tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41973246176310056842024-03-13T19:02:42.958-07:00Our CloverdaleWelcome to my home away from home. Cloverdale is a village of the bewildered, where people are friendly, the coffee is hot, and bread is baked fresh daily.Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.comBlogger531125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-69102525512536493022016-11-05T16:49:00.003-07:002016-11-06T11:53:02.123-07:00Penny Plum, Princess of Apricot Lane.<div style="text-align: center;">
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Penny Plum, Princess of Apricot Lane, arrived at the beach. She surveyed the landscape and thought how lucky the other holidaymakers were to have her in attendance that afternoon. After all, her talent and reputation always preceded her. It is well known on Apricot Lane that Penny was the class president of Cloverdale Elementary's somewhat advanced first grade pull out program. Her art work using crayons on white with highlights in marker decorate the walls in the first grade wing. Of course other lesser known works hung beside hers; Penny attributed that to the teacher's responsibility to promote the less talented as some academic study to promote self esteem. Showing unselfishness while at the same time mastering self promotion was Penny's mantra. The balancing of truth with well meaning lies were necessary if one was to live amongst mortals.<br />
The sea loomed gray before her, framed by a ribbon of sand as far as the eye could see. She held her bucket and spade while daintily taking hold of the chain banister with her plump diminutive hand. Smiling contentedly, she descended toward the sand below. First one foot, then the other, as she slowly navigated toward the beach.</div>
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"Artists paint, sculptors make statues, and musicians write music," Penny explained to her teacher one day. She listed them one by one on her pudgy yet graceful fingers. Pausing as she wondered how to explain her talent before continuing. "I make art with sand mixed with just the right amount of water," she said, pleased with herself. While she spoke she adjusted her pink little dress. Appearance was important to Penny; believing there was a place for everything and that everything had to be in its place.</div>
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She wasn't alone. The beach had its usual number of weekend vacationers, although not as many as Penny had hoped, but it was an audience nevertheless. From the top of the stairs she noticed a handful of amateurs at work molding sand castles. Penny ignored the talentless, whose work wasn’t worthy of a snapshot in any family album. Her creations, on the other hand, were legend in the shire. A Penny Plum sand creation normally drew scores of admirers from her fellow beach goers. Pictures of her work lined the walls of her home. It was the attention and adoration Penny needed. After all, she was the Princess of Apricot Lane.</div>
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Penny Plum was the only girl in a family of seven children. And being the youngest, she had a special position in the family hierarchy. The six brothers considered her a master at using her privileged position in the family against them. They lost count of the many times they were disciplined for offenses they didn’t commit based solely on Penny's testimony. On the rare occasion when Mother Plum doubted Penny's word, an oceans of tears punctuated with thunderous wailings quickly change her mind. </div>
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The day started with Penny waking her parents from a deep sleep, insisting on a day trip to the beach. The Plums were obliged to obey the royal command. At half past eleven the Plum's squeezed into their Rambler Station Wagon. The very back was reserved for Penny, leaving the brothers to crowd themselves three deep in the middle. Penny required room to lay out her artist's tools - a bucket, spade, unicorn, tablet, crayons, and her favorite dolls. During the hour long drive down the Coastal Highway, Penny sketched her masterpiece for the day. Once the castle was designed, she began writing her story. “Once Upon a Time,” is how each tale began. Speaking to Penny during the drive was expressly forbidden. It was her creative time, her 'moment' as she put it. Any breach of her quiet time resulted in a look of extreme prejudice. "You're annoying me," she'd mumble. That was your first and final warning before the atmosphere in the car would darken with a storm of tears and a tempest of emotion.</div>
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The beach lay before her. The moment had arrived. Penny blew her plastic pink whistle to alert the weekend daytrippers of her arrival. The beach regulars were all too familiar with the Princess of Apricot Circle. She had her favorite spot and required it vacated. The trespassing family mumbled as they gathered their belongings and half heartedly drudged through the sand to a less desirable area of the beach. One of her fellow beach goers, a fan of her sand art, approached with an instamatic camera. Penny paused on the steps, turned toward the photographer and let the wind have its way with her naturally curly hair. He thanked her for her patience. Penny nodded then dismissed her admirer with a royal wave The family followed behind carrying the tablet and dolls. She preferred to be alone as she navigated the steps. <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XFv58YaCe5Q/SXsvv584v3I/AAAAAAAABAU/4NgvOxYN6IQ/s1600-h/on_being_forlorn_2_b.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a></div>
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In a few hours Penny transformed this small section of long beautiful beach into a fairy tale setting. Her sand castle eclipsed all others with towers, turrets and moat. Once every grain of sand was in its place, Penny blew her pink whistle. In a moment the performance would begin. Crayon signs directed the audience where to sit. When all was quiet she began. “Once Upon a time,” she sang into the wind. “A princess was locked in a castle far away...”</div>
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The drama was revealed word by word, each scene acted out with her dolls in hand. Today's story had a prince searching for his true love on a dashing unicorn with a rainbow mane. The princess's evil brothers sought after her inheritance but she would not yield. Sitting locked away in the castle's highest tower, the princess talked to the birds while she waited for her Prince.<br />
Ten minutes later she pronounced "The End". The audience was invited to inspect her creation after the applause disappeared into the late afternoon wind. Princess Penny was truly in her element.<br />
Friends of Cloverdale. We present Princess Penny Plum of Apricot Circle.</div>
