had just celebrated his birthday the day before, and we were in Cleveland Heights, Ohio, for the occasion.

However, the rap on the door turned out to be my son, wanting to know if we’d been up and out to the car already that morning.

No, we hadn’t. But I’d left a car door open when packing the car the night before, and thus, the question from Nolan.

We finished packing the car, and left to return to Pennsylvania. It was just before 9:30 a.m., not bad for our plan to leave by nine o’clock. I was waiting to get my java at a food store we were going to shop at on our way when suddenly Monte let out the wildest war whoop I’d ever heard come from his mouth. I caught myself panicking: HEART ATTACK! WHILE HE’S DRIVING

FERAL BIRDS: THE LATEST COMMUNITY HAZARD

Just after a private Gulfstream jet took off from the Santa Barbara, California, airport, a bird collided with its windshield, forcing the metal bird to return to the airport. It’s a pretty common event, according to the Santa Barbara fire department spokesman, John  Ahlman, said.

The passengers, Oprah Winfrey, and her boyfriend,