Oh no! Cabbage Season Again

June 29, 1966.

Jocie Brooke here reporting from Holly County, Kentucky. Oh no!! Look what I spotted in Miss Sally's garden. If she's got cabbage about to start making a head, then I'm pretty sure every other member of the Mount Pleasant Church does too. That's a BIG oh no. I hate cabbage! Who could want to eat that stuff. Have you ever smelled it while it's cooking?? Maybe not as bad as mustard greens, but still plenty yucky. So yucky it draws flies. 

The cabbage starts boiling, the flies line up on the screen door to find a way in to get to whatever is making that smell. You have to remember that flies like, actually like, dead things. So to them the smell is probably good. Great even. But not to me!! And then I have to eat it. At least, we do always have cornbread to go with the cooked cabbage. I do like cornbread. Pioneers lived on corn pone, didn't they? So I can make it on cornbread for a day or two. 

Sometimes Aunt Love boils a lot of cabbage because everybody at church wants to get rid of a few heads and passes them off to us. I have never understood why they never have an over abundance of strawberries or radishes or corn. Well, they do give us a lot of corn too. That's good. I like corn. 

Dad says I should be thankful for the Lord's provisions. I suppose he's right, but I just can't put cabbage on my thankful for list. It's right there on my not thankful for list right below turnips. So when we say grace on cabbage nights, I just think about how thankful I am for cornbread. 

What food do you have to eat that you don't like all that much?

Of course, Bailey and Lucinda would have been thankful for any kind of food on their journey. They say it's a good thing for grasshoppers and mice. Right now they're not thinking much about food. They're thinking about their friend, Skelley.

BAILEY'S BUG by Jocie Brooke
   (Continued from a couple of weeks ago. The whole story is under the title up at the top of this article.)

Chapter 17

   They kept vigil over Skelley's body all night long. They couldn't let the coyotes have him. So, at first light, Bailey dug a hole in the soft ground. Then with care he scooted Skelley into the hole. Lucinda helped him push the dirt in on top of the old dog. Then she found a yellow flower and laid it on top the dirt. Bailey found a stick to put there too. It wasn't Skelley's painted stick, but it was the best he could do.
   Then they sat there for a long moment before Lucinda said, "I'll miss the old dog. Skelley wasn't like most." 
   Bailey stared at the grave. He didn't feel like talking. He did feel like howling, but Skelley wouldn't want him to howl. So instead he thought about the first time he saw him half in and half out of that big trash thing. He remembered Skelley's circus stories and the way the old dog was always ready for whatever adventure came his way next.
   Was Bailey ready for whatever happened next? He looked over at Lucinda who had started washing her paws. But then she stopped and just sat there with her eyes shut. He tried to wait until she said something else, but he couldn't. He had to know. 
   "Do you think we can do it?" he asked.
   She opened her eyes and looked at him, but she didn't look mad. "We have to try. For Skelley."
   So they started off, leaving Skelley behind, but somehow taking him with them too. He seemed to be running along beside them with more energy than he'd ever had and whispering in Bailey's ear that he could do it. By the time they left the woods behind and began across the open fields toward the town, he was beginning to think maybe they could.
   When they were halfway across the first field, they stopped for a drink at a little creek. He stared at the water to see if he could see Skelley's reflection. 
   "Why are you staring at the water?" Lucinda asked.
   "I thought maybe I could see Skelley."
   "We buried him." 
   "I know, but it's like he's still with us."
   "Don't be silly," Lucinda said. 
   "You don't feel him with us?" Bailey raised his head and looked around.
   "Of course not." But Lucinda wouldn't meet his eyes and her tail gave an extra twitch. So he knew she did even if she wouldn't admit it. 
   It was almost suppertime when they got to the town. They stopped behind some bushes so that Lucinda could do a complete head to tail wash before they went on to Reid's house. Bailey rested his head on his paws and watched her. 
   When she had finished washing to the very tip of her tail, he asked, "What if doing the trick doesn't work?  What if Reid still doesn't know me?"
   "It will work," Lucinda said, but she still didn't look at him. "Come on."
   Bailey stood up. "Do you know how circus music sounds?" 
   "I think it has to be happy music."
   "Skelley did look really happy when he heard it." Bailey remembered how the dog said his master was calling him.
   "He did." Lucinda looked up at the sky a moment. "He would say it's music that makes a circus dog step high and do his best tricks."
   "I'll try to do my best," Bailey said.
   Lucinda looked over at him and sighed. "Well, just try not to trip over your own feet like you did the last time we tried this balancing act. That's all I ask."

