It's Seedless To Say!

Okay y'all. I've done it. Early this morning I decided to try and write a funny, quirky, fiction, short story about the cute, Mr. Peanut Squirrel seed cylinder that we got yesterday, from the Wild Birds Unlimited store and several times during the day I have stopped whatever I was doing and written down little notes to myself about my fiction, mystery, short story.

And please note that I have not yet decided on which name to use for the name of Jon and Jason's detective agency. But I do promise that y'all will be the first to know once I decide.

Hopefully, I will have the time this weekend to finish writing it. Anyway, for the next few days, I will post whatever I've written, to make it feel more like a cliffhanger. So wish me luck. And here goes:

It's Seedless To Say!

by

Nancy Parker-Simons

Our good friends Jon & Sandy Wolfmueller and Jon's sweet, sister Jean and their cousin, Jason, who is also a part-time private-eye, in Jon's and his little private detective agency, came by this evening to visit with us.

Early in the evening, we sat outside, around a small, cozy campfire, that Tony had built, so we could watch and they could take pictures of many different kinds of beautiful birds that fly in regularly, to eat from my husband's many bird feeders. 

Tony always keeps his bird feeders topped-off with the highest quality of bird seeds, that he  buys from the fabulous, Wild Birds Unlimited store, in Kerrville, Texas.

Jean and I love birdwatching just as much as anyone does, but tonight while our good friends sat  around the warm campfire, drinking cold beers and shooting the birds—with their cameras, Jean and I went inside, The Cabin and had a semi-heated discussion. And we finally came to terms to dissolve our pot-holder-money-maker business. 

Jean wanted to keep the never-off-the-ground business going, but I didn't, because woven, looper pot-holders had suddenly become the rage and the market was now being saturated with cheap, knock-off copies of our beautiful, pink pot-holder. And that had truly"burned-me-up." 

Jean was a little more than miffed with me, because several weeks ago, without her permission, I had hermetically sealed "our" beautiful, pink pot-holder, inside a lovely, time-capsule-shadow-box, that Tony had buried, in the middle of night, in a secret location, on the rescue ranch. And Jean was, let's say, "upset about it," because we would not tell her where Tony had buried "the most beautiful pot-holder that was ever made." 

Even though, after Jean had finally quit her faked-crying, I caved-in and gave her this one little clue to its whereabouts, "It's sort of squirrely. And that's all I am going to say about it."

"It's sort of squirrely?" Jean, sarcastically echoed back my words. "You're squirrely. What kind of stupid clue is that, Nancy? I want half of that pink pot-holder that we made and it is only fair for you to give it to me."

"Jean, I wish I could half it with you, but it is now hermetically sealed, in a buried time-capsule. It's out of my hands now. It's done." Jean just stood there, leaning against the breakfast bar and she said nothing and she stared at me like I was crazy or something? "Look Jean. To make things right with you and me, I will gladly weave another pot-holder for you, but I must warn you—that you'll have to finish it like you did the other one and it won't be pink. Because I used up all of the pink loopers making that one."

"We'll, I'm sorry, but that's not good enough. I want my half of our pink pot-holder." I started laughing, because I couldn't help myself. Then Jean started laughing too, but she had this funny look in her eye. Not both eyes. Just her left eye and it made me nervous. "This is ridiculous," she laughed. "For us to get upset over a silly, pink pot-holder." Then she hugged me, but I didn't trust her, because Jean's left eye was doing it again. 

Too Be Continued…