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Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-87397818315069061582016-10-23T11:52:00.003-07:002016-10-23T11:52:45.532-07:00Cloverdale's Mennonite School for Incorrigibles. Discipline, Prayer, and the Iron Rod.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; text-align: start;">Three boys from the Mennonite School for Incorrigibles,</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; text-align: start;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; text-align: start;">ten miles outside of Cloverdale </span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> The Mennonite School for Incorrigibles, ten miles outside of Cloverdale is a special school for boys that seem to have lost their senses.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> “These gentile boys with their automobile driving parents and godless schools have turned toward the world and taken on the habits of cursing, ill temperament, disrespect for their elders, and loose fingers. Our school is known for working the devil out and praying God in,” said Elder Samuel, headmaster of the school. "Not to mention a strong use of the iron rod." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> The boys, while not being of the Mennonite persuasion themselves, were sent to the school for various reasons known only to their parents, their local schools, and the county court. The school's success rate is well known. The boys are strongly motivated to correct their ways so they can return to their modern ways, not to mention not having to wear the school's uniform and hat. </span>Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-11062996599893614922016-10-22T16:55:00.002-07:002016-10-22T16:55:29.190-07:00Albert Spinner Prepares for Halloween<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Young Albert Spinner is the son of Cloverdale's Jewish Cantor, Moses Spinner. The Spinners live on Clover Lane.<br />
Albert loves Halloween.<br />
"Halloween's almost here," Albert said to village Constable Willard after school last Monday. Albert was hiding under a row of shrubs owned by 82 year old Selma Thorn. Selma thought she heard something outside her front window during her afternoon nap. She struggled to her feet, paused to let the dizziness pass, then waddled to the window for a good examination. A moment later she was on the phone to the village Constabulary. <br />
"Something ungodly is thrashing about in my front shrubs," Selma was easily excited, and knowing of her heart condition, the constable thought it best to make a visit sooner rather than later.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The Constabulary is on her speed dial</span></div>
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Ten minutes later Constable Willard arrived by bicycle. Selma intercepted him on her front porch. "Whatever it is, it's over there." She pointed toward the street where a row of waist high shrubs marked the boundary between her front lawn and the sidewalk. Something black with bits of silver could be seen crouched under several branches of yellow, red and orange. The Constable suggested she go in and make herself a cup of tea to calm her nerves while he dealt with the matter. He stepped down from the porch, paused for a quick think, then walked toward a pair of frightened eyes peering out at him from under the shrub. <br />
"Albert, come on out from under there." The constable recognized Albert from the costume he was wearing. He'd seen it on a previous call the night before. Albert was out well past his bedtime, wandering about his next door neighbor's back garden - flashing his scissor hands. The neighbor mistook them for knives and called the police. <br />
Albert struggled to crawl out from under the shrub, a task made more difficult because of the scissors tied to his fingers.<br />
"What did I tell you yesterday?" Constable Willard was wearing his exaggerated unhappy face, used for the village's youthful offenders.<br />
"Not to wear my costume outside until Halloween," Albert mumbled.<br />
"Why did I tell you that?"<br />
"Because it scares people."<br />
"That's right, because it scares people." The Constable was prepared to go into a lengthy explanation but was interrupted by Albert.<br />
"But its suppose to scare people. It's Halloween!" Albert thought his logic was sound.<br />
"It's not Halloween yet." Constable Willard took Albert by his left scissorhand. Together they walked toward the sidewalk and the Constable's bicycle. "Let's get you home before you frightened another old lady."<br />
"I was only being nice," Albert explained. "She needed those shrubs cut and I wasn't going to charge her a nickel to do it." The Constable ignored him. <br />
Summoned by Selma and her speed dial, the neighbors were out on their front lawns and porches watching Constable Willard take Albert away. It made for a nice distraction on what would normally be a boring October afternoon.<br />
Albert was happy for the attention. It gave him a chance to show off his costume. Constable Willard was ready for his shift to end. Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-55454021446438816342015-11-21T18:35:00.001-07:002015-11-21T18:36:45.347-07:00Johnny Crump's New Therapy. <div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-6425608761284272862" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: black; color: #cbcbcb; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15.84px; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 638px;">
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Johnny Crump struggles with simple things like appropriate language. His teachers have tried numerous behavioral therapies suggested by the school's psychologist and lunchroom manager, Nancy Plum. None of which have worked, leaving the school's staff with two choices, suspension or a transfer to Cloverdale's School for the Behaviorally Handicapped. Faced with those options, Mrs. Crump suggested another solution, while unorthodox, it has has proven successful. Johnny seems happier along with his fellow students because they don't have to spend large parts of the school day with their ears covered. Ms. Plum is writing a paper for the shire's education digest advocating the procedure for the most difficult to treat students. </div>
Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-37451215869922575462014-07-22T14:31:00.003-07:002014-07-22T14:37:43.338-07:00Rose Puffdale and Community Decency<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: white;"> </span><span style="color: white;">Rose Puffdale is normally a woman who exemplifies modesty in all aspects of her life. She is a strong advocate for the return of the full length swimsuit for women and a supporter for strict uniform standards in Cloverdale's schools.</span><br />
<span style="color: white;">'Skin' is a four letter word in Rose's lexicon and the showing of skin is symptomatic of someone raised on a diet rich in red meat. Rose considers herself the Pure in Puritan. </span><br />
<span style="color: white;"> A picture of Rose Puffdale participating in Cloverdale's annual Winter Charity Olympics was published in the Cloverdale Times last January. The humiliation of being photographed with her skirt flapping in the wind, regardless of the multiply layers of winter wear she had on under said skirt, left Rose with no other course of action than to sue the town newspaper for publishing indecent images. The newspaper defended the publishing of the photo in question by stating the only thing indecent about the questionable photograph was the expression on Miss Puffdale's face.</span><br />
<span style="color: white;"> The final hearing on the matter will be heard by Cloverdale's Justice of the Peace next Tuesday with a ruling expected before then next Winter Charity Olympics. Rose is hopeful of a victory; If not she has made plans to move to the quiet hamlet of Dibley on the Dale where few get the newspaper and even fewer know how to read. </span></div>
