Everyone needs to learn survival
By
LEO PONDER
I leaped the log in hot pursuit, tree limbs slapping my face, my home made spear at the ready. Bramble burrs snatched at my trousers, reducing my speed, but with surges of super effort, I managed to keep my prey in sight.
I was nearly dead with hunger and I knew that this might be my last really
good chance to snare a decent meal. I had been reduced to some kind of pre-historic monster forced kill for my food. In other better times, I would have been nauseated by the level of savagery that I had now sunk. I had no qualms about what I would do if I caught this prey. I would snap the neck, tear out the heart and wolf down my spoils with much relish and blood.
Suddenly, I came upon a clearing that ended at the brushy banks of a river just in time to see my prey disappear in the brush. In two or three bounds I crossed the clearing to the spot where it had entered. My heart dropped. It wasn’t a river, just a small stream. It would escape by running downstream. What rotten luck! He would have been trapped if it had been a river!
But I hadn’t been trained by the best to be outwitted by even such an intelligent animal as this. An animal that was so ferocious that nothing could withstand it’s attack. I knew exactly now what it was up to. It was not running but circling to gain an advantage. I had to admire it, even though at the moment we were mortal enemies.
I wheeled and headed across the clearing to cut him off downstream. It was my only hope. This species had never been known to cut a chase and run scared. It didn’t ever consider itself prey. That’s how many had died violent deaths, just at the moment of seeming victory.
It was legend that this particular beast had psychic powers that defied
Explanation. Probably not true but I seemed to hear my name from a distance during the chase. If it was true I would just have to ignore it. I remembered the old adage, “Sticks and stones (and beasts) will break my bones, but names will never hurt me.”
Crossing the clearing to the right I slid down the bank into the small stream, my heart thudding like jungle drums announcing terrible news. What if I was wrong? What if the beast went upstream instead of down? But that would be stupid. They know their scent would wash downstream giving away their location. Firmly anchored in my survival techniques, I decided that I was in exactly the right spot.
I found a flat heavy rock with a deep hole in the middle and pushed the butt of my home made spear firmly into the indentation. I positioned the rock on the stream bed with the spear pointing straight up. On my knees I grabbed the spear firmly in both hands. Now I had a strong, deadly trap that would easily pierce the toughest skin. If and when the beast sprang, and these always did, I would guide the spear straight to his heart
Sitting quietly, I noticed that darkness was not long off. I could not see to the far end of the stream but considered that an advantage. If the beast came close without seeing me, then I could pull the old surprise bit by making a sudden noise when he was close, he would spring from instinct and without any caution.
Suddenly, again, I heard my name. This time it was very close. O.K. names won’t hurt. I cut my breathing to small gulps but my heart wouldn’t co-operate. It felt like a sledgehammer.
This was it! Here he comes! Moving so stealthily and furtively, he seemed to be part of the stream. Thank God for my training. He stopped very near, huge gathering muscles preparing for attack. He had seen me but I could still use the spear for the strike. My name-My name, right behind me. He must be trying to confuse me so he can spring! So that’s how so many have lost their battle with this brute. And never lived to tell anyone. But I will be smarter, I will not look behind me. I will kill this thing and live.
He sprang! Something behind me cuffed my ear and I broke the spear in the rock where it fell useless, into the rippling stream.
Watching the beast in mid air, knowing I had only a split second to live, I at least wanted to know what had caused my demise. I twisted to look behind and seen the most awful sight a small boy could behold in those circumstances. My Mother!!
Hey! Hey! I’ve been calling and calling. Sakes alive, boy, can’t you hear at all! There’s more of that you just got on your ear when we get home. Get up out of that water. I done told you not play in this creek again. Now trot yourself straight home and call that good for nothing dog with you. He’s just as muddy as you. Lord, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you two. You’re going to take your bath and go straight to bed without any supper.”
If she had been only a few minutes later, and not interfered I would have had my supper.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Saturday, October 17, 2009
THE DUMB NEIGHBOR AND THE SMART NEIGHBOR
THE DUMB NEIGHBOR AND THE SMART NEIGHBOR
By
Leo Ponder
My dimwitted, redneck neighbor across the street was waving frantically for me to come over. He was sitting in that stupid car seat from a ‘57 chevy in his front yard.
