To the Farm - Part 9

Good morning to all you FFFs!
It's a lovely morning here. Just a hint of chill to the morning air. We had a beautiful sunrise with bright pink clouds in a sea of blue. It's only supposed to be in the low 80's today.
Last night I got to enjoy a musical treat with my grandpa. He came down and we went to a concert last evening. We heard the Brentano String Quartet playing Bach, Mendelssohn and Brahms. What a delight to relax and just enjoy the wonderful music while watching the musicians.

This week has been a good length. Not too short, but not too long and drawn out. I wrote the end to my new book, but it hasn't been edited yet. I also have the front cover partly designed. After finding just the right person for the front, and a great image to use as the background, I decided to try designing it myself. Thankfully I do have someone to give me advice along the way. (Thanks, Perry!) Yesterday I was playing around with the back and spine. So much fun!
Oh, and if anyone wants to draw me a black and white snowflake, I'd love to see it. I want to use snowflakes as my scene brakes in this book, and it occurred to me that having different ones would make it even more fun. So, snowflakes anyone?

I was going to tell you all that "Gift from the Storm" is being recorded on audio, but the producer had to cancel due to ill health. So, . . . it's going back out for auditions. The same happened with TCR-1. Sorry. If you know of any really good readers, send them to ACX and have them look up my books. :)

And now the next to last part of the story about Ria and the Gang.

To the Farm

Part 9

    “What’s this?” Uncle Frank asked, coming into the room at that moment. “I thought Ria was on the mend.”
    Rapidly Earl explained.
    Uncle Frank was sympathetic and offered to stay with the invalid for a while.
    To Ria the day dragged on. Her ankle ached and, worst of all, she was confined to the sofa unless she was carried to another place to lie and watch the others. Everyone tried to amuse her; her aunts, mother and grandma all chatting with her until they were called away as they always were, her uncles, father and grandpa offering to play a game of Sorry!, Scrabble or Monopoly with her, but Ria declined, she had already played those games until she was sick of them. And even the allure of playing with new opponents was not appealing. The young girls tried playing in the room where Ria was, but Ria didn’t feel like pretending she was a sick, old lady they had come to visit, and they soon departed. Ria didn’t expect any visits from the younger boys and she got none, for they were much too busy doing whatever it was younger boys do. As for the gang, several of them offered to sit with Ria and keep her amused, but Ria soon sent them off with the excuse that she was tired or wanted to read. She was tired, tired of being the invalid, tired of sitting around all day, and tired of not being able to do the things she loved doing.

    Later in the afternoon, Ria watched out the window as the gang gathered on the grass. The sun was shining and a breeze shook the leaves of the shade tree.
    It was a lively conversation, for several times bursts of laughter rang out or the buzz of talk grew louder, but she couldn’t hear what was being said, though the window was open. Several times one of the boys would look her way and wave or smile. “I wonder what they are talking about,” she sighed to herself. “I wish they would hold their discussion on the porch so I could at least listen in.” The meeting, whatever it was about, didn’t last long, and the lads scattered, some in one direction, others in another, and Ria could see Ed and Phil in conversation with Uncle Frank. “It must be interesting, the way they are moving their hands and Uncle Frank is nodding. Oh,” Ria sighed a minute later, as she saw Frank make a gesture and point in the direction of Codell while Ed and Phil nodded. “They are probably going to take a walk or something like that and I’ll be stuck here! Oh, why did I have to trip over that puppy!” And Ria buried her face in the cushions on the sofa and remained there for some time fighting to keep back the tears.