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Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-27249692461053485082014-06-17T16:32:00.001-07:002014-06-17T16:32:20.511-07:00Alice Tinker, Star of Annie Get Your Gun at the Clover Shell.<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XFv58YaCe5Q/SXKS5OkzejI/AAAAAAAAA4U/Tb4vsFMm7p4/s1600-h/n580450627_1826019_8593.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XFv58YaCe5Q/SXKS5OkzejI/AAAAAAAAA4U/Tb4vsFMm7p4/s320/n580450627_1826019_8593.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292454023976417842" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 272px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Alice Tinker is the star of </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Annie Get Your Gun, </i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">currently</span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">playing at </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the Clover Shell, Cloverdale's outdoor theater.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Annie Get Your Gun</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> is in its 34th year at the Clover Shell, playing to locals and tourists alike as part of the Clover Shell's summer dramatic lineup. Alice plays a thoroughly convincing Annie but finds some of the notes difficult to reach as her voice ages so it is best to sit closer to the stage. The Clover Shell urges you to come back and see the show again if you've seen it before. Alice regularly forgets her lines so the play is slightly different each night. </span>Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-51924877534978271452014-06-06T15:18:00.001-07:002014-06-06T15:33:33.998-07:00Dylan Wood named Student of the Day at Cloverdale's School for the Behaviorally Challenged.<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XFv58YaCe5Q/SXKSMZ0xblI/AAAAAAAAA4E/EZfc-TfGLHE/s1600-h/n580450627_1825914_4058.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XFv58YaCe5Q/SXKSMZ0xblI/AAAAAAAAA4E/EZfc-TfGLHE/s320/n580450627_1825914_4058.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292453253902069330" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 250px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Dylan Wood, a ward of the state, was recently named Student of the Day at Cloverdale's School for the Behaviorally Challenged. His selection for this honor was partially based on his outstanding essay, "Screw Greenhouse Gases". A second reason for this honor was explained by the school's headmaster during the award's announcement over the school's PA system right before today's dismissal. "Dylan made it to the end of the day without overturning one single desk. It only took 176 days of school and therapy, but he did it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Congratulations Dylan". </span>Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-12396618845970296762014-06-04T16:43:00.001-07:002016-10-22T16:10:45.347-07:00Sister Mary Edna Turns 100. <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XFv58YaCe5Q/SXKQ3fW5dhI/AAAAAAAAA3s/RcG2762EeMU/s1600-h/n580450627_1825432_6766.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292451795098498578" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XFv58YaCe5Q/SXKQ3fW5dhI/AAAAAAAAA3s/RcG2762EeMU/s1600/n580450627_1825432_6766.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Sister Edna Mary of the Sisters of Eternal Hope is celebrating her 100th birthday. She is a character isn't she? She ignores Cloverdale's ban on nursing home smoking, not to mention the always forbidden policy regulating the lighting of matches near oxygen bottles. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "It'll be a cold day in hell before they get my smokes!" she was heard shouting at the street sweepers yesterday as they swept the street in front of the </span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Nearly There Home for the Elderly and Confused</span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">. They are not bothered by Sister Edna Mary's rants and take no notice.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> The nurses at the home tried to convince Sister Edna Mary to switch to the new smokeless, water vapor electronic cigarettes. She couldn't get it into her head that lighting them wasn't an option. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Don't stare at her cigarettes If you visit Sister Edna. It makes her uneasy. She'll think you're there to take them away. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> "You'll have to pry them from my cold dead fingers!" She'll shout as she makes a run for the door. </span><br />
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Abner Applegate</h3>
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For the last forty-five years, Abner Applegate has reported on the village's downtown happenings for the shire's only newspaper, <u>The Cloverdale Times.</u><br />
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Abner monitors the community's pulse from his favorite bench outside the village's Piggly Wiggly. The bench sits next to the coin operated rocket ride and opposite the atomic gumball machine. </div>
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"There isn't much that gets by old Abner," the store's manager was heard saying just the other day. <br />
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Abner appreciates news tips and leads. He asks that they be written and deposited in the open satchel he keeps next to him on the bench. Please be mindful and don't wake him - if at all possible. </div>
Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-88080952991360543582014-05-07T17:18:00.001-07:002014-05-07T17:41:13.438-07:00<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: black; color: #cbcbcb; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 36px; font-weight: normal; margin: 0px; position: relative;">
<a href="http://ourcloverdale.blogspot.com/2009/01/lucy-mayberry.html" style="color: #ced800; text-decoration: none;">Lucy Mayberry</a></h3>
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Lucy Mayberry is President of the Daughters of the Confederacy and the Chairwoman of the Spruce Street Neighborhood Watch Committee. What a good job she does! She sits on her porch day and night watching everyone and everything. "Nothing Gets by Lucy," is a phrase heard over and over again from Lucy's neighbors.<br />
She is also know for her delicious Twice Baked Brownies.<br />
Lucy is considering a run for the village school board and would appreciate any and all donations to her candidacy. <br />
"I'm running against Titus Miller, and you know what kind of money that man has stashed away," Lucy said at a gathering of her supporters in her front parlor Tuesday last. Her Twice Baked Brownies were the main attraction, her politicking was secondary. She was fortunate enough to raise enough cash to fund a few hundred flyers to be distributed at the village tulip festival next week. <br />
Lucy is looking for someone familiar with the internet to help her get a Facebook. She'd like to get lots of 'likes', although she is the first to confess she hasn't a clue what a 'like' is. <span style="line-height: 1.4;">Be sure to stop by Lucy's booth at the tulip festival, sample a Twice Baked Brownie, and drop a few coins in the "Lucy for School Board" can. </span><br />
