One more thing to do.

One day she was sitting down in the afternoon, taking a tinker break. Watching her shoes and appreciating how they looked in the sunlight. That is one of great things about red shoes, they always give you something to look at. As I was saying she was appreciating her red shoes and how they looked in the sun, and how especially vibrant they looked adjacent to her green lawn. She thought to herself “ it might be nice to have a little of that green on my shoes all of the time." So Merriam decided to find a green decoration suitable for her beloved red shoes.

So, this was Merriam

So this was Merriam. Her hair was gray and face wrinkled, her hands were knotted up like a boy scout practice rope. She was slightly pudgy , she cut and styled her own hair, and for the most part did a good job. She wore glasses that swooped low on the sides before rising to the ear, and if you didn’t know better you would swear they were on upside down. They would darken when she went in to the sun. This of course protected her eyes but made her face look grumpy. She loved floral prints which most of her blouses were covered in, and though they were the type of blouse usually accompanied by a skirt Merriam only wore jeans, and like I mentioned before, the ensemble was completed with her red shoes.

A day for Merriam.

Note to reader: Read oldest post to most recent.

She would get up as the sun was rising. Fixing a breakfast of toast, eggs and juice, she would sit at a table in the corner of the kitchen and look out the window to the east. As the sun rose higher into the sky she would watch all of the fresh movements of the day. Morning creatures creating a fluid dance that was mesmerizing, the birds as they squawked, and pecked in the dampness of the dew, cats lazily stirring as they emerged from a nights hunt like drunks stumbling home gracefully from a night of indulgence, and the long grasses in the field that adjoined her back yard waving in time like the conductor of the whole morning affair. Most days this was her favorite time. After her breakfast she would then bathe and get dressed in her usual attire. A blouse of various patterns and colors, and blue jeans, and last of all she would put on her red shoes. Red shoes were a guilty pleasure for Merriam. She felt that anyone worth anything wore red shoes. After she was prepared for the day she, would tinker. Tinker in the yard, tinker in the garage, tinker in the living room. Anywhere she could think of she would arrange, clean, fix, improve. Anything to keep her from the small sofa and the television, because when she hit the sofa and the TV was on, and her frozen dinner was warm on the decorative TV tray, she become lost in an array of programs, and commercials that would eventually lull her to sleep on the sofa, set to start all over again.

About now you may be wondering about that magic. Be patient it will come when it comes.

The Beginning

There are stories of many kinds that make this world wonderful, and interesting. Some are of love, some of terror, and some are just plain silly. But no matter the subject the most intriguing have a little bit of everything. I am not claiming greatness, but this story does contain a little bit of everything.

Magic
Magic can happen in a number of circumstances. Sometimes it comes from a spell, or a charm, maybe even a potion, it can also be fostered by imagination. Magic is a part of this story as well- not magic born from a wand or stirred up with bat wings and newt tails in a witches cauldron, but a magic concocted by pure sweet, madness. ( For those younger readers this type of madness does not mean angry, but crazy, cuckoo, nuts. Pardon the political back step.)

Merriam
Merriam was alone as she had been most of her life. Sharing the world with one sister and a neighborhood of disinterested people: people with busy lives, and too much going and doing to bother with the other people sharing their proximity. Merriam’s sister Elizabeth lived in Kitchner, which was a town just to the west of Bullsport. Bullsport was Merriam’s home town, as it had been ever since she left Kitchner to live on her own. Elizabeth lived on her own in the home of their parents and even though she was on her own as well, she always had so many inconvenient things going on; visiting Merriam was most times out of the question.

Merriam spent most days alone, watching. Watching people come and go, move in and move out, many people moving around but no one to visit with. Now at the ripe age of seventy two, she had gotten used to things the way they were. She had retired from a manufacturing position at a local trinket company, that specialized in dollar items, such as noise makers, toys and party favors: things people would use for a night and then throw away, or hang from the mirror of their car for a short period. Retiring hadn’t changed her life much, other than it gave her one less thing to do.

Note to reader: Read this blog from oldest post to newest, that is if you want the story to make sense. That means you start from the bottom and work your way up.