Monday, December 15, 2008

Blowin’ the arse off ’er

What a storm of wind blew through here the other night. Truth be told we’ve been having many storms ‘round the entire province lately but the winds that have been hitting our region have been unlike any other. Even the old farts have been saying t’s so.
Old Roy up the road has been telling me that the top of ol’ St. Mary’s is gonna fall right down on top of me one night and pin me to me bed. I’d answer that it would be the most pinnin’ done in my bed for a while. Despite my tormenting and yeah, yeahing of his predictions, Roy’s kept right on forecasting the fall of the church, right down on whomever’s below her, since we moved here. That almost happened last Wednesday night. The wind howled and it roared. It banged, and it shook the house, but besides knocking the flag pole down across the road from me on the fire hall steps and unhooking some of my Christmas lights, all seemed in tack. That was until my father knocked on my door Thursday morning to see if I was alright. I must have looked a little confused, wondering why I wouldn’t be safe and sound. He pointed towards the roof of the church. Roy’s prediction had come true at last. There, looking tragic and somehow sad, if painted wood could possible manage a look of sorrow that is, was the cross from the top of St. Mary’s church hanging on for dear life by a nail, a splinter and a prayer.

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