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Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-25895545381174527392012-03-18T15:24:00.005-07:002016-10-22T16:26:09.855-07:00Albert's Most Righteous Bubble<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2_2LIak4-6k/T2Zgw_nBK4I/AAAAAAAANKA/wWFS6DgGqG4/s1600/Picture%2B42.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721366771445869442" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2_2LIak4-6k/T2Zgw_nBK4I/AAAAAAAANKA/wWFS6DgGqG4/s400/Picture%2B42.png" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 361px;" /></a><br />
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Albert Lewis of 37 Twin Peaks Lane disrupted the Widow Johnson's sunday school class at the Saved by Grace Baptist Church in Cloverdale today. Acting upon a dare issued by Forest Blume, a well known sunday school miscreant, Albert chewed mightily to soften the gum while the Widow Johnson spoke of man's sinful nature. Then, just as she reached the point in the lesson where she held her hands to the heavens and called on the Holy Spirit to touch the hearts and minds of those in her charge, Albert blew his bubble. The "POP" pierced the silent prayer - giving the Widow Johnson a fright.<br />
"Jesus!" The Widow Johnson exclaimed. The class erupted into laughter.<br />
"Forest Blume!" The Widow Johnson shouted. She looked straight at the only boy in the class with the temperament to do such a thing. "You're Hell bound for sure," she scolded. "Only you would do such a thing in a Baptist Sunday School." Forest smiled, then pointed to Albert. The pink remains of the most righteous bubble draped over his mouth, chin and nose provided the evidence.<br />
"Albert Lewis?" The Widow Johnson couldn't believe her most religious student, her young pastor to be, would get involved in such tomfoolery. <br />
"Forest dared me to do it," Albert confessed as he watch her building anger transform her face.<br />
The Widow Johnson took both boys by the arm. "I should have known," she mumbled as she led them straight to the Pastor's office for a proper rebuking.<br />
Sunday's are never dull at Cloverdale's Saved by Grace Baptist Church.Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-40411342643401426802012-01-29T10:38:00.006-07:002016-10-22T16:31:33.379-07:00Cloverdale's Early Morning Christian Gossips<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I88qE-Uy-q4/TyWEPMeAUjI/AAAAAAAAMPM/zJ57_fT4a7o/s1600/Picture%2B18.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" height="406" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5703109899714581042" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I88qE-Uy-q4/TyWEPMeAUjI/AAAAAAAAMPM/zJ57_fT4a7o/s640/Picture%2B18.png" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" width="640" /></a><br />
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Norma Watkins and Jean Maple Stanley formed their lasting friendship on this very park bench in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Cloverdale</span> over thirty years ago. They've been the best of friends ever since, meeting in the park most mornings when their overall health and the weather will permit. Both grandmother's believe that a good gossip is the best way to start a day. It is their greatest delight to arrive at church with the village's best and most <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">scandalous</span> tales to be passed along to the ladies of their coffee club.<br />
Norma and Jean are the congregation's best source of village news. Gossip from anyone else, while still enjoyable and worthy of a tongue wag, must be taken with a grain of salt.Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-67206067696757827442011-10-30T14:50:00.001-07:002016-10-22T16:41:48.246-07:00A Plea from Cloverdale's Police Department.<div style="text-align: center;">
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Cloverdale's Police Department knows how upset the village children get when given something healthy in their trick or treat bags on Halloween. Last year, six Cloverdale children were arrested for torching Mel Lampke's car. Mel bravely (or stupidly) rewarded their heartfelt and enthusiastic "TRICK OR TREAT" with small boxes of raisins. The result was photographed by one of the children themselves. Mel declined to press charges, saying the old junker was ready for the scrapyard anyway. <br />
"There are other ways to express outrage," the Chief Constable said while making the rounds, classroom to classroom, at the village primary school. "Have you considered smashing pumpkins on driveways or soaping windows?"<br />
"What would YOU do if someone gave you a toothbrush for tricks or treats?" asked one sixth grader.<br />
The Chief Constable thought long and hard then raised his forefinger. "A toothbrush...... now that's a tough one. I'd call that unforgivable." The class cheered having made their point with the local cop. "You all call me if you get a toothbrush in your Halloween bag and I'll be down in a flash with my Tazer. We'll soon put a stop to that kind of anti-Halloween behavior."<br />
Have a Happy and Safe Halloween!Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-83637960272905075212011-09-18T07:14:00.004-07:002011-09-18T07:29:12.689-07:00Cloverdale Weather and "You in a Pew".Sunday's Weather for Cloverdale and the Shire. <blockquote style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">We will enjoy periods of sun with darkening clouds in the late afternoon. Temperatures remain reminiscence of Fall, not unexpected and a preface of Autumn's arrival next week. Wind will be lightly gusting from the northeast and gone all together by tomorrow. </blockquote>Today's Songs of Praise comes to us from the Congregation of St. Michael Anglican in Tamworth on Tide. Cloverdale's Council of Churches encourage you to take time for God. The village's churches remind you of this year's membership drive, "You in a Pew". Help fill our places of worship with song and prayer, making Cloverdale truly "A Community of Christ". <br /><br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/QZh9HvS6Rw8?rel=0" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="325" width="580"></iframe>Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-91839960931694509612011-08-01T17:02:00.003-07:002011-08-01T17:15:36.377-07:00Mr. Tosca Works the Graveyard Shift. Milo Doesn't Seem to Understand<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BXgfefViBfg/Tjc-tPCW66I/AAAAAAAAJJ8/V1yHbe9XY-k/s1600/Picture%2B13.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 345px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BXgfefViBfg/Tjc-tPCW66I/AAAAAAAAJJ8/V1yHbe9XY-k/s400/Picture%2B13.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636042405528923042" border="0" /></a><br />The Tosca's live outside Cloverdale on Highway 1. They are new to Cloverdale having immigrated to the Confederacy one year ago. They are the exhausted parents of Milo, one very hyperactive child. Milo loves to run, jump and shout his way through the day with little regard for his father's sleeping. You see, Mr. Tosca is working the grave yard shift at Cloverdale's Electrical Substation while the normal graveyard manager takes time off for a medical condition. Mrs. Tosca tries her best to keep Milo subdued while her husband sleeps but, without super human powers, she can't track Milo every minute of the day.