Desperately I tried to think of some excuse and continue my now frantic watering with
renewed interest, but my name wafting on the late evening stillness stopped any attempt to ignore him.
“Hey, Bud”
“Over here”
I stabbed at my chest and mouthed in a last ditch maneuver.
“Me”
“Yeah, c’mon over. I got a cold one”
The last time I was over for a neighborly chat we discussed upholstering the chevy
seat and how he was going to acquire the rest of the car, piece by piece. (oh, I forgot
he did have a mangled 283 chevy engine which would fit a ‘57) After that visit I found
myself comparing him with the engine. Both were a quart low and slow.
Resigning myself to the inevitable, I turned the spigot shutting off the water, and ambled across the street. He jumped up and disappeared into his house. An instant later he was out with a beer in each hand. Well, I thought, the beer was cold and it had been a warm evening. I poured half the can down in one gulp. At least maybe the beer would numb my brain. And maybe this time he would have something human to
say. As usual, I was wrong.
“What’cha doing, Bub”
(Oh I’m out practicing my walk in space using my water hose as a mock thruster, after my liftoff on the Endeavor next week)
“Just doing a little watering”
I totally expected his next question to be, “What’cha watering.” I couldn’t even begin to go there for my answer. But he fooled me.
“Yeah, my grass needs it too”
(Well Gotta go, I could say, draining the rest of the brew, my grass is dying)
“Wait” He dashed in and returned with another can.
“Hey, man looked like you need another one, you downed that so fast. Sit down and sip a little slower. I only got two more” He pointed at what looked like two new $4.98 lawn chairs from wal-mart. I sat. Wondering why.
“You can be the first to sit in my new chairs from wal-mart”, he affirmed my suspicions.
“Thanks,” I muttered, “I haven’t done that in a while”
“They are still on sale if you want one. $4.98 Great, huh?” He grinned.
“I had a little left over from the sale of my land, so I purchased those chairs with it”
“You sold your land?,“ I asked incredulously. “That prize acre you have had for 15 years,
that all the businesses have been surrounding”
“Yeah, 5,000 smackers”
“5,000 dollars? You said you were offered that much 10 yrs. back. If you had kept it, you probably could have sold it for much more” I now realized what a poor business man he was too.
“Well, I got a little anxious. It only cost me 500 bucks back then.
Well what could you expect, I thought, from someone that bought 4.98 wal-mart
chairs.
“And you only got two chairs” I asked, afraid of the answer.
“Oh, no,” now he became excited, “I got more than that. Wait, I’ll show you. Be right
back. From our previous boring conversations I fully expected him to return with the
title to a dilapidated ‘57 chevy or worse yet two more chairs. He did neither.
He came back holding a crumpled looking letter. What stupid thing did he do?
Send off for some movie star autograph or what?
“Remember that old man that works with me? The one that still had a family, some still in school? I talked about him having to work at his age? Remember?
In wonderment I nodded.
“Well he almost died last week. He was in the hospital and his wife and three kids didn’t
have a car to visit him so I took them for a visit. You know they are very poor. Well
read it”
His face was beaming as he shoved the letter in my hand. I read it.
Dear Sir,
We don’t know much about you except what John has mentioned from his job,
but we know that you were sent from God. His new Pacemaker is perfect and the Dr.
said it was a miracle that he lived long enough for him to implant it.
He will be out of the hospital tomorrow, and the Dr. said he would be able to live a
normal life and even go back to work. If he had died we would have been grief stricken
and don’t know what we would have done. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for
paying for it. We’re sorry it took all your money. We don’t know how but maybe God will let us re-pay you someday even though you have said to forget it. You are truly a
gift from God.
God Bless You,
Edna and children
As I read, my own stupidity crushed upon my brain and I felt worthless against the
charity of my stupid neighbor. He was right. He did have more, much more than two
chairs, one of which would hold a vain and holier than thou neighbor. He had the letter
and he had a big heart. A heart that I was convinced would never need a “Pacemaker”
I stood up. He was still standing there beaming and as excited as if someone had just
presented him with a brand new ‘57 chevy.
