seeing eye

Amy, my mother,  was right-brained, a creative/artsy kind of person; she liked decorating, painting, sewing, and writing.   She was proud of Pete, my daddy, for his left-brained thinking/his handwriting, his mathematical abilities, and his straight rows of broomcorn.  I believe she was pleasantly surprised and proud when near retirement age,  he began showing a real knack for artistic ventures – hammering rings out of silver quarters, making knives with handles made from deer horns, building shadow boxes with miniature tools and fences in them, as well as designing other metal structures which were sometimes cute and other times sort of weird.  This picture prompt looks like it could have been one of daddy’s creations.

If he had done so, he might have teased my mom in the following way:  “Hey, Amy.  I finally got you a private home security system.”  As  she would look over the creation, she would wonder what in the world Pete was up to now.  “Thanks,” she would respond, “but how is that thing going to work?”  “Oh,” he would explain, “it goes with a sign that says, The Seeing Eye Security System, so the thieves and robbers will think they are on camera.”  And although it’s ugly and gross, mom would have scooted it over to the corner of the porch, where she could show off dad’s latest creation when the kids came home.     (Eph. 5:33 “…let every one of you in particular so love his wife even as himself; and the wife see that she reverence her husband.  Mom reverenced my dad by the way she was proud of him and his accomplishments.)

Prompt with picture was provided by Friday Fictioneers  by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields at Addicted to PurpleThe Challenge – write a one hundred word (plus or minus) story with a beginning, middle, and end inspired by the picture.

About oneta hayes

ABOUT ME Hello. To various folks I am Neat’nee, Mom, Grandma Neta, Gramma, Aunt Neta, Aunt Noni, Aunt Neno, and Aunt Neto (lots of varieties from little nieces and nephews). To some I’m more like “Didn’t you used to be my teacher?” or “Don’t I know you from someplace?” To you, perhaps, I am a Fellow Blogger. Not “fellow” like a male or a guy, but “fellow” like a companion or an adventurer. I would choose to be Grandma Blogger, and have you pull up a chair, my website before you, while I tell you of some days of yore. I have experienced life much differently than most of you. It was and is a good life. I hope to share nuggets of appreciation for those who have gone before me and those who come after me. By necessity you are among those who come after me and I will tell you of those who came before. Once upon a time in a little house on a prairie - oops, change that lest I commit plagiarism - and change that “house on the prairie” to “dugout on the prairie.” So my story begins...
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2 Responses to PETE AND AMY

  1. shoreacres says:

    You’ve reminded me of a Christmas gift I once received. It was a very large cardboard box. Once I opened it, I found nothing inside but the sort of spring that belongs to a ball point pen, glued to the bottom of the box so it was capable of sproinging back and forth.

    Attached to the free end of the spring was a very small representation of a human hand, about a half-inch long.

    What was my Christmas gift? Why, a “micro-wave,” of course!

    Thanks for the neat story, and the laugh.

  2. oneta hayes says:

    Oh, how cute! Did you figure it out or did they label it? I love creative people! And the other kind too. That makes life nice. Thanks so much for sharing your stories with me.

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