    She must have fallen asleep, for the next thing she heard were whispers near the window.
    “Coast is clear,” said one.
    “All right. Wait until we get the all clear from the other side.”
    Ria pushed the pillows away and looked about. The room was empty and the house quiet. Had she just dreamed she had heard voices? Footsteps cautiously approached from the dining room and Jimmy appeared, glanced around quickly and put his finger to his lips before his sister could say anything. Motioning towards the other part of the house, he whispered, “Anyone back there?”
    Ria shrugged, longing to ask what was going on but keeping quiet, for Jimmy had slipped down the hall. In a minute he returned and stepped to the screen door. “Clear.”
    “Keep watch,” another low voice replied and Jimmy disappeared outside and Uncle Frank stepped in.
    By this time Ria was sitting up, her eyes darting around and a thousand eager questions on her lips.
    “Shh,” her uncle whispered. “Don’t talk now. We haven’t a moment to lose.” Quickly he picked her up in his strong arms, being careful not to bump her injured ankle against the couch, and carried her across the room, down the hall, and into one of the guest rooms which seldom got used. Here she was set on the bed and Uncle Frank stood near the half closed door. “So far so good,” he murmured as though to himself. “But this was the easy part.”
    A tingling feeling began to race up Ria’s spine and her breath quickened. Was this some new game the gang had invented? But if so, what was it? Just when she was sure she would burst if she wasn’t allowed to ask questions, soft footsteps were heard in the hall and Ed stepped into the room and quickly closed the door behind him.
    “Two in the kitchen,” he whispered. “We’ve got to hurry before they notice!”
    “Right.” Without another word, Uncle Frank opened one of the windows and removed the screen with scarcely a sound. Then, to Ria’s astonishment, he climbed through. “Ready,” came his low voice.
    “It’s time, Sis,” Ed breathed in his sister’s ear as he lifted her in his arms.
    This was certainly the most unusual game the gang had ever invented and Ria wasn’t sure if she should be frightened and scream for help, burst out laughing or remain silent. While she was deciding what to do, Ed carried her over to the window.
    Outside Uncle Frank was waiting. “Put your arms around my neck, Ria,” he commanded softly. “Be careful of that foot.”
    Ria did as she was told and felt herself changing one set of strong arms for another. This time she was outside. “I wonder why they didn’t just carry me through the front door,” she thought, “it would have been easier.” Ed replaced the screen and closed the window before disappearing from her sight.
    “What–” she began, only to be hushed quickly.

What is the gang up to?

 Do you have any ideas?

Come back next week to find out what it's all about.

To the Farm - Part 8

Hello Friday Fiction Fans,
Are you still in summer, or has autumn come to stay? Or are you like us and have autumn for a few days and then summer returns as though it can't stand to leave us just yet. :)

It's been quite a week. From not having the right papers to get my car license renewed on Monday, to working in the nursery on Wednesday night with 11 little ones, to getting stuck on my new book, to getting unstuck again. And everything in-between. :) All in all, it's been a busy week. Last Saturday we took the four oldest grandchildren to George Washington Carver National Historic Site (That's quite a mouthful!)'s prairie days. We had fun. Each of the kids earned their Jr. Ranger badge and had a bag of things to take home. We attended a wedding that evening which was outdoors and the weather was just beautiful!

This book I'm working on is still moving. Last night I did get stuck. It had slowed down and then picked up speed a little until it came to a grinding halt. I couldn't go forward, and wasn't sure where to go if I took some things out. But, after backing up about 400 words, I switched tracks and we were off again. I ended up writing 1,231 words in 50 minutes! Not usual, though it's really fun when it happens. I'm starting to look for pictures for the cover. Right now I need a picture of a blond girl who is about 14 with either a shy smile or a sober look. The story is a winter one so she should have on a sweater or something that doesn't look summery. :) Any suggestions? Anyone know of anyone who wouldn't mind being a model?

Here's the next part of Ria and the Gang. You never know what they are going to do next. :)