<br /><br />Yesterday Mrs. Tosca left Milo to her husband's care while she left for an hour to help a friend. He had to wake up early to watch the boy. He wasn't happy. When she returned she found Milo restrained on the couch with husband beside him reading the paper. Milo wasn't panicked.<br /><br />"How could you tie and gag our son?" she questioned.<br />"It was either that or put him up for adoption on the roadside," he replied.<br /><br />The matter was dropped. Mrs. Tosca will not be leaving Milo with his father until his time on the graveyard shift ends.Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-52577426200204553342011-07-31T13:14:00.008-07:002011-08-01T06:00:30.184-07:00Lily Beth and Cloverdale's Curiosity Shop.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XhYmMg1Umq0/TjW3xKaVzII/AAAAAAAAJG8/L3lbJK_aBT8/s1600/Picture%2B10.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 287px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XhYmMg1Umq0/TjW3xKaVzII/AAAAAAAAJG8/L3lbJK_aBT8/s400/Picture%2B10.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635612563960351874" border="0" /></a><br />Lily Beth Locket is waiting for Cloverdale's only taxi outside the village's Curiosity Shop on the High Street. The Curiosity Shop is one step above the Salvation Army's Thrift Store in the quality of their gently and lovingly used merchandise.<br /><br />Lily Beth has the Saturday Morning shift. She wakes at 6:00 A.M. and walks the two miles to the shop, stopping along the way to admire the neighborhood's flower gardens. Lily is partial to roses and can't pass a bush without a quick sniff. Lily calls for the taxi on rainy days but getting Mr. Pringle to leave his house on a Saturday norming to pick her up before 8:00 A.M. can be difficult, especially if he had a late night ferrying the tipsy home from the villages two pubs the night before.<br /><br />The Curiosity Shop buys most of its merchandise from local charity shops and resells them for a small profit. The shop also carries home made crafts on consignment. The shop gets a part of the profits if the item is sold. It's a shop where everyone comes out the better just for stopping by.<br /><br />Lily Beth has a Saturday routine which she unconsciously follows without exception. Making a pot of coffee is the first thing she does after arriving at the shop. While the coffee percolates, she searches the shelves for newly arrived merchandise. She is looking for anything of quality and interest. She keeps a notebook in her purse with lists of items her friends, family and other interested parties would be interested in buying. Lily Beth calls the interested party if she finds a match. The item is then set aside. Lily Beth charges a small finders fee if her client purchases the item. The shop's owners are unaware of Lily Beth's side business.<br /><br />"Why would they care?" she answered when I questioned her about her arrangement last Saturday morning. "They're getting the asking price. My clients don't get a discount. It's all fair and honest."<br /><br />"It doesn't seem quite fair for the shop's other regular customers," I responded.<br /><br />"Here love, have a Sticky Bun." Lily Beth offered me one of her two pastries. Yes, a small price to pay for my silence, but who can resist a Wonderland Bakery sticky bun?<br /><br />"My finder fee keeps me in cakes," Lily Beth said with a smile, referring to her one weakness - Wonderland Bakery's Famous Sticky Buns. "And there are plenty more of them for you whenever you stop by on a Saturday morning," she added with a wink. <br /><br />After her search about the shop, Lily Beth sits on the shop's back porch and enjoys her sticky bun and coffee. At 9:00 A.M. she puts on a record to fill the void with music and opens the shop for customers. Her shift ends at 1:00 P.M. At 1:10 P.M. she is out on the pavement waiting for Mr. Pringle. The rest of the day is spent with her friends, her cats and her garden.Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-24513551975695161972011-07-12T19:32:00.008-07:002011-07-13T07:19:02.319-07:00Teddy DeWit, Cloverdale's Youngest Wizard.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BqStkemfh30/Th0D53fHYqI/AAAAAAAAIxY/0G11smbghjg/s1600/Picture%252B20.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BqStkemfh30/Th0D53fHYqI/AAAAAAAAIxY/0G11smbghjg/s400/Picture%252B20.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628659401964872354" border="0" /></a><br />Teddy DiWit secretly practices wizardry on Petunia Lane in Cloverdale and has done so ever since his robes and wand arrived for his birthday six months ago. He knows its against the rules for under aged wizards to practice magic, but knowing Cloverdale is far away from the Ministry of Magic, Teddy is just the kind of boy who is willing to take the risk.<br /><br />On any given day anyone walking or driving down Petunia Lane could very well find Teddy outside waving his wand and practicing his spells. Teddy isn't shy and gladly demonstrates proper wand waving motions to anyone with an interest - except for the village constable, who he knows will notify the Ministry, and his Baptist Pastor who lives at the end of the lane in a nicely restored thatched roof cottage.<br /><br />"Teddy, you know very well there is no such thing as magic," the Pastor told him one late Thursday afternoon just before supper as he walked home after a church function. Teddy was practicing his favorite magic, levitating a white feather off a tree stump in the front yard. He had become so good at this type of magic that the feather would sometimes blow away with him standing nearby doing nothing but watching, wand still in its holster.<br /><br />"We are Christians Teddy and Christians don't pretend to do magic," the Pastor continued his lesson on what Christians do and don't do. "And I think you should stop drawing that lightening bolt on your forehead. You're not Harry Potter." Teddy held his hand over the false scar, looked down at the grass and waited for the Pastor to lose interest and move along. At that moment the feather lifted off the stump and blew half way across the yard.<br /><br />"I did that," Teddy spoke with confidence.<br /><br />"No Teddy, the wind blew the feather off the stump," the Pastor replied in a corrective tone.<br /><br />"Magic," Teddy said.<br /><br />"The wind," the Pastor replied.<br /><br />"Magic."<br /><br />"The wind." The Pastor's voice was showing impatience. Teddy reached for his wand thinking he might have to use a disarming spell to protect himself. The Pastor realized arguing with a boy as stubborn as Teddy wasn't worth his time. "The wind," he said again as he cleared his throat and turned to continue his walk down Petunia Lane.<br /><br />"Magic," Teddy muttered under his breath just after the Pastor was out of ear shot. <br /><br />People living on Petunia Lane know to be careful of Teddy DiWit when he's outside in full Harry Potter costume. One day Teddy nearly took out a passing teenager's eye with his knotted hickory wand. The teen insulted his Hogwart's house and laughed at his robe and scar.<br /><br />Teddy's Latin is crude and his magic clearly absent but the injuries he conjures with his wand / sword teaches Cloverdale's muggles to tread lightly and respectfully when they happen upon him.Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-50923074324662292042011-05-29T07:09:00.012-07:002011-05-29T10:29:59.141-07:00Miss Bitterroot's Honey<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d1qSlo2mM84/TeKCOk3VjMI/AAAAAAAAITg/CiVpB2dMIeg/s1600/Picture%2B31.png"><br /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zNuG8vGUxDM/TeJTzBI8msI/AAAAAAAAITY/Rw29fA6CQMo/s1600/Picture%2B18.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 328px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zNuG8vGUxDM/TeJTzBI8msI/AAAAAAAAITY/Rw29fA6CQMo/s400/Picture%2B18.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612140221601454786" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Miss Bitterroot with her Famous Honey</span><br /></div><br />The coming of Spring means honey to the Bitterroot family of 34 Forest Green Close, Cloverdale. The Bitterroots have produced the finest honey in shire for the past twenty years and plan to continue as long as Clover is found in Clovershire.<br /><br />Last year Miss Eliza Bitterroot took over the family business from her Grandfather Elroy. His failing health and recent curious reaction to bee stings gave him ample reasons to retire and travel with Mildred, his sweetheart for the past fifty years.<br /><br />Elroy said of his grandaughter, "I leave the business is very capable hands. Young hands yes, but very capable."<br /><br />Proving her grandfather right, Miss Bitterroot delivered a fine batch of honey to the shops last season and plans to do so again this year.<br /><br />"You can always rely on the sweetest honey from Bitterroot bees." Miss Bitterroot said in an interview last Saturday with a reporter from the Confederacy Times who happened to be at the Piggly Wiggly covering the free food samples offered to exiting shoppers. Everyone standing around her agreed as they waited patiently for their free sample of Bitterroot Honey on toast.<br /><br />"Here Here!" shouted Molly Totter, former foods teacher at the Comprehensive School and now resident of the Nearly There Home for the Elderly and Confused as she stood waiting at the back of the line. "I wouldn't put anything other than Bitterroot Honey on my toast. I bought another jar just now while I was doing my shopping." "<br /><br />Molly Totter doesn't have the patience to stand in a long line, having taught school for nearly forty years. She deals with her impatience by bumping the people in front of her with her shopping cart. She pretends to be nearly blind and confused when they turn around to glare. Her performance usually succeeds. Anyone with half a heart and warm feelings of home and mother will step aside feeling sorry for the old woman. She always thanks them with a "God Bless," as she moves ahead in the line.<br /><br />"May we get a picture of you with Miss Bitterroot holding the jar you just bought?" asked the reporter. Molly gladly agreed and fumbled around in her shopping bag to find her honey.<br /><br />"There it is," she said as she proudly displayed a jar of Nutella.<br /><br />"This is the best honey in the world. It has the taste of almonds and chocolate. How Miss Bitterroot does it I'll never know." Molly said as she held up one finger to stop the photo from being taken. "I need to get presentable."<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d1qSlo2mM84/TeKCOk3VjMI/AAAAAAAAITg/CiVpB2dMIeg/s1600/Picture%2B31.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d1qSlo2mM84/TeKCOk3VjMI/AAAAAAAAITg/CiVpB2dMIeg/s400/Picture%2B31.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612191272582614210" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Molly Totter returns to the Home with her day's shopping<br /></span></div><br />Molly searched her purse for her powder, glasses and lipstick. Naturally she wanted to look her best. Needless to say, the photo wasn't taken. The reporter thought it best to help her on her way to the Home and more familiar surroundings.<br /><br />Miss Bitterroot urges everyone to purchase Bitterroot Honey in their favorite shops, as long as your favorite shops are either the Piggly Wiggly or the Red Owl. She turned her nose at our mention of the Coop or the Food Emporium, both of whom carry a different brand.Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-82222966585413896362011-05-29T06:27:00.002-07:002011-05-29T06:38:07.780-07:00Cloverdale Weekend Television's Songs of PraiseSunday's Weather for Clovershire <blockquote style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">The mountains are shrouded in blankets of fog as a cold weather system slowly moves through the Shire today and tomorrow. Periods of rain and gusty winds are expected. Your winter jacket will be needed for outdoor travel along with a good umbrella. Snow is expected in the mountains. Warmer weather will follow bringing snow melt from the highlands into the Clover River. Expect minor flooding in the lowlands.</blockquote>Today on Cloverdale Weekend Television, Songs of Praise. Cloverdale's Churches invite you to join them for Sunday Services on this bleak Spring day. Come experience the warmth of Christ in scripture and song and good fellowship with your caring neighbors.<br /><br /><object height="465" width="580"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/-SHIrS6pMG4?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/-SHIrS6pMG4?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="465" width="580"></embed></object>Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-84313186010232514292011-05-22T14:40:00.003-07:002011-05-22T14:43:17.287-07:00The Mumps Enjoy a Sunday Ice Cream Outing<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eoo6glsdnjM/TdmC_rPy5OI/AAAAAAAAIQI/VgtHuQCB74M/s1600/Picture%2B1.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eoo6glsdnjM/TdmC_rPy5OI/AAAAAAAAIQI/VgtHuQCB74M/s400/Picture%2B1.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609658841319007458" border="0" /></a><br />Things are not always peachy keen in Cloverdale. Horace Mumps is not a happy camper. There was one scoop of Mint Chocolate Chip left in the bottom of the bucket at the Dairy Delight Ice Cream Emporium on the High Street. Of course, being the gentleman he is, Horace offered it to his wife fully expecting her to refuse. She didn't.<br /><br />Wilma is enjoying the Mint Chocolate Chip while Horace toys with his Vanilla Bean Delight and thoughts of Wilma's upcoming birthday.Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-8449322449253625102011-05-08T14:55:00.014-07:002011-05-08T21:13:02.018-07:00Mrs. Tildon's Mother's Day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RDHqpOqYuLI/TccRazqAt1I/AAAAAAAAIEw/-OW2zZXWOxI/s1600/Picture%2B20.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RDHqpOqYuLI/TccRazqAt1I/AAAAAAAAIEw/-OW2zZXWOxI/s400/Picture%2B20.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604467413526558546" border="0" /></a>Mrs. Tildon waits and watches out her front window. Every Mother's Day her son Timothy arrives at 5:30 P.M. with picnic basket in hand and children in tow for their annual Mother's Day Celebration complete with sandwiches, pickles, brownies, chips, soda and fireworks.<br /><br />Timothy moved from Cloverdale to Tamworth on Tide eight years ago seeking better opportunities. The move was nearly catastrophic for Mrs. Tildon. Timothy is her only child and has been her rock and foundation ever since Mr. Tildon died ten years ago. Timothy begged her to move but Mrs. Tildon tearfully declined. Her life is sewn into the fabric of Cloverdale. The Clover Valley has been her home since birth and leaving it and her friends behind would be too much to ask from someone her age.