(To be continued next week.)
   
  
    

Summer Time and the Water's Fine

June 15, 1966
Jocie Brooke here reporting from Hollyhill, Kentucky. Well, actually I'm reporting from the swimming hole out in the county. A lake swimming hole. A beautiful place to swim and now that school is officially out - Yay!! - I can go swimming there with a couple of girls from church. Their grandparents own a house alongside the lake. Betty and Candace are great fun. And good swimmers too. I took some pictures before I hung my camera up in a tree way back from the water. Then I jumped in too. Took my breath but in a positively fabulous way. 

I love getting in the water. I'm not great at swimming like Betty and Candace, so I stay where the water's not over my head. Drowning isn't on my to-do list for summer. Swim lessons are. Candace tells me anybody can learn to tread water but first you have to get in the deep water to learn. Seems like to me that makes for a little problem. You know, like drowning in water over your head while you're trying to learn to do something to keep from drowning. 

So, I'm learning that this summer at the pool. I know I'm kind of big for swimming lessons, but Dad says I can act like an undercover reporter and learn to swim while getting the story. Dad's the best. Anyway, at the pool, you have a side to grab hold of if things get dicey. Like you sinking to the bottom of the pool. I can sort of dog paddle, but I like to imagine myself swimming across the pool with graceful even strokes. I picture some kind of Olympian swimmer.

But the imagination sometimes works better than reality. Even a choppy swimmer is better than a no swimmer. 

I'm using a little more imagination to see what's going on with Bailey and friends this week. They are nearing the end of their adventure.

BAILEY'S BUG by Jocie Brooke
(Last week Bailey and Lucinda had about given up hope. Skelley is trying to straighten them out.)

   "For a truth, I'm surprised at the both of you." Skelley lifted his head to stare at them. "After all the three of us have come through, ye let one minor discouragement get you down."
   The tip of Lucinda's tail twitched back and forth faster and faster. Bailey summoned his courage and spoke up before she jumped on Skelley with her claws bared. 
   "But what can we do?" Bailey said. "Reid didn't know me. He patted my head and didn't know me."
   "Folks have their shortcomings, for a truth. Even me own master had a few. Ye just have to come up with a way to get your boy to open his eyes a tad wider."
   "How?" Bailey asked.
   "Do a trick only ye would know to do. Something he taught you. In the circus, we each had our own special trick that nobody else did. Signature tricks me master called them. Me, I walked on me front paws, easy as pie. Always made the children laugh."
   "But I don't know any tricks." Bailey thought about the red plastic toy he used to chase, but it was back at the Robinsons' house.
   The tip of Lucinda's tail stopped twitching angrily. Now her whole tail swayed back and forth. "You could be right, Skelley," she said after a minute. "All may not be totally lost."
   "I knew ye would see the possibilities, Miss Lucinda." Skelley sounded pleased but tired. "Me thinks I'd best lie down a while. I'm feeling a wee bit strange."
   The old dog collapsed on the ground with a huff of breath. He kept his head up for another moment to stare at Bailey. "Ye do know a trick, lad. Ye told me about it yourself. How your young master taught you the circus trick where Miss Lucinda rode on your back."
   "That's it." Lucinda sounded like somebody had just given her a can of tuna. "It was such a complete disaster Reid would have to remember it."
   At the sound of hope in Lucinda's voice, Bailey's tail started swishing through the leaves again. For a few seconds, he thought about how she'd stayed up on the top bookshelf for hours after they tried the trick, but decided against mentioning that. Instead, he started to thank Skelley for getting them to thinking right again. But Skelley's eyes were closed and his ribs were shuddering with every breath.
   Bailey crept over beside him, but Skelley still didn't open his eyes. "But you have to go with us. We can't leave you here."
   Skelley eased open his eyes. "Ye won't have to, lad. I'll be leaving you first."
   "What do you mean?" Bailey asked.
   Lucinda moved closer too. "We need you, Skelley. To be our ringmaster to make sure we do the trick right."
   "For a truth, I'd like that. Even without me master's baton." Skelley raised his head a bit to look at her. "But this adventure is over for me. I'm ready to start a new one."
   "You can't go on an adventure without us," Bailey said.
   "The two of ye aren't ready for this adventure, Bailey me lad." Skelley raised his head up and his ears perked up. "Do ye hear the music?"
   Bailey and Lucinda looked at each other. There was no music.
   Skelley wobbled his head back and forth as though keeping time with some tune and got a dreamy look in his eyes. "Tis our coming on song. I'll be having to go. I see my master waving me on."
   The old dog laid his head on his paws and closed his eyes. He looked to be asleep, but his bones weren't trembling the way they usually did when he slept. His chest was too still.
  Bailey gently nudged Skelley with his nose, but the old dog took no notice. Lucinda swiped at Bailey to make him back away. Then she leaned down and washed the old dog's face with her tongue. Bailey raised his nose to the sky and howled once, long and sad. Then he rested his nose lightly on Skelley's back.
   For just a second, he thought he heard circus music. Bailey shut his eyes and there was Skelley. He looked young as he ran out to jump through the hoops his master held while a host of children laughed and clapped.