I asked him if he would do one more small favor.
“Sure,” he said, still beaming with that enviable happiness that few shrewd business men
experience.
“Shake my hand,” I said
“Sure,” he agreed, taking my hand, looking a little perplexed but still happy.
“I gotta go,” I said. I turned and walked hurriedly away.
“What’s the hurry,” He yelled, in his idiotic way. “You didn’t finish the beer”
“I have to go learn all I can about building a ‘57 chevy,” I yelled back.
“All Right” He was pumping his fist in the air and grinning
By
Leo Ponder
My dimwitted, redneck neighbor across the street was waving frantically for me to come over. He was sitting in that stupid car seat from a ‘57 chevy in his front yard.
Desperately I tried to think of some excuse and continue my now frantic watering with
renewed interest, but my name wafting on the late evening stillness stopped any attempt to ignore him.
“Hey, Bud”
“Over here”
I stabbed at my chest and mouthed in a last ditch maneuver.
“Me”
“Yeah, c’mon over. I got a cold one”
The last time I was over for a neighborly chat we discussed upholstering the chevy
seat and how he was going to acquire the rest of the car, piece by piece. (oh, I forgot
he did have a mangled 283 chevy engine which would fit a ‘57) After that visit I found
myself comparing him with the engine. Both were a quart low and slow.
Resigning myself to the inevitable, I turned the spigot shutting off the water, and ambled across the street. He jumped up and disappeared into his house. An instant later he was out with a beer in each hand. Well, I thought, the beer was cold and it had been a warm evening. I poured half the can down in one gulp. At least maybe the beer would numb my brain. And maybe this time he would have something human to
say. As usual, I was wrong.
“What’cha doing, Bub”
(Oh I’m out practicing my walk in space using my water hose as a mock thruster, after my liftoff on the Endeavor next week)
“Just doing a little watering”
I totally expected his next question to be, “What’cha watering.” I couldn’t even begin to go there for my answer. But he fooled me.
“Yeah, my grass needs it too”
(Well Gotta go, I could say, draining the rest of the brew, my grass is dying)
“Wait” He dashed in and returned with another can.
“Hey, man looked like you need another one, you downed that so fast. Sit down and sip a little slower. I only got two more” He pointed at what looked like two new $4.98 lawn chairs from wal-mart. I sat. Wondering why.
“You can be the first to sit in my new chairs from wal-mart”, he affirmed my suspicions.
“Thanks,” I muttered, “I haven’t done that in a while”
“They are still on sale if you want one. $4.98 Great, huh?” He grinned.
“I had a little left over from the sale of my land, so I purchased those chairs with it”
“You sold your land?,“ I asked incredulously. “That prize acre you have had for 15 years,
that all the businesses have been surrounding”
“Yeah, 5,000 smackers”
“5,000 dollars? You said you were offered that much 10 yrs. back. If you had kept it, you probably could have sold it for much more” I now realized what a poor business man he was too.
“Well, I got a little anxious. It only cost me 500 bucks back then.
Well what could you expect, I thought, from someone that bought 4.98 wal-mart
chairs.
“And you only got two chairs” I asked, afraid of the answer.
“Oh, no,” now he became excited, “I got more than that. Wait, I’ll show you. Be right
back. From our previous boring conversations I fully expected him to return with the
title to a dilapidated ‘57 chevy or worse yet two more chairs. He did neither.
He came back holding a crumpled looking letter. What stupid thing did he do?
Send off for some movie star autograph or what?
“Remember that old man that works with me? The one that still had a family, some still in school? I talked about him having to work at his age? Remember?
In wonderment I nodded.
“Well he almost died last week. He was in the hospital and his wife and three kids didn’t
have a car to visit him so I took them for a visit. You know they are very poor. Well
read it”
His face was beaming as he shoved the letter in my hand. I read it.
Dear Sir,
We don’t know much about you except what John has mentioned from his job,
but we know that you were sent from God. His new Pacemaker is perfect and the Dr.
said it was a miracle that he lived long enough for him to implant it.
