I really made a mess of things two months ago. People in town tell me that none of this is my fault. They remind me I couldn't have known any of this would happen when I called out to my two best friends. It's not that I want to talk about this now either because I do still feel awfully guilty, but the readers need an explanation as to why this blog has been silent for months.
You all know me--Jewel Tate--waitress/sometimes cook at the Blue Moon. A while back my best fella, Harold, who also works at the Blue Moon, surprised the heck out of me with some beautiful poetry he had written. Of course, I had to show it off, and MM got all excited about his writing. She went so far as to go on the Internet and find some places that might accept his poems. Sure enough, an online site, printed them and then a literary magazine contacted him to ask if he had more. They paid him $5 for every poem he submitted.
Before you know it, the whole town wanted to hear Harold's poetry. So once again MM got involved. She gave this reception, as she called it, at the Blue Moon one evening for everyone to hear Harold's work. It amazed them that he had notebooks filled with words. When had he found the time to write all those poems?
Town folks talked about their writing, too. Short stories, memories, and several books, completed and others works in progress, as they called them. There were some poets, too. It was amazing that all those people--kids, too--were Harts Corner writers.
Someone suggested we should have a monthly "Open Mike," a whole evening when folks could share their work. MM put up a sign-up sheet in the Blue Moon to see if there really was enough interest in such an event. Pretty quick signatures flowed onto the sheet. I've been making notes on family history for years but I wasn't sure I wanted to share it. I finally put my name down with a ? next to it. Bethy Rose has a funny story about a purple dragon she was ready to share. MM just wanted to listen. And so it went until it seemed we had an event to schedule and plan.
The school offered the auditorium and the date was set for July 23 at 7 PM. On that night I was running late (other than work, am I ever on time for anything?) and had to park at the far back of the lot. I rushed in among the cars toward the sidewalk. That's when I spotted MM, Bethy Rose, and Miz Barbara. I picked up speed and yelled for them to "Wait up." That's when both women jerked around and I stood there watching, astounded, as MM stepped off the curb and sprawled on the concrete. Miz Barbara, who reached out for her, copied her fall exactly. They both managed to get up but when I reached their side I could see neither one of them was going to be going inside that school tonight.
Blood dripped from scrapped fingertips. Both clutched an arm and hugged it to their chest. MM had a knot forming on her forehead. Miz Barbara's mouth was bleeding all over her pretty yellow blouse. Bruises formed before my eyes.
Someone ran inside for Gus who jogged two blocks to the ambulance parked at his Shamrock station. Both, protesting but not too vigorously, were carted off to Doc Barnes who had been called to meet them at his office. He x-rayed and, finding no broken bones, patched therm up as best he could, gave them pain killers, and set appointments for the next day at Orthopedics in Crockett. They are both having physical therapy now.
Neither of them could/can type on this blog and as you must know by now, those two ladies are the heart and soul of this thing. And, though we put our two cents worth in, we haven't had any time to do anything but keep the Blue Moon running. Blog? Forget it! MM can't even work yet and it's been two months. Another thing we do is spend part of our time sending MM back home (with Miguel threatening to lock her in a cell when he's on duty!). Sorry, we just haven't had the time to keep you folks informed. We'll try to do a bit better from here on out.
In the meantime, maybe we'll just post some of the writings of our town folks. Be ready for some good stories by amateur talent.
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