<br /><br />Timothy and the children visit as often as they can and Mrs. Tildon is no stranger to the Confederate Railways. She uses her Old Age Pensioner's Frequent Rider Card at least twice a month for visits to Tamworth on Tide. They are the highlights of her month, along with her weekly meetings with the Lutheran Women's Guild and her regular girl's night out playing Canasta with her friends.<br /><br />This Mother's Day will be special. Mrs. Tildon got up early and fried up a deliciously plump chicken she'd purchased at the Piggly Wiggly the night before. The grandchildren love her fried chicken and on occasion, when the mood strikes, she succomes to their pleadings. It has been said by those in Cloverdale with the most discriminating palettes, that the chicken fried in the Tildon kitchen far exceeds anything from the Kentucky Fried Chicken on Main and Elm Streets in taste and quality. Such talk appears to embarrass Mrs. Tildon, but in reality, it is most welcome but never sought after.<br /><br />It is 12:30 P.M. and a red car is seen at the top of the lane. Timothy has arrived. Mrs. Tildon will collect her things and step out from her brick bungalow and into the warm embraces of a son and grandchildren who love her.Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-46729960479802030342011-04-15T11:58:00.004-07:002011-04-15T12:10:29.406-07:00Melanie Dimple and her Science Fair Project.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TZdt2WZX2aY/TaiVhOkSGII/AAAAAAAAH4I/UxyVc437s1E/s1600/Picture%252B9.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TZdt2WZX2aY/TaiVhOkSGII/AAAAAAAAH4I/UxyVc437s1E/s400/Picture%252B9.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595886935086340226" border="0" /></a><br />Melanie Dimple of 924 St. Charles Street, Cloverdale lost her bid to win Confederacy Elementary School’s Science Fair with her probing self reflecting analysis of her addiction to cake.<br /><br />To prove how addicting cake was, she had a small electrical generator screwed down to the table top. Two electrodes from the generator were strapped to each of her index fingers. A month’s supply of Dolly Madison cakes were kept in a large Rubbermaid storage bin under the table.<br /><br />“Notice how I can’t help myself when I see a cake,” she said in a matter of fact tone during her short presentation to the science fair’s judges.<br /><br />Melanie took a package of coconut covered Zingers from the bin, ripped open the packaging (some said she had a noticeable animal look in her eyes) and held the treat before the judges.<br /><br />“What would you say if I told you that if you don’t eat this Zinger, you won’t get an electrical shock?” she asked.<br /><br />“And if we eat the Zinger?” Judge Phineas Swallow asked, thinking how good the Zinger looked and how it had been three hours since lunch.<br /><br />“If you eat it, then you get a shock from my dad's generator. It’s very painful - believe me, I know,” Melanie rubbed her two fingertips.<br /><br />“Why would we eat that Zinger knowing we would get an electical shock?” Judge Julie Jeeps asked, thinking the entire round of questioning was useless.<br /><br />“Why indeed, unless the cakes were so addictive you couldn't control yourself,” Melanie asked. “Stank back, I don’t want any of you hurt.”<br /><br />Melanie held the Zinger in one hand and the on switch for the generator in the other.<br /><br />“Are you sure you know what you're doing?” Phineas Swallow asked. Melanie activated the generator just as the last word left his mouth. The generator whirred into action. Melanie started shaking as the electricity surged through her body from each fingertip. With all her might she shoved the Zinger through her partially clenched teeth and into her mouth.<br /><br />The lights in the cafeteria flickered ten seconds into the demonstration . The power draw was about to trip a circuit breaker. Then the demonstration ended, just as suddenly as it had started, The generator was on an automatic timer and switched off at the right time. Melanie collapsed into a white plastic garden chair next to her display board. She opened her mouth to explain. The smell of burnt Zinger escaped. Judge Julie Jeeps pulled a scented handkerchief from her purse and held it to her nose to take the edge off the noxious order.<br /><br />“I love cake that much,” Melanie mumbled. "I can't help myself and I think I know why." Melanie explained the effects of sugar on the brain and how addictive such things could be. <br /><br />At the end of her minute long speech thunderous applause filled the cafeteria from the hundred or so students huddled around. Her demonstrations were the best in the science show, far better than any old erupting volcano or internal combustion engine. Several of the boys even volunteered to take the shock as they ate one of her Zingers. Melanie, not accustom to sharing her cakes, graciously declined ever offer.<br /><br />Melanie lost the science fair. Her disappointment was tempered by consuming the rest of the month’s supply of Zingers while watching television that evening. On the bright side, Melanie was offered a demonstration booth at the Mental Health Fair the following month at Dibley on the Downs where she took first place in her age division beating out the display on Teenage Eating Disorders.Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-40217288861906218322011-04-03T14:40:00.004-07:002011-04-03T15:00:25.163-07:00The Troubadours Perform at the Kicking Donkey<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AuAEr-DYL_M/TZjt6GwDrXI/AAAAAAAAHwg/_zUGDCl6HTo/s1600/Picture%2B27.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 263px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AuAEr-DYL_M/TZjt6GwDrXI/AAAAAAAAHwg/_zUGDCl6HTo/s400/Picture%2B27.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591480519880846706" border="0" /></a><br />Never say you are bored on a Saturday night in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Cloverdale</span>. Those that do are slapped alongside the head and told to get on down to The Kicking Donkey Pub near the Train Station. The Kicking Donkey is the center of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Cloverdale's</span> Saturday night fun. Although the pub may not be suitable for the youngest in our community, those old enough to enjoy good music spiced with good company in a relaxed atmosphere will find no equal for village entertainment.<br /><br />Last night The Troubadours lit up the night with down home American music. They played to a full house (the 9:05 train to Tamworth on Tide was running 3o minutes late so the passengers, hearing the sounds from the pub, considered their options. They could wait on the station's hard wood benches or cross the street for a something soothing to drink and a few laughs). The Troubadours were fantastic and the locals showed their appreciation by keep their glasses filled.<br /><br />And to those like me who don't drink, let me assure you that the Kicking Donkey serves a wide variety of non alcohol beverages, so don't let that stop you from coming down and joining us at the Kicking Donkey on a Saturday night. What else you gonna do, watch the Village's Amateur<br /><div id="bnrTop"> </div> <div class="wrp_rc"> <style type="text/css"></style> <div id="rcB" class="wpN"> <span class="twpL"></span> <span class="twpR"></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"></span> Dramatic Society's production of <span style="font-style: italic;">Hansel and Gretal</span>?