He will be out of the hospital tomorrow, and the Dr. said he would be able to live a
normal life and even go back to work. If he had died we would have been grief stricken
and don’t know what we would have done. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for
paying for it. We’re sorry it took all your money. We don’t know how but maybe God will let us re-pay you someday even though you have said to forget it. You are truly a
gift from God.
God Bless You,
Edna and children
As I read, my own stupidity crushed upon my brain and I felt worthless against the
charity of my stupid neighbor. He was right. He did have more, much more than two
chairs, one of which would hold a vain and holier than thou neighbor. He had the letter
and he had a big heart. A heart that I was convinced would never need a “Pacemaker”
I stood up. He was still standing there beaming and as excited as if someone had just
presented him with a brand new ‘57 chevy.
I asked him if he would do one more small favor.
“Sure,” he said, still beaming with that enviable happiness that few shrewd business men
experience.
“Shake my hand,” I said
“Sure,” he agreed, taking my hand, looking a little perplexed but still happy.
“I gotta go,” I said. I turned and walked hurriedly away.
“What’s the hurry,” He yelled, in his idiotic way. “You didn’t finish the beer”
“I have to go learn all I can about building a ‘57 chevy,” I yelled back.
“All Right” He was pumping his fist in the air and grinning
Thursday, October 15, 2009
A Chapter a week From My book
I will publish a Chapter from my Book (Mother Nature) whenever I can. I will leave the first
Chapter up until I get enough followers.
Every other week or so I will include a little humor since the book is a bit gruesome.
I will publish one of my Dozens of Articles mostly on humorous situations in Ordinary
Family Life. I hope you can relate
The first installment will include the first and second Chapters of "Mother Nature". Enjoy (I hope.
-----------------------------------CHAPTER I--------------------------------------
It was a terrifying night. Kaleidoscopes of eerie lightning annealed perfectly to
the steady staccato of thunder. The wind conspired to drive the rain into a seething
cauldron of images that formed and just as swiftly disappeared, creating the effect of
malevolent spirits drifting in and out of a tempest. Neither man nor beast ventured
forth from their abodes as a seemingly angry Mother Nature proclaimed her unchallenged
supremacy. Except for Cato. It was a perfect night for his growing needs. Needs that had
almost become uncontrollable lately since the last big storm. He would be satisfied tonight, that is until the next “advent” as he called it. Tonight was a “factor three”. It had
to be or he would perish. Three beings spirits would become entwined with his and his
destiny would rise to higher plateaus of Godliness, finally acquiring the supreme state
of God to whom all worship flows. The storm was a sign that it was true. He would not fail!
-----------------------------------CHAPTER 2-----------------------------------
As first light filtered through the rising mists of early morning, the city was eerily quiet, awakening was slow as if the inhabitants were making up for lost sleep after a night of being kept awake by the brutal storm. Limbs from the beautiful pin oaks that lined the
boulevards lay scattered indiscriminately stripped by a formidable force of nature. Some
huge trees, weakened by the long drought, had toppled across the streets, giving up hundreds of years of life to the whims of one maniacal weather event. But the city would
recover and life would resume. Unknowingly, as yet, to recover from this night, the still sleeping city would have to dig deeper than a few torn branches, they would also have to delve into the unknown mysteries of twisted and psychopathic human nature.
And on Elm Street it was quiet. An older car pulled into the drive of 1108, the lights flicked off, a figure emerged and trudged up the walk toward the side door, hugging a large paper bag. A slight jingle of keys broke the stillness and the door opens slightly as the figure fumbled with the light switch just inside.
Marie Alice Trent, 46, mother of five, devout Sunday school teacher, loyal personal maid and winner of last night’s twenty five dollar church bingo jackpot is about to meet the substance from which nightmares are made, changing her life forever.
