Monthly Archives: August 2022

FF – Heck of a Shadow

Bit of a cheat this week; I couldn’t figure out how to cut this one shorter without losing a favourite line, so I took the last one and made it the title. I hope you’ll forgive me! 😉

Photo copyright David Stewart

Heck of a shadow them towers cast. Longer now than when they was standing.

I ain’t never been out East, it’s a heck of a journey and the girls wouldn’t like it. Who’d bring ’em in? Milk ’em? Help bring their littl’uns into the world?
So I didn’t see them towers when they was there and I sure ain’t seeing ’em now they gone. More concrete in that hole in the ground than this entire prairie, I’d say.
But they hit me when they fell. James was gonna run the farm when I’s gone; but he did his part and they sent him home forever, just like his granddaddy, and his grandaddy’s daddy before.

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FF – Earth’s Finest

I missed last week to fight off a virus you might have heard of. Yes, 2.5 years in, I finally caught covid. I’m grateful for the vaccines, I was pretty grotty for a while there, so I’m glad it wasn’t worse. Getting better now, but lots to catch up on, in particular about a million boxes still to unpack and the kids are antsy because we haven’t unearthed their bike helmets yet.

But I can’t miss 2 weeks of FF or I’ll lose the habit, so here’s my 100 word story.

Photo copyright Brenda Cox

Earth’s Finest

“ALL LOCAL PRODUCE” the sign says. “LOWER YOUR CARBON FOOTPRINT… SAVE OUR PLANET” and a little chalk globe, green and blue vaguely indicating land and sea without committing themselves to which of either.

Cardboard straws annoy me and I sometimes forget my own cup, but I’m trying, so I step inside, study the delicious cuisine on offer, inhale the scents of planet-saving food.

The guy behind the desk tells me how dropping our food miles reduces island flooding. He pauses to take a swig from his water and the whole world crashes down. 500ml of hypocrisy, from 5000 miles away.

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FF – Customer Service

Image copyright Roger Bultot

Customer Service

There’s a narrow window when it’s great to eat out. Not too cold, or too hot; it isn’t raining, and the wasps haven’t started to swarm, the mozzies aren’t biting and the pigeons aren’t dropping extra toppings onto your dessert.

And then there’s the rest of the year, when there’s always one couple. “Can we sit outside?” they sound apologetic. They sound like I could say no and they’d accept my advice.

And then they seem shocked when conditions mean they have to dash in, panicking. And they don’t even know about the extra toppings I’ve added to their dessert.

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