The Troubadours Perform at the Kicking Donkey

Never say you are bored on a Saturday night in Cloverdale. 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 Cloverdale's 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.

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.

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

Dramatic Society's production of Hansel and Gretal?

I think not :)

Cloverdale Mental Health Alert

Clara Crims hears The Dead.

Cloverdale Weekend Television
Mental Health Alert

An advisory to the village of Cloverdale and surrounding areas. Miss Clara Crims, a resident of the Riverbottoms Group Home in Cloverdale, went missing this afternoon. Her disappearance was reported to the village constable when she didn’t report for her afternoon meds.

“I stood waiting and she didn’t show up,” reported Nurse Klemp, Matron. “Clara always reports for her meds 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.”

Nurse Klemp’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.

“I forgot to charge it last night,” he confessed. Nurse Klemp partially collapsed over the meds tray.

“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.

“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.


The Constable removed his cell phone from his tazer holder and dialed Cloverdale 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.

“Clara Crims is missing from the Riverbottoms Group Home in Cloverdale,” she reported. “Clara is not considered dangerous but should not be approached. If found call the station at once.”

A file picture of Clara replaced the stern looking announcer. Cloverdale 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.

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.

A small reward for information on her whereabouts will be offered if Clara isn’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 Monastery of blasphemy and heresy.

The Muller's Curious Cows

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.

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.

The Muller cows are always happy to see you. You can find them near the Highway One fence about four miles outside of town.

Sammy Slips with the "S" Word

Sammy Smuthers is a seventh child of eight. The Smuthers live at 14 Dupont Circle in Cloverdale. He is a first grader at St. Bartholomew's Catholic School.

At lunch his best friend in the universe reached across the lunchroom table, took Sammy's jello dessert, and licked the whipped cream from the top. Sammy few into a rage. He jumped up, took the dish holding the soiled lime jello from his friend, scopped the jello out of the bowl with his hand and threw the quivering mass into his friend's face. That's when he shouted the "S" word.

Before you could say "Jesus wants me for a Sunbeam", two nuns appeared, each taking one of Sammy's arms to keep him from climbing over the table to finish dressing his "used to be best friend" in the remaining food from his lunch tray.

Sammy was escorted kicking and screaming to the Special Purposes Room, where all naughty children are put. For one hour Sammy was subjected to the quiet of the room interrupted by the occasional knock at the door and a nun asking if he'd repented of his sins. If the answer was no, the door was relocked. If the answer was yes, then he'd be released to rejoin his class.

"Yes," Sammy answered on the first knock. He didn't like the Special Purposes Room. The picture of Jesus near the door with an open heart surrounded by barbed wire freaked him out.

Sister Evelyn knelt in front him and explained that calling someone "Stupid" was forbidden at St. Bartholomew's.
"It's a terrible word Sammy. Promise me you'll never say it again?" she asked.

Sammy broke into tears. It was all too much for a six year old to handle. Between sobs he promised to be a good boy and never use the "S" word again. Sammy returned to class.

Later that day Sammy told his mother what had happened. She gave him a hug and told him that if someone had licked the whipped cream off her jello she would have given him a black eye.

Sammy got a double helping of jello for dessert that evening.
"Here," his mother said handing him the can of whipped cream. "Go ahead and do it yourself. You deserve it."

Sammy pushed down on the long plastic top releasing a stream of fluffy topping onto his jello. He stopped when all signs of the jello disappeared under a blanket of white.

It was a perfect ending to a truly horrible day.

Prilla Salvo Remembers the Shire's Lavender Hills.

Prilla Salvo sits on a sidewalk outside a Dunkin Donuts in some cold industrial city in the heartland of America. Prilla hopes to scrape together enough money to purchase the train fare for a one ticket back to the Confederacy and her home in Cloverdale.

Prilla is a graduate of Clovershire's schools and university. She studied maths, sciences and modern living from the University at Tamworth on Tide. She graduated with honors. One year later she received her teaching certificate from the Ministry of Education. Instead of taking a position at the Comprehensive School in Cloverdale, Prilla removed her savings from the Bank, packed her belongings, bid her parents farewell and bought a one way ticket on the Coastal Express for the world outside the Confederacy. She was bound for the world she had studied and grown to love in her university studies.

The Outside World wasn't kind to Prilla. Prilla quickly discovered that the Outside World didn't value the qualities of oddness and uniqueness like the Confederacy. Her unique dress and flamboyant attitude toward science education was laughed at by many and feared by some. The principal of her school, after meeting with a parent's committee, dismissed her.
"This isn't Hogwarts," was his reason. Prilla didn't know what Hogwart's was.

Prilla sent a telegraph to her parents in Cloverdale asking for help in returning home. They sent what they could. What they sent was just enough to keep her in her one room apartment while she looked for work as a tutor. Hopefully with enough clients, she'd raise the money and return to the only place that would appreciate her talents with children and her love of science and math.

Until then, she waits for clients on the concrete sidewalks of a city known for its many shades of gray. Perhaps you kind readers in the Outside World will take pity on someone that resembles a fish out of water and help.