<br /></div></div><br />I think not :)<br /><br /><object height="356" width="580"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/EcLsxsr-qYk?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/EcLsxsr-qYk?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="356" width="580"></embed></object>Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-28120208915675581572011-03-27T13:58:00.015-07:002011-03-27T14:19:18.424-07:00Cloverdale Mental Health Alert<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-duZxbh-MfbM/TY-nFwd2CNI/AAAAAAAAHqY/pK9mSGFd8pM/s1600/Picture%2B7.png"><br /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qm5dzRbGkTc/TY-lAJc7ljI/AAAAAAAAHqQ/YHXYZ2g7NRk/s1600/Clara%2BCrims.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qm5dzRbGkTc/TY-lAJc7ljI/AAAAAAAAHqQ/YHXYZ2g7NRk/s400/Clara%2BCrims.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588867084545922610" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">Clara <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Crims</span> hears The Dead.</span><br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Cloverdale</span> Weekend Television</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" >Mental Health Alert</span></div> <blockquote style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">An advisory to the village of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Cloverdale</span> and surrounding areas. Miss Clara <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Crims</span>, a resident of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Riverbottoms</span> Group Home in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Cloverdale</span>, went missing this afternoon. Her disappearance was reported to the village constable when she <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">didn</span>’t report for her afternoon <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">meds</span>.<br /><br />“I stood waiting and she <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">didn</span>’t show up,” reported Nurse <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Klemp</span>, Matron. “Clara always reports for her <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">meds</span> promptly at 1:00 P.M. I’m both agitated and concerned - two emotions at once, clearly too much for me to handle. Just look at my hands quivering.”<br /><br />Nurse <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Klemp</span>’s hands were indeed quivering. The Constable tried to calm her by saying that he was sure Clara would be found quickly and returned. He reached for his radio to contact the Shire’s Constabulary. All he got was static when he pushed the “Talk” button.<br /><br />“I forgot to charge it last night,” he confessed. Nurse <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Klemp</span> partially collapsed over the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">meds</span> tray.<br /><br />“I’ll need one of these.” She held a small paper cup containing a blue and yellow pill in one hand and a glass of water in the other. The pill was down her gullet with one toss of her hand.<br /><br />“I’m going for a lay down. Call when you find her.” The matron navigated the home’s hallway with uncertain steps before disappearing through the door at the end of the corridor.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-duZxbh-MfbM/TY-nFwd2CNI/AAAAAAAAHqY/pK9mSGFd8pM/s1600/Picture%2B7.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 209px; height: 206px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-duZxbh-MfbM/TY-nFwd2CNI/AAAAAAAAHqY/pK9mSGFd8pM/s400/Picture%2B7.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588869379941337298" border="0" /></a><br />The Constable removed his cell phone from his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">tazer</span> holder and dialed <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Cloverdale</span> Weekend Television to place the Mental Health Alert. Moments later the village’s televisions flashed green followed by the silhouette of a brain with lightening bolts (the sign of a mental health alert). The announcer’s voice followed.<br /><br />“Clara <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Crims</span> is missing from the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Riverbottoms</span> Group Home in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Cloverdale</span>,” she reported. “Clara is not considered dangerous but should not be approached. If found call the station at once.”<br /><br />A file picture of Clara replaced the stern looking announcer. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Cloverdale</span> Weekend Television keeps pictures on file of all the Group Home's residents. Also on file are pictures of those living at the Nearly There Home for the Elderly and Confused. They sometimes escape as well.<br /><br />Clara's picture shows her struggling with her voices. Clara hears the dead talking. Strangely enough, she reports that she is their number one topic of conversation. When asked why the dead would be so preoccupied with her and not the overwhelming scope of eternal life, Clara always looks dazed then returns to clutching her hands over her ears to silence their voices.<br /><br />A small reward for information on her whereabouts will be offered if Clara <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">isn</span>’t found before sundown. At that time Clara will have missed two medication cycles and will start hearing God’s voice. The last time she missed two medication cycles she accused the Mother Superior of the Sisters of Ever Increasing Hope <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Monastery</span> of blasphemy and heresy. </blockquote>Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4197324617631005684.post-5405827037141443432011-03-20T14:41:00.002-07:002011-03-20T14:47:40.194-07:00The Muller's Curious Cows<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pzppnZUr3c4/TYZ1rR3U3iI/AAAAAAAAHng/_4oPV2eiqi4/s1600/3aebbbdfbfdf5897c08fb963f36f468d-d3bltxh.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pzppnZUr3c4/TYZ1rR3U3iI/AAAAAAAAHng/_4oPV2eiqi4/s400/3aebbbdfbfdf5897c08fb963f36f468d-d3bltxh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586281774189960738" border="0" /></a><br />Bernie and Bernice Muller have Cloverdale's most curious cows. Many locals, needing some kind of a diversion from the hectic day to day village life, always know when push comes to shove, at the end of the day, when the budget allows for precious little entertainment, there is always "The Drive" to the Muller's farm to watch the Muller cows, watch you.<br /><br />If you stay long enough and are patient, you might be invited into the farmhouse for one of Bernice's famous double chocolate chip cookies, washed down with an ice cold glass of milk from those very same curious cows. Although not recommended for the teen crowd, cow watching has become a somewhat popular pass time for the 60 and up crowd.<br /><br />The Muller cows are always happy to see you. You can find them near the Highway One fence about four miles outside of town.Space Camp Utahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08889309488645850869noreply@blogger.com0