Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: PICNIC - deadline 7-12-12 @ 9:59 AM NY Time (07/05/12)
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TITLE: Lunch on Grandpa's Mountain | Previous Challenge Entry
By Dannie Hawley
07/07/12 -
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“C’mon, girls; let’s get to chores while Grandma finishes up her bread.” Funny how the odor of the barn dried up my eyes, isn’t it? Laughing at the new piglets playing in their pen took away my tummy-ache. Why would city grown-ups say the funny smell of pigs makes them sick?
We finished chores and made our way back to the house. The moment we opened the screen door, the aroma of freshly baked bread hit me. “I was just about to put these sandwiches in the picnic basket. Do you still want to eat on the mountain or did Grandpa work you too hard so you need a rest?” Eyeballing the thick slices of homemade bread used for the tuna sandwiches, I clapped and jumped up and down. How much better they would taste on the mountain.
“We’re not tired, Grandma! Put the sandwiches in the basket, please.” One-by-one the two halves of each sandwich were placed in the woven straw basket. Grandma had lined it with red and white gingham cloth, a second piece for a covering.
We skipped to the front door where Grandma offered us the handle of the picnic basket. She gave us the familiar warning to go around and come up the backside of the mountain, ‘cuz there was a deep canyon in front.
I helped carry the picnic basket until we started up the mountain; but, then, I had to let go. It was my sister’s job to carry it up the narrow path ‘cuz she was seven. At last, we were next to the tree. The space was a little rocky, but it was easy to clear away a place to sit.
“Do ya think Grandma and Grandpa come up here to have lunch sometimes? I’d come every day if I lived here.” My sister said she didn’t think they ever took the time to have picnics. “Do ya think they’re too old for picnics?” This was a worry to me ’cuz I’d heard people die when they’re too old but didn’t know what number that was. Grandma already had two five’s in her number and I only had one.
“Can you just eat? I dunno if they’re too old but you ask too many questions.”
Tugging on the brim of my cowboy hat like I’d seen Grandpa do, I settled myself down for a few quiet bites. With the sounds of mooing cows and screeching chickens not far off, I scanned the mountain for any sign of squirrels. I couldn’t see any from where I sat, so I stood to go a little higher.
“Hey, sit down. Where do ya think you’re goin’?”
“Just up there; I want to check for squirrels.”
“Finish your sandwich first.”
Holding up my half-eaten sandwich, I reminded her, “Picnics are for eatin’ standin’, sittin’, or walkin’, don’t ya know?” I reckon she didn’t know, and, boy, did she take her job to watch out for me seriously.
“C’mon back here, right now! You know you’re not supposed to go to the top.” I took three more quick steps up, whirled around for a fast check and returned to my sister. “Did ya see anything up there?” Ah-ha! She did want to go to the top, too. That’s when I decided it must be really hard to be the big sister. I mean, it was her job to keep me from doing the very thing she’d like to do herself.
Except for a few grasshoppers and assorted tiny bugs, there wasn’t much interesting on the mountain that day. We finished our sandwiches and headed back to have the usual dessert of milk and cookies with Grandpa and Grandma.
Returning as an adult, I discovered that our mountain had been a sprawling, 10-foot high pile of rocky earth, located about 20 yards from Grandpa’s front door. Our deep canyon resulted from the removal of that dirt. Still, it was a marvelous place for young children to enjoy a picnic lunch on a warm summer’s day.
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A True Story
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Retelling memories can be hard because you are doing it from an adult POV. I chuckled at the epiphany at the end but I felt like the voice had changed. I'm not quite sure how to resolve it. Part of me wants to see the story from the eyes of a five year old but another part enjoys it more from the viewpoint and wisdom of an adult. Perhaps the narrative could be in the adult's voice and the dialog in the child's.
Though even that tiny detail is no big deal. It didn't interrupt the flow of the story for me at all. I absolutely loved that you used cuz instead of the more proper cause because it is how one says it, with that harsh z sound at the end. It really helped me to get inside the mind of the little five year old. I also enjoyed the subtle, yet wise, message. I struggle with what the next phase of my life will be like. But you showed me that life changes but also the way we see things changes. What sage advice for me to remember that what may feel like an insurmountable mountain to me right now may only be a pile of dirt when I look at it through wise eyes. The timing of this message is absolutely perfect for me right now. God is amazing at how all of these "coincidences" just happened to come together for me to hear His voice in your words at the exact time I needed them and more important was ready to hear them. :)
It's nice to look back to simpler times...
Wing His Words!
I too am amazed at the way we view the size of things when we are small. God made a child's life full of wonder, didn't He?
You nailed the topic while you took many of us for a sweet ride down "memory lane." Nicely done, thank you for sharing this touching story.
God Bless~
it made me remember some picnics my brother and I had with the neighbor boys. But can I have a PB&J instead of Tuna?
I loved this all the way through. A few superfluous commas interrupted the flow only slightly, but I thought you wrapped it up beautifully. Excellent work which should rate well.