Spinning Yarns

What makes a good storyteller, in your opinion? Are your favorite storytellers people you know or writers you admire?

This is my take on this writing challenge. I am pretty sure it isn’t what The Daily Post had in mind. Hope you like it.


Once upon a time in a land far far away lived an old woman in the pages of a book for children. This old woman entertained these sleepy children every single night when their mother read them the stories she had told way back when, knitted together like a sweater that fits nice and snug, but not too snug, and keeps you warm at night while it spins you into dreamy sleep of fantasy maidens and hero knights.

Dragons lived during the time she told her stories during which she did indeed knit sweaters from the wool of the sheep which lived in the fields that were green rolling hills, dotted white with the wooly creatures that lived off this beautiful and dreamy land.

On top of the highest hill stood a castle tall and steep and magnificent it stood among the green rolling hills of this far-far away land, the land which the story teller lived in a time of long ago and far away.

The story teller wove her tales as she wove the white wool and entertained the people that lived during this time. She told the tales of the castle and of the maidens that lived there and of the knights who did indeed love these beautiful maidens who went to war against the dragons to protect them.

She told tales of these battles and the destruction of the dragons and how the maidens would celebrate when the hero knights returned, battle weary. There would be feasts and music of harps and flutes, dancing and merry-making.

She would tell these tales so well the listeners were among them, battling the dragons and winning the eternal love of the fair maidens. They could see what the knights saw, hear what the knights heard, and smell the smells the knights could smell. They too were a hero knight riding upon the back of their magnificent steed over the rolling green hills of this wonderful land or they were a fair maiden that waited inside the magnificent castle, for her own beloved knight to return safe from these terrible dragon wars.

The old woman wove many yarns both in her story-telling and her sweater weaving and entertaining these people of this far away land long, long ago. I know this to be true because I was one of the maidens that loved one of the knights, that battled against these terrible dragons, as I drifted off to sleep among the knights and maidens and rolling green hills in this dreamy far-away land.

Grateful and Guilty

The Daily Post Challenge for November 22, 2014


Awwww, guilty pleasures. We all have them. Right?

On my last trip to the grocery store for my monthly grocery shopping, a small box of candy caught my eye. It wasn’t just any candy, it was Pecan Turtles! I haven’t seen Pecan Turtles, it seems forever.

My eyes briefly scanned the box while my mind plotted a way to get me to buy them. It is just a small box of chocolates. I haven’t had any in a very long time. I have done very well in staying away from sweets and salty chips. Hmmm, should I? My eyes briefly glanced over my surroundings while my brain chanted, “Yes, yes yes! Get them!

Making sure no one was watching and that they were all busy shopping. I snatched the box off the shelf and put it in my basket underneath the bags of fresh vegetables. Feeling confident that I had just gotten a clean get-a-way, I proceeded down the aisles to locate the remaining items on my list. Yes, I know, the candy wasn’t on my list.

I inspected each item carefully before placing them in my cart. As always, I stuck to my list. (Except for the “you know what”). Fresh vegetables. Check. Fresh fruits. Check. Packaged fish. Check. Healthy cereal. Check. Grains. Check. Whole Wheat Bread. Check. Paper products. Check. Finally. All items found and accounted for. Time to proceed to the check-out.

I noticed there were only two check-stands operating. I walked up to the first one. Oh no, not this one. The checker is my friend, Judy’s, daughter. I walk over to the second check-stand. Good. This is a new checker and I don’t know him. I purge my basket while I am placing all the items onto the big black belt. I can hear the scanner clicking the register. Click, click, click. Suddenly, the sound stops. I look up from my job of purging and notice he has the microphone to the loud speaker at his lips.


I can feel my face turning bright red as horror filled every crevice in my chest. I grabbed the box of chocolates from the man, “Sorry, I don’t want these after all.” And I quickly take them back to their proper place in the aisle.

When I get back to the check-stand, my groceries are already bagged and in my cart. I quickly pay my bill and push my cart out to my car and unload my groceries. Driving home and feeling disappointed that I didn’t just buy the stupid candy.

My car veers into the drive-in of a business on the street I am driving down. As I slowly pull up to the drive-up window, the young lady at the window smiled and waited for me to order.

“A Pecan Cluster Blizzard with extra pecans and chocolate, please.”