Backing into the now well lit kitchen, she deposited the bag of cleaning supplies on the counter next to the door, inserted her thumb under the strap of her shoulder bag and set it beside the paper bag. Closing the door quietly she turned toward the interior of the immaculate kitchen finally facing the table with it’s gruesome contents. Three manikins, so she thought since they were headless, sat back to back in the middle of the huge cherry
wood table. A table that she had polished and cleaned meticulously, countless times. She tried to scream but was cut short by the smell of fresh blood and death. It was a silent scream. She turned, flung open the door and stumbled down the side walk toward her car.
Three blocks away a fast food and gas clerk just opening his business for the day
received his first customer. A terrified, incoherent and distraught Mary Alice Trent, unemployed personal maid at 1108 Elm.
As the morning deepened into a sullen overcast the chainsaws started the ritual
of clean up and in the distance the sirens announced a ritual of their own.
Chapter up until I get enough followers.
Every other week or so I will include a little humor since the book is a bit gruesome.
I will publish one of my Dozens of Articles mostly on humorous situations in Ordinary
Family Life. I hope you can relate
The first installment will include the first and second Chapters of "Mother Nature". Enjoy (I hope.
-----------------------------------CHAPTER I--------------------------------------
It was a terrifying night. Kaleidoscopes of eerie lightning annealed perfectly to
the steady staccato of thunder. The wind conspired to drive the rain into a seething
cauldron of images that formed and just as swiftly disappeared, creating the effect of
malevolent spirits drifting in and out of a tempest. Neither man nor beast ventured
forth from their abodes as a seemingly angry Mother Nature proclaimed her unchallenged
supremacy. Except for Cato. It was a perfect night for his growing needs. Needs that had
almost become uncontrollable lately since the last big storm. He would be satisfied tonight, that is until the next “advent” as he called it. Tonight was a “factor three”. It had
to be or he would perish. Three beings spirits would become entwined with his and his
destiny would rise to higher plateaus of Godliness, finally acquiring the supreme state
of God to whom all worship flows. The storm was a sign that it was true. He would not fail!
-----------------------------------CHAPTER 2-----------------------------------
As first light filtered through the rising mists of early morning, the city was eerily quiet, awakening was slow as if the inhabitants were making up for lost sleep after a night of being kept awake by the brutal storm. Limbs from the beautiful pin oaks that lined the
boulevards lay scattered indiscriminately stripped by a formidable force of nature. Some
huge trees, weakened by the long drought, had toppled across the streets, giving up hundreds of years of life to the whims of one maniacal weather event. But the city would
recover and life would resume. Unknowingly, as yet, to recover from this night, the still sleeping city would have to dig deeper than a few torn branches, they would also have to delve into the unknown mysteries of twisted and psychopathic human nature.
And on Elm Street it was quiet. An older car pulled into the drive of 1108, the lights flicked off, a figure emerged and trudged up the walk toward the side door, hugging a large paper bag. A slight jingle of keys broke the stillness and the door opens slightly as the figure fumbled with the light switch just inside.
Marie Alice Trent, 46, mother of five, devout Sunday school teacher, loyal personal maid and winner of last night’s twenty five dollar church bingo jackpot is about to meet the substance from which nightmares are made, changing her life forever.
Backing into the now well lit kitchen, she deposited the bag of cleaning supplies on the counter next to the door, inserted her thumb under the strap of her shoulder bag and set it beside the paper bag. Closing the door quietly she turned toward the interior of the immaculate kitchen finally facing the table with it’s gruesome contents. Three manikins, so she thought since they were headless, sat back to back in the middle of the huge cherry
wood table. A table that she had polished and cleaned meticulously, countless times. She tried to scream but was cut short by the smell of fresh blood and death. It was a silent scream. She turned, flung open the door and stumbled down the side walk toward her car.
Three blocks away a fast food and gas clerk just opening his business for the day
received his first customer. A terrified, incoherent and distraught Mary Alice Trent, unemployed personal maid at 1108 Elm.
As the morning deepened into a sullen overcast the chainsaws started the ritual
of clean up and in the distance the sirens announced a ritual of their own.
Chapter I
My Blog (original huh?)
Would you click here if I asked you to. I found this astounding and a little scary.
Click Here
http://littleurl.net/194963
Click Here
http://littleurl.net/194963
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