Friday, July 31, 2009


It was a gorgeous May morning when Tambeeka Kluczkowski awoke from peaceful night’s sleep to see a beautiful robin singing a song outside her bedroom window. As she sat up and ran hands through her flowing blonde hair she spoke towards the robin who sang that song on her window every single morning.

“Hello Victor,” Tambeeka began, “That is a lovely song you are singing me. Unfortunately, it’s not the best song I’ve ever heard, that little Johnny bird sings quite a bit sweeter. However, I appreciate your song, regardless of your inferior singing abilities.”

Upon hearing this, and realizing that if skills as a songbird were no longer needed, Victor flew away in anger. Rumor has it, he flew all the way to Sweden, but we will never know, as he was never seen or heard from again.

Today, Tambeeka needed to take the fresh eggs she would gather from the chickens in the barn to the farmer’s market in town. Tambeeka and her family lived outside of the lovely Canadian city of Ottawa. Tambeeka Kluczkowski got up out of bed and began her morning routine. First, she put on her favorite black and Vegas gold calico dress. It was lovely dress, however, it was a bit warn, but it was the best she had, and since she was going into town today, it was as good of occasion as any to wear it.

Before she could do anything else, Tambeeka had to go out to the barn to gather the fresh eggs she was planning on selling at the farmer’s market. Tambeeka was quite fond of all the hens and had given all five them lovely names.
As she went down the line she greeted each hen by name,

“Hello Alexander Semin,” she said as she looked for eggs. However, Alexander Semin was an underachieving hen, and had laid no eggs for Tambeeka today. Tambeeka was quite upset at this development and said to Alexander Semin, “Alexander Semin! Your inability to produce eggs is quite unacceptable. I am planning a nice chicken noodle soup for dinner next week, if you do not begin to do your job, you will be that soup.” Although Tambeeka threatened the hen, all she got in return was the same cold blank stare she got every morning.

“Hello Tuomo,” she greeted the second hen.

“Hello Jarkko,” to the third. (Hens number’s two and three were sisters)

“Good morning Michel,” to the fourth.

And to the fifth, the biggest chicken, Tambeeka’s favorite, “Hello dear Zdeno.” Soon Tambeeka had gathered over 13 eggs to take to the farmer’s market to sell. She placed them in her basket and went back into the house.

She gathered the rest of the wares she was planning on taking to the market, including some random heads of lettuce and homemade potpourri. After gathering her wares Tambeeka left her house to go to the barn where she found here old, decrepit donkey Chris Chelios.

“Good morning Chris Chelios,” she said as she greeted the old donkey who struggled to get to his feet, “Are you going to be able to get me into town today?”

“Chrissy” as Tambeeka affectionately called the old donkey just returned her question with a blank stare. Tambeeka took that oh so familiar blank stare as a yes and began to hook Chrissy up to the wagon. Soon, everything was packed and ready, and Tambeeka and Chrissy were off to town.

As Tambeeka sat in the old wooden wagon being pulled by the old decrepit donkey, she dreamed of a day when she would a own a handsome, strong, muscular, white stallion. But alas, white stallions were expensive; she had seen a white stallion auctioned off last week for the outrageous price of eight hundred and seventy dollars. Someday, someday, a handsome white stallion would be hers, but today was not that day, and today she was stuck with nasty, smelly, old, ugly, Chrissy.

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