To the Farm

Part 8

    “You’re it!” a voice exclaimed and a small hand slapped Fred’s arm before his younger brother Henry darted away.
    “Hey,” Phil protested, “Ria can’t play tag, so–”
    But Ria interrupted him. “Yes, I can! Oh, that will be so fun!”
    Al put a hand on his excited cousin’s arm. “Ria,” he chided, “you can’t play tag with that ankle.”
    “Yes I can. If all of the gang has to hop on one foot.” She giggled. “I might actually get to tag more than one of you because I’d have the advantage of crutches.” The picture of her tall cousins all hopping about the yard sent her into such a merry laugh that it brought the other lads over to join them.
    There was some debate about Ria’s idea. Al, Fred and Ed were opposed to the idea, while several of the others, the younger boys who were not a part of ‘the gang’ especially, thought it a fine one and the rest were unsure but ready to be persuaded one way or the other.
    “Why not, Ed?” Jack asked, folding his arms and preparing for an argument. “If we’re all hopping around, Ria isn’t going to have to go far or fast.”
    “Please, Ed,” begged Ria, looking pleadingly at her oldest brother. “I’ll be careful and I just have to do something! If I can’t do this I might–climb a tree!”
    “Feeling a might desperate, are you cousin?” Tom leaned over to whisper, and Ria nodded.
    With a sigh and a shake of his head, Ed gave in and put it to a vote on the condition that all promised not to run into Ria or knock her down. He knew how rough games of tag could be with two dozen boys all playing.
    He needn’t have worried about a rough game, for everyone was having such a difficult time hopping on one foot that the game was over in fifteen minutes. Collapsing on the porch steps or on the grass, the boys, young and old alike, indulged in a hearty burst of laughter. The sight had been so comical that it was sometime before the laughter died down and the younger boys ran off to play another game.
    “Ria,” Jimmy said, lounging back on the steps and looking up at his sister who sat on a wicker chair on the porch. “I hope you got some of your energy out because I’m not hopping around all day on one foot. It’s too exhausting.”
    Giggling, Ria nodded. “Yes, I did. You can all go along now. Thank you for playing. I think I’ll go help Grandma.” And Ria stood up and crutched her way to the door. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was tired and her ankle was really starting to ache. Perhaps playing tag hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
    Arriving later, Dr. Earl noticed how slowly Ria was moving and the slight frown on her face. “What have you been up to this morning, Ria?” he asked sitting down beside her on the sofa. No one else was in the cool room except the two of them, for the outdoors was more alluring.
    “I helped Grandma snap beans,” she said, feeling a flush creep up her neck and wishing that it were anyone else asking besides her doctor uncle.
    Earl noticed and knit his brows though his eyes twinkled. “And what else have you been doing that makes you so tired and has given a pucker to that pretty face?” When she didn’t answer right away he said, “Come on, fess up.”
    Glancing over at him, she replied, a smile curving her lips and a giggle almost escaping her. “I only played tag with the boys for a little while.”
    “Ria!”
    “It was a different kind of tag,” she made haste to explain. “Everyone had to hop on one foot and they kept falling down and grabbing on to each other. It was so funny!” And she burst into laughter, only to catch her breath at the sudden twinge her ankle gave.
    Dr. Earl scooted down on the sofa and patted the place he had vacated. “I want to see that ankle,” he said. “You were supposed to keep off of your foot, you know.”
    Reluctantly, Ria shifted and placed her injured leg on the sofa. “I did stay off of it,” she protested. “I didn’t put any weight on it. Honest. I used my–” She caught her breath as the pain raced up her leg at his first touch. “My crutches, and the others were careful around me.”
    “Humph.” Earl frowned as his skilled hands rapidly undid the last of the bandages and he looked at the swollen ankle. Glancing over at his niece, he shook his head. “Ria, Ria,” was all he said, but he reached into his bag and pulled out some fresh bandages.
    Several times Ria frowned in pain, and once she turned her head away so that her uncle wouldn’t see the tears which came as he re-bandaged the injured limb. She wouldn’t cry! The gang wouldn’t have a chance to call her a baby, but oh, how it hurt!
    Once the new bandage was on, Dr. Earl reached for a cushion and gently settled Ria’s foot upon it. “Now, I don’t want you up and moving about unless it is absolutely necessary, young lady” he ordered quietly. “Not unless you want to stay on crutches for weeks longer.” He rose.
    “But–” protested Ria, her eyes widening and feeling a sudden loss for words as she stared at her bandaged foot.
    Her uncle tipped her chin up and looked into her face. “I’m sorry, but I did tell you to take it easy and not to overdo it. I think you may have been doing a bit more at home than you should have, and this game of tag wasn’t a good idea. I’m sure you won’t be stuck here alone all day, and if someone will carry you, you can even go outside, but only if that foot remains up.”

Would you have voted for or against Ria's idea?

Have you ever played one-legged tag?

There are 2 parts left, will you be back?

To the Farm - Part 7

Hello FFFs,
Here I sit, pondering what to say. I could grow eloquent about it being Sep. 11 and how that day changed America. I remember it, and the days which followed. It seemed almost like a second Pearl Harbor, only this time the attack wasn't just against a military base, this was against everyday Americans. How many of you, dear readers remember that day and what you were doing?