(To be continued. Remember, you can read the whole story under Bailey's Bug up at the top of this article.)

Same Old Same Old

November 24, 1965

Jocie Brooke here reporting from Hollyhill, Kentucky where as usual NOTHING is happening. Well, the sun comes up in the morning and goes down at night if that counts. Plus there's school, but that's the same old same old every day. Get up. Catch the bus. Ride forever. Have homeroom. Go to classes and try to stay awake to  listen to the teachers. Ignore boys doing silly stuff. Sneak time to talk to friends. Ride the bus home. Do homework that steals any time to read or write. Go to bed and get up the next morning when the sun comes up to do it all again. Sigh. 

Dad says I should be thankful. That the same old same old is good. He says I should be counting my blessings instead of complaining and wishing for something that I might be sorry happened. He said he remembers wishing for something to happen and then something did. The war. The next thing he knew he was far from Hollyhill and wishing, even dreaming that he could be home with the same old same old happening to him each day. 

I guess he's right. I mean Dad's always right. He's a preacher. He has to think about what's right and what's not all the time. And then figure out a way to tell the people at church. I guess I sometimes give him inspiration on those sermons because last Sunday he preached about Adam and Eve and how Eve was bored with her same old same old in the Garden of Eden. She shut her eyes to all the blessings around her and just wanted something different. Then along came the serpent with his temptation basket of apples to upend her world. 

That's not exactly the way Dad told it. His version sounded more Biblical and sermony. But I heard the lesson he was preaching right at me. When I told him that, he laughed and said he wasn't preaching at me directly. He was simply delivering the sermon the Lord laid on his heart and that if I felt like the words were for me, then that was the Lord's doing too. That's how sermons are supposed to work. How the Lord intends things.

It did work. I'm thinking about my blessings this week. Guess that's a good thing since Thanksgiving is this week. Wes will come to dinner and Miss Sally and Leigh. Leigh will come early to help us cook and Miss Sally is bringing pies. Pecan and pumpkin. I can't wait. So maybe this week won't be the same old same old. All week I'll keep count of things to be thankful for and maybe write about that next week. 

Wonder if Bailey is wishing for some of his same old same old instead of having to face off bulldozer monsters. But then he has to find his boy. Here's what happened next. 

Bailey's Bug by Jocie Brooke
  (Continued from last week. The full story up to now can be found under the Bailey Bug link in the menu up top.)

