Author’s Note: Welcome back for another week. Since the week isn’t over, and tomorrow’s not a busy day, my next major story will hopefully be ready to go. Otherwise, enjoy this tune. For note, the picture below is courtesy of the man who got me blogging again, Mr. David Stewart at the Green Walled Tower.
Life In A Northern Town
by Miles H. Rost
It wasn’t a normal day. The old timers in the band were finishing up their practice a bit later than they should have, and were not really interested in taking time with the stragglers outside the gazebo.
“…but we love your work! We’re your greatest fans!” two young children ran up, getting close to one of the tuba players.
“You’re my grandchildren! Of course you’re gonna be my greatest fans!” the crotchety old tubist replied, trying to get away.
“Lars! Get home this instant, your swedish meatballs are getting cold!” another older woman called, in a near scream.
“I’ll be there in a moment, Helga! Stop breaking the glass!”
Simple life, in a Northern town.
Very “simple” indeed. Great story!
Sometimes, the simplest things need to be said. 🙂
Just to clarify, I didn’t mean simple like plain, I meant it ironically. I did really like it!
Aye, happen them southern jessies wouldn’t understand. Ecky thump. 😉
That’s an interesting town. I especially liked the screech threatening to break glass. 🙂
Helga is known for it. Trust me.
You obviously know how life goes down, up in t’north.
I lived in Central Minnesota for many years. Go a slight bit north, and you have….that. XD
Ha.. You know we always throw meatballs at each other here in the far north.
Up where I used to be, it was smacking each other with buttered lefse. XD
I’m headed south, thank you. Nice picture you painted.
We’ve got a lot of Scandinavian immigrants in this area. You’d fit in nicely, you Rost, you. Thanks for the shout out. 🙂