But, I am going to leave the thoughtful, emotional posts for those others who want to write about it. We are facing a new day, the past is behind us. No, we shall never forget, but we cannot dwell too long on the troubling past lest we become too depressed and sad to face life today with a smile. :)

Last night was a grand night. My story "Through the Tunnel" which was going to be a short story for the blog, reached novel proportions! That means, to those of you who are staring with a confused expression at the screen, that the "short story" is now 40,000 words long! (That would be 40 weeks of posting!) No, I haven't reached the end of this novel yet, but it's coming. Some time. :) We'll see if I end up getting it finished before Christmas. Not published you understand, just written. I probably will, but I'm not sure I'll have time to actually get it published. And yes, I will let you all read the first few parts here on the blog.

That is my big news. It's been a busy week of working on my many projects. I've gotten a good bit done, but since most of these projects aren't small ones, they are going to take a while to finish. 

Oh, and by the way, if you would like to read another interview with me, just hop on over to LeAnne's blog. I'm sure she would love to have a few new readers and comments. :)

So, until next Friday, enjoy this part of:

To the Farm

Part 7

    The afternoon was quiet. Ria slept some and played seven games of Chinese checkers with her brothers and dad. She read for a while and wished she could get up and move about. The week seemed long and endless, and she dreaded it. Everyone would be busy. The boys had meetings and plans and she would be left out. Perhaps Lydia could come over one day. She sighed.
    Her father looked up from his paper. “Would you like to go to bed, Ria?” he asked.
    She nodded. “Yes, I am tired,” she admitted.
    Ed, Jimmy and Johnny all rose and came over, willing to carry her up, but Mr. Mitchell motioned them away. “Nope, this is my little girl, and I’ll carry her up to bed. You fellows will doubtless have opportunity to transport Ria when I’m at work.”
    Ria couldn’t help smiling. It felt good to have so many brothers willing to wait on her. Her mother followed them up and, after Mr. Mitchell had kissed his daughter good night and retired, Ria soon had herself settled in her bed with her injured leg on a pillow.
    “How does your ankle feel, Dear?” Mrs. Mitchell asked, brushing Ria’s dark hair off her forehead.
    “It’s not too bad now, Mama. Only when I move it by accident does it really hurt.” She yawned.
    “I’ll come in later and see how you are doing,” her mother promised before leaving her with a kiss.

    True to his word, Uncle Frank stopped by for a long visit with Ria and his sister the next day.
    “Where are Grandma and Grandpa?” Ria asked after greeting her uncle affectionately, though with less enthusiasm than she had on Saturday.
    “They’ll be along later,” Uncle Frank said, pulling up a chair near the couch where Ria lay. “They had some shopping to do first and, as I have always detested shopping, I thought I’d walk down here and wait for them.”
    “Did I ever tell you about the time I was laid up with a broken leg?”
    Ria shook her head. She enjoyed talking with her youngest uncle. He was a good story teller and also a great listener when she needed to talk.
    Turning his head as his sister walked into the room, Frank asked, “Emma, do you remember the time I broke my leg?”
    “How could I forget!”
    “Tell me, Uncle Frank, please!” begged Ria.
    “All right.” And Frank launched into a story of when he was young.

    The days passed by much faster than Ria thought was possible, for Lydia came over every day and members of the gang were always stopping by. “Aunt Emma’s” was a favorite place for the lads to gather and now that Ria was laid up, they came more often. As much as she enjoyed all the visits, Ria was heartily glad when Uncle Earl allowed her to be up on crutches and move about at will. It took her some time to manage the stairs, but she soon had no trouble.
    “At least I won’t be stuck on a couch in the living room at the farm on Saturday,” she told her mom, hobbling into the kitchen Thursday afternoon.
    “Oh, I’m sure any number of your cousins or uncles would have carried you and the couch outside, had you been stuck on one.” Emma Mitchell turned from the stove. “Would you snap some beans for me, please?”