CHAPTER 8

   Bailey pointed the direction with his nose and Skelley let them through alleys and twisting short cuts that kept them away from the streets choked with roaring and honking cars.
   Even with their roar, the cars weren't so scary to Bailey now. After all, he'd faced down with a bulldozer monster. When one zoomed up close to them, he stood his ground and barked to warn it away.     
   "They aren't so big." Bailey looked around at Lucinda and Skelley when it honked and then went on past. "Not like that bulldozer."
   "True enough,lad." Skelley bumped Bailey's side with his head to push him back from the road. "That bulldozer was a mighty masher, but these others have plenty of mashing power of their own. Besides, they're speedier than the bulldozer. It's best we don't tangle with either one."
   Lucinda growled and swiped her paw at Bailey's nose. "Dogs! Stop one bulldozer and you think you're invincible."
   She walked away, her tail high in the air. Bailey and Skelley followed her. They walked and walked until their feet were sore. Here and there they knocked over a trashcan to find a bite or two of food. 
   At last they came to a park with a big pond of water and nice big boulders around it. Lucinda stretched out on top of the rocks in the sun and went right to sleep while Bailey and Skelley settled down in the shade below her. 
   Skelley said if they kept going the way Bailey pointed, they would run into some big highways with rivers of cars. 
   "Best to wait for the dark of night to try crossing them. While they never really stop, the car rivers slow some at night. Makes crossing a bit safer." 
   "Are we safe here?" The high pitched scream of one of those cars with flashing lights sounded nearby.
   Skelley looked around. "A dog on his own is never entirely safe, but it appears nobody much is around to take notice of us. So we should be fine for a spell."
   Bailey rested his head on his paw. His neck still hurt, but he guessed it was good he had a neck to hurt after the tussle with the bulldozer. 
   To keep from thinking about his neck or how far they still needed to go, Bailey looked at the old dog and asked, "Have you been on your own a long time, Skelley?"
   "It seems so. Not sure how long. Lost count of the months some time back."
   "I'm sorry." Bailey thought about Reid and how good it would be to see him again.
   "For a truth, I miss me master." Skelley sighed. "But I have me memories of him and I've made my way." The old dog laid his paw gently on the painted stick.
   "Did that belong to him?" Bailey sniffed the end of the stick. "Is it a circus stick?"
   "Ye could call it that, I suppose. Me master used it when we were out in the ring doing our tricks. He'd tap it on the hoops I was to jump through or point it toward me when I'd done a trick so the folks would clap."
   "Did they clap a lot?"
   The old dog's eyes got a dreamy, faraway look. "That they did, Bailey lad. That they did. Folks are different when they come to the circus. Ready to laugh and have fun. For a truth the circus is a fine place when the show is going on."
   "Were there clowns and lions?" Bailey tried to remember the things Reid had talked about when he came home from the circus.
   "That and more. Clowns that made the little tykes laugh and lions that made them gasp. The Martino family flew through the air on trapezes and leaped from one to another. Our elephant, Anne Marie was her name. She could balance on one foot and stand on her head. Aye, it was grand, it was."
   "I'd like that. To be in a circus."
   Lucinda raised her head up to look down at him. "What trick would you do? You remember when Reid tried to get us to do that awful trick after he'd been to the circus." Lucinda shuddered. "You couldn't even make two circles with me on your back without falling on your face."
   "Miss Lucinda has a point. A dog has to know some tricks to be in a circus. All the animals do. Even the lions and tigers jumped through hoops and sat on stools. Snarling to be sure, but they did it. Very exciting it was too."
   "I'm not too good at tricks." Bailey thought about the plastic toy that he could fetch and brightened. "But I can make people laugh. I could be a clown dog."
   "That I can believe." Lucinda snorted and lay her head back down on the rock. "But if you're going to join a circus, tell me now so I can head back to the Robinsons' house."
   "Do you want to go back, Lucinda?" Bailey sat up and waited for her to open her eyes. "If you do, maybe you should go now. Because we're not going to get there before night again. I think it's still a long way to wherever Reid is."

(To be continued.
   


   
   
    
  

Saving Skelley

October 27, 1965

Jocie Brooke here reporting from Hollyhill, Kentucky. Wow, what a week. My teachers have been crazy this week. They must think we have nothing to do but study. Tests and homework and who has time for all that. 

I know. I'm in school. I'm supposed to have time for all that. But I have to help Wes at the newspaper office. And help fold the papers to deliver. And try to keep Aunt Love from burning down the house by forgetting that she put something on to cook. And make sure Stephen doesn't try to escape through the hole in the backyard fence while Tabitha takes a nap. He hasn't been walking long, but let me tell you, that little boy can get away quick. 

All that and homework too is making it hard for me to get Bailey's Bug written. I have to find out if Bailey can rescue Skelley, and the only way I can find that out is by writing the next scene. Homework just gets in the way. But I hurried through it tonight. It was easy. Well, except for those algebra problems. Sometimes all the x's and y's run together and who cares what x equals anyway. Words. That's what I like. 

I did get part of the next scene written. I couldn't leave Bailey facing down that bulldozer monster for another week. So here goes. Remember, you can find the whole story (so far) under the Bailey's Bug link up top. I'm not exactly sure what a "link" is, but maybe you do.

