In the midst of the busy farmer’s market, Tambeeka arrived at her booth and began unpacking her wares. Chrissy was so very tired from the two mile journey to the market and had to be unhooked from the wagon right away and immediately given water to avoid passing out.
While unloading her eggs, homemade potpourri, and lettuce, Tambeeka heard a strange noise hiding underneath the heads of lettuce, “MOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW MOOOOOOOWWWWWWW.”
Tambeeka was quite surprised and worried that maybe Zdeno had hit under the lettuce to enjoy a field trip the market. She quickly moved the lettuce from the back of the wagon to the table, and finally she reached the bottom and was surprised to find a small, chubby, faux-hawk sporting feline. “Hello there – little chubby kitty,” Tambeeka greeted the feline, “You look little a strange… You seem to have a green hue about your fur. Are you ill?”
The small, chubby, faux-hawk sporting feline responded to Tambeeka’s question with only another, “MOOOOOOOOOWWWWW.”
Tambeeka reached down and picked up the small, chubby, faux-hawk sporting feline and held him in her arms. Instead of questioning her motives, the small, chubby, faux-hawk sporting feline laid peacefully in her arms, completely not prepared for any oncoming attack that could present itself when being handled by a stranger. Although most humans would find this a positive attribute Tambeeka, looked at the small, chubby, faux-hawk sporting feline and questioned him, “Why are you not in your proper defensive position?”
Once again the feline replied with a, “MMMMMOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW.”
Tambeeka sat the small, chubby, faux-hawk sporting feline down on the ground and said to him, “Well, little kitty, I think we shall be friends, despite your lack of proper defensive positioning, chubbiness, and overall ugliness. I shall call you Mikey. I’m sure you’d like to come home and live in my barn. However, I must first stay here and sell my wares, then you can come home with me and meet my other cats. Until then, you should sit over there with Chrissy. If he starts to die, please inform me of the proceedings and then let him die. He’s useless.”
Mikey looked up at Tambeeka with his big “chocolate brown” eyes, and yet again responded with a, “MMMOOOOOOOOWWWWWW.” as he waddled over to where Chrissy was lying.
As Tambeeka watched him waddle over she said to herself, “He is a nice cat, what a pleasant surprise in my pile lettuce of this morning. Hhhhhmmm… People will buying that lettuce, I should make sure it’s clean.”
With that, Tambeeka returned to preparing her wares for the sale, and double checked to make sure all the heads of lettuce did not have any cat hair and/or other bodily fluids.
The farmer’s market was soon coming to an end and Tambeeka had enjoyed a very successful day selling her eggs, lettuce, and homemade potpourri. Little did she know, her life as she knew it was about to change. As she started to pack up her wagon and wake Chrissy up from his nine hour nap (he woke up – but he was still tired) she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see who this hand belonged to, and she was struck with a vision of the most beautiful man she had ever seen. (She didn’t see many men actually – she lived alone – on a farm – with animals…) The man was statuesque, at least six feet tall, and had piercing green eyes, and velvety brown hair. Her eyes continued to admire this vision of splendor, when she was struck with the yumminess of the clothes he was wearing. His suit was nice, but it was the way he accessorized. His pockets square, his belt buckle, his shoes all were exquisite. Tambeeka looked up at him, and caught a strange questioning look on his face. It was then that Tambeeka realized that he had caught her admiring his belt buckle. “That’s awkward.” Tambeeka thought to herself as she blushed and turned away bashfully.
Soon Tambeeka realized that she must interact with this vision of a man standing in front of her table of lettuce. “How…. May…. I…. Help…. You….?” Tambeeka managed to stammer out.
Little did Tambeeka know, this “vision of a man” was admiring her in the same way she had just admired him. He was just as taken back by Tambeeka’s radiant beauty. He didn’t mind her dirt smudged cheeks, or the worn black and vegas gold calico dress. She was beautiful; she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. In the midst of admiring her loveliness he realized that this fantastic woman had just spoken to him. He was taken aback, not sure how to reply. “Uhhhh… Uhhhhh…. I want something to put in a new bowl I just bought.” The man managed to say.
Tambeeka raised an inquisitive eyebrow, “You buy bowls?”
The man smiled as he thought about his favorite hobby, “Why yes. I buy bowls. It’s a hobby of mine. I like them. They’re…. versatile. You can put food in them, you can wear them as hats, you can give them to people, you can use them to commemorate championships, etc. Bowls can be used for many things.”
Tambeeka shrugged at the man’s explanation realizing that it was quite logical not matter how outlandish and bizarre it was for a hobby. “Well… I have lettuce and homemade potpourri. Would either of those things work to put in your new bowl?”
The man thought about her offer and decided that homemade potpourri would be the perfect thing to put in his new bowl. “I’ll take two handfuls of potpourri please.”
Tambeeka quickly put a handful of potpourri in a bag and handed it to the man and collected his payment, and went back to work putting away her wares and preparing for the journey back to her farm.
As the man turned to walk away he kicked himself for not having introduced himself to this gorgeous woman selling homemade potpourri, lettuce, and eggs. It was a farmer’s market after all, and he figured that this lovely woman would be back in the same place next week. “Next week,” he thought to himself, “Next week, I will return and ask this stunning lady out on a date.”
Monday, August 3, 2009
Friday, July 31, 2009
CHAPTER ONE
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.
“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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