    Saturday arrived and the entire Mitchell family set off to join the rest of the clan out at “the farm.” Even if most of Ria’s uncles and aunts lived on farms, there was only one place which was called “the farm” by everyone,and that was Grandma and Grandpa’s place. True, Grandpa didn’t farm quite as many acres as he used to, but that didn’t matter.
    Uncle Karl’s family were the only ones who had arrived when the Mitchells piled out of their car, but the others weren’t far behind.
    “I just wish Millie was here,” Ria sighed, gazing around at the crowd of boys of all sizes. She hobbled over on her crutches to the shade of a tree and gazed about. When the entire family gathered, the farm seemed to swarm with men and boys.
    “Ria, do you want to go play dress up with us?”
    Looking down, Ria saw her younger girl cousins gathering in a cluster. There were seven of them all around the same age. “No, not right now,” she told them. Watching them turn and skip off to the house, she frowned and wished, as she often had before, that some of them had been born sooner, so she could have a girl cousin her age here at home.
    “What’s that frown for, Ria,” a friendly voice asked. “Are you bemoaning the fact that you couldn’t walk here and follow that secret way?”
    “No,” Ria laughed, looking up at Fred. “I was just wishing . . . for something to do besides playing dress up with the little girls.” And she looked towards the house with a sigh.
    “What would you like to do?”
    “Climb a tree or go swing on the barn swing.”
    It was Fred’s turn to laugh. “Ria, Ria. You always have wanted to do what you couldn’t. Don’t you want to do anything else?”
    Before Ria had a chance to think of something, Al strolled over. “What plans are being made here in the shade?”
    “Nothing yet. Ria hasn’t thought of something that is workable for her ankle. She wants to climb a tree.”
    Ria grinned. “I know what I don’t want.”
    Her cousins looked at her expectantly. “I don’t want to be treated like an invalid! I’m tired of it.”
    “Just don’t overdo anything,” Al told her.
    “Or Earl will have our heads,” Fred smiled. “And yours too.”
    “Is this the French Revolution, and are you in danger of losing your heads?” A new voice asked as Phil joined the small group. “Do we need someone to rescue you?”
    “No. It’s just me wanting to do something!” Ria shifted her weight on her crutches. She hated to admit it, but her ankle was starting to ache. “I’m tired of sitting around all day.”
    The three lads exchanged glances. Surely someone could think of something she could do.

If you were one of Ria's cousins, could you think of something she could do?

What would you suggest?

What would you want to do if you were Ria?

To the Farm - Part 6

And good morning to you, Faithful Friday Fiction Fans!

It's good to be home again. We did have a lovely time with my grandparents, and I was able to get quite a bit done on the new HUGE project that I mentioned last week. This book I'm compiling of all those bike trips, well, it's growing. Last week I had 24 trips to include in the book. (A lot, but I could handle it.) Now I'm up to 39+! (Yeah, I told you it was huge.) Not all the trips have pictures, but nearly all have my grandpa's diary which all have to be typed up. Some trips have my grandma's diary too, as well as pictures, maps, newspaper articles, an uncle's diary or a combination of some of the above.
So with that and the large quilting project I need to get done in 3 months, I really don't have a lot of time to devote to new books. I'm still writing (because I can't NOT write) but publishing is taking a back seat for now.

We are back to summer weather here. Our lovely taste of autumn has slipped into a memory and we turned on the air conditioning once more. 

Those of you have left comments on this blog last week, thank you. I wanted to reply, but things were quite busy and I wasn't on the computer much, so I didn't get to it. But, if you leave comments this week, I hope to be able to reply to them. :) 

I hope you enjoy this next part. It's a good thing this is a long story or I'm afraid I'd run out of things to post. :P Happy reading!

To the Farm

Part 6

    Hardly had they finished eating when the doorbell rang. Mr. Mitchell went to answer it as Mrs. Mitchell and Johnny, who had volunteered to help instead of Ria, were busy clearing off the table.
    “Good evening, Earl,” Ria heard her father greet their visitor, and she knit her brows and glanced at Ed. He was looking at Jimmy with raised eyebrows and a look a surprise on his face.
    “Evie wanted me to bring this to Emma,” Earl was heard to say.
    Then Emma’s voice came through the open door, “Oh, thank you. I was needing that. Are you in a special hurry?”
    Ria sighed. As much as she wanted something done to make her ankle feel better, somehow having Uncle Earl look at it forced her to face reality; she wouldn’t be playing baseball with her cousins next week. So busy were her thoughts that she didn’t notice what was being said in the living room until her father called for Ed to carry Ria in.
    Ed smiled sympathetically at his sister. He knew from experience that sprained ankles could be very painful.
    Dr. Earl grinned at his niece as he pulled up a stool beside the sofa where Ed had placed her. “I hear you were injured in the line of duty, young lady,” he began. “Let’s see how bad it is.” Gently he felt her ankle. It was so swollen that he had to resort to a knife to cut the sock off.
    Ria made no cry as her ankle was examined, though the pain caused her to clench her hands, and at one point her uncle remarked, “You know, Ria, it really would help if you breathed. At least now and then.” In her effort to hold back any cries of pain, she had unintentionally been holding her breath.
    She gave a slight giggle and then frowned in pain.
    In a few minutes, her ankle was firmly bandaged and resting on a pillow, and her uncle stood up. “That is a nasty sprain, Ria. I’m afraid you will have to stay off of it for at least three weeks.”
    “Three weeks,” Ria groaned, thinking of all that she would have to miss.
    “I didn’t say you were confined to a couch,” Uncle Earl laughed. “In a day or two you can probably move about some with crutches. But,” he added, “no putting that foot to the ground until I give you leave. Is that clear?” Earl, sounding more like a doctor instead of just an uncle, glanced about at the others as he spoke.
    Everyone nodded though Ria made a face. It would be a long three weeks, she thought, but maybe she could move about on crutches by Saturday. Then at least she wouldn’t be quite at the mercy of her teasing cousins.
    “What about tomorrow, Earl?” Mitch asked his young brother-in-law.
    “Keep her home,” was the blunt reply. “I’ll come over after church to take another look.”

