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My daughter and son-in-law live in Passing Gas, a
small town about forty-five minutes west of Hidey Hole Hollow. They have some nice, caring neighbors but as
with any small town or big city, the more interesting
neighbors are the ones who are a little odd .
One day last week I spent the day with Roxanne and
Bill as I frequently do. Roxanne and I
decided to take a walk. We walked and
talked and covered a few blocks until we came to a very strange wall and I had to
come to an abrupt halt to take a better look at it. It was about four feet high, two feet thick
and ran about twenty feet along the sidewalk in one direction and ten feet
along the sidewalk in the other direction, split by a walkway that ran from the
sidewalk to the house. The wall was
solid beer cans. Is that weird or what?
"Holy smokes", I exclaimed. "That's the strangest wall I've ever seen!"
"I don't even notice it anymore", Roxanne replied.
Just then, a head covered with wild looking orange
hair popped up from behind the wall. The
face was small, round and deeply tanned.
The eyes were as chocolate as a Hershey bar. "Hello", the face called out through a
toothless smile.
"We were just observing your unusual wall", I
smiled back.
"Yeh", she responded, "When the beer cans add up
so fast, you have to be a responsible citizen and do something constructive and
nice looking with them. I've filled each
one with sand and stacked them neatly out here.
Not another wall like this in the country, I bet".
"I'm sure not", I said as we began to walk away.
"You ever been to a seance", the beer lady called
after us.
Roxanne and I looked at each other, puzzled and
walked the few steps back to where the beer lady was.
"I'm Sarah...Sarah Struggles", she said, introducing
herself.
"I'm Shari and this is my daughter, Roxanne", I
replied.
"Uh huh, so have ya", she asked.
"Excuse me", I queried.
"The seance, Mom", Roxanne reminded me.
"Oh no", I answered, "never have. Not really interested", I stated. I was trying to find an escape for us. We were out for a walk after all, not a
seance.
"If ya change yer mind, c'mon back anytime", she
called after us. "I'm real good at it;
mystical they say."
"I wonder who 'they' are", I said to Roxanne as I
threw the beer lady a wave over my shoulder.
"Holy cow", I said to Roxanne, "let's not walk around that block again".
As we leisurely strolled back to Roxanne and
Bill's house, we admired the beautiful colors of the changing leaves and
chatted about nothing important and generally enjoyed the autumnal day.
Roxanne and I are admirers of the various styles
of Victorian houses, so we stopped along the way, in front of several different
houses to point out to each other intricate details we hadn't noticed the many
times we drove by in our cars. As we
neared Roxanne's house, we heard a lawn mower and a woman's voice calling,
"Hello ladies; beautiful day, isn't it?"
We looked in the direction of the voice and I nearly burst every seam in
my clothing, trying not to laugh.
Roxanne's neighbor, a woman in her eighties with pure white hair and
huge red rimmed glasses, was on a riding lawn mower wearing a winter parka,
knit hat complete with a pom pom at the crown, ear flaps and knit strings, ear
muffs, mittens, knee high winter boots and a dress or skirt leaving her pure
white legs bare from the tops of her boots to just above her knees. Now, if that's not funny enough, it was
sixty-six degrees out!
Those two encounters really made my week. I told Roxanne that anytime I'm feeling a
little 'down', I'll come over to her house and we'll take a stroll around
Passing Gas.
Thank you so much. I appreciate your comment. I've been told, all my life, that I have a strange way of looking at things. Really, I just go out into the world, or just stay at home and life happens and I write about it. I'm glad you read and enjoy my articles.
You can't get much more 'odd' than some of the towns in the southern tier of NYS, and the people are proud of their rickety little towns and their names.
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