BAILEY'S BUG by Jocie Brooke
   (Continued from last week)

   "Aw, come on, boss." The man who'd been up on top the bulldozer monster stepped closer to the boss. "These guys must be friends. Let me go get the poor old dog."
   "You're crazy, Joe. This old house is going to fall down any minute."
   "We got to do something. I can't knock down the house with the dog trapped in there. It wouldn't be right."
   The boss muttered something under his breath. "Okay. I guess we'll have to call the dogcatcher. Let him shoot the old dog."
   Bailey didn't like the sound of that. He pushed past them and tried to leap up on the window where Lucinda had been sitting. His feet slipped on the broken glass and he fell back with a thud.
   Joe grabbed at the leash as Bailey tried a second time, but he missed. This time Bailey's toenails found some wood and he scrambled through the window. The leash slithered in behind him.
   Inside the house, the dust was so thick Bailey couldn't see. Then Lucinda was meowing. He picked his way through the debris toward the sound.
    "What took you so long?" Lucinda demanded.
   "Never ye mind, Miss Lucinda. He's here now and that's what counts." 
   Bailey stared at Skelley's foot trapped under the big board. It looked stuck good. "Are you all right?"
   "Does he look all right?" Lucinda snarled.
   Skelley spoke up. "I'm in a fix, lad. That's for certain. But if ye could put your nose under that plank there and lift it a wee bit, I think I might be able to free meself."
   Bailey pushed his nose as far under the plank as he good. Dust got in his nose but he didn't sneeze. He lifted until his neck hurt. 
   "You did it, lad." The old dog pulled his paw free and gave it a lick. "We'd best be making our escape now. Me thinks I heard some mention of the dogcatcher. We don't want to be anywhere near here if he shows up." He gabbed his painted stick and pointed his nose toward the window.
   Lucinda was already up there. "Will you two quit yapping and come on?"
   Bailey jumped up into the window after Lucinda disappeared outside. The bulldozer monster was still there, glaring at him but at least it wasn't rumbling. Bailey looked back at Skelley. "Can you make it?"
   "Can I make it?" Skelley said around the stick in his mouth. "I used to jump on old Asaph when he was trotting. One bum foot won't be slowing me down."
   Bailey leaped off the window directly in front of the bulldozer. Then Skelley was up in the window and a cheer went up from the men standing around. Skelley paused in the window to give a bow.
   "Whatever is he doing?" Lucinda muttered.
   "I don't know." Bailey was glad when Skelley jumped down to the ground to scramble after them on three legs.
   Lucinda kept her pace dignified, but Bailey couldn't keep from running as they passed the bulldozer. The worm wheels were higher than his head as they crawled past toward the house.
   Bailey was glad he didn't have to stop it again when all at once the leash jerked him off his feet. His collar tightened around his neck until he couldn't so much as yelp to let Lucinda and Skelley know the leash had grabbed him. They kept walking.
   The nasty leash was teaming up with the bulldozer monster pulling him toward those worm wheels. Bailey dug his paws into the dirt and tried to hold his ground, but the leash yanked him closer to the monster.
   The bulldozer monster slowed when it rammed against the house, but the leash wouldn't turn loose of Bailey or the monster. Bailey jerked and twisted but it held tight.
   

(To be continued.)

What Would You Do with Lamb's Ear?

October 20, 1965

Jocie Brooke here reporting from Hollyhill, Kentucky. Well, actually this weekend I've been out visiting Miss Sally on the farm. It's been great October weather. The sun has been shining and the trees are gorgeous. I'm hoping it won't rain for a week so the leaves won't fall off. It's always sort of sad when the leaves fall off. At least until you get used to all the bare branches and the cold weather. 

But look at the plant I found. Miss Sally says it's mullein or lamb's ear. I like the name lamb's ear best. Whoever way back when, maybe even Adam in the Garden of Eden, must have touched one of the leaves and thought it felt like a lamb's ear. The leaves are all soft and fuzzy. Miss Sally says that's why frontier folk used it for toilet paper. At least that's what she heard. Plus, she says it made a great bandage when somebody got hurt out in the wilderness. I think that's really neat, don't you? 

Miss Sally knows all about plants and what they're good for. She says you can even make a tea out of these leaves or boil it for dye. Doesn't sound like something I'd want to drink!! 

Do you like learning about plants and the funny names they have? What's a plant that you think has a funny name?

Now it's time to check in to see what's happening with Bailey and Lucinda. Last week the old dog, Skelley was running back into the abandoned house the bulldozer was about to knock down. Remember, if you missed part of the story, you can read it all so far by clicking on the Bailey's Bug link up top of my article here. 

BAILEY'S BUG by Jocie Brooke
  (continued from last week)

Chapter 7

   "Stop him!" Lucinda yelled at Bailey.
   Bailey looked from the cat to the hole Skelley had slid through. 
   On the other side of the house, the bulldozer monster rumbled deeper, and the house shuddered and groaned