    Ria didn’t sleep very well that night for her ankle pained her a great deal. After her mother had left and the house was quiet, she turned her head and buried her face in her pillow and cried. It had been a long day, and to end it with the knowledge that she wouldn’t be doing all the things she had planned, was hard. When her cry was over, she was able to sleep some until, trying to turn over, sharp stabs of pain shot through her whole leg and brought her instantly awake. Biting her lip, she bore the pain in silence so as not to wake the others.
    Her thoughts went over the day again and the fun she had expected to have at the farm next Saturday. “Now I’ll be stuck in a chair like an invalid,” she moaned. “Why, oh why did I have to sprain my ankle today?”
    Finally, just as the sun was beginning to turn the clouds a rosy pink, Ria fell into a sound sleep. She didn’t even hear her brothers and father leave for church.

    When they returned, Ed ran up to see Ria. He had missed his little sister who usually shared a hymnbook with him. “Hi,” he greeted her with a smile when he poked his head in her half open door. “Would you like to spend some time on the couch?”
    “Yes!” Ria was tired of her room even though her mom had spent the morning with her. At least downstairs she could look out the window and be somewhat involved in the conversations. Putting her arms around her brother’s neck, she let him lift her in his strong arms.
    “Does it still hurt much?” Ed asked softly.
    “Yes. But don’t tell the gang.”
    Ed smiled and promised “I won’t.”
    Once Ria was established on the couch before the large windows in the living room, her father came in. “Hello, Ria,” he greeted her, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “You were missed at church today. Emma and Lucy wanted to know where you were, as did almost every other one of the younger cousins. Uncle Frank said to tell you he’d stop by tomorrow if you’d like some company, and Grandma and Grandpa promised to come with him.” Mr. Mitchell drew up a chair, sat down and went on. “Several others asked about you.”
    “And everyone of the gang said to say they missed you,” Jimmy put in, stepping from the kitchen with a tray of lunch for his sister.
    “And don’t forget Lydia,” Johnny added. “She stopped me and asked where you were.”
    Looking down at her tray of lunch, Ria asked, “Can’t you all eat in here too? I want to hear about everyone and I can’t if you are in the dining room. Please, Mom!” she added as Mrs. Mitchell looked through the doorway.
    With a smile, Emma nodded. She had already decided that a solitary lunch would not suit Ria very well, for her daughter was a social girl who liked to be in the middle of almost everything.
    They were still eating when Dr. Earl and Evie arrived.
    “Ria!” Evie exclaimed almost as soon as she entered the house. “You were sadly missed at church this morning. How are you feeling?”
    “Full.” Ria pushed her empty plate to the farther side of her tray. Then she winced. Any slight movement or touch on her ankle or foot sent waves of pain racing up her leg.
    “Have you both eaten?” Emma asked, starting to rise.
    “Oh, yes.” Evie waved her sister aside and took Ria’s try herself. “With only two of us to fix lunch for, it doesn’t take as long. Besides, I’ve learned how to eat like a doctor.” Her merry laugh rang through the room and her husband looked up at her, a quizzical expression on his face.
    “How does one eat?” He ventured to ask.
    “Always in a hurry.”
    It was impossible for the others not to join in the laugh.

Do you know anyone who always eats in a hurry?

Have you had to miss church because of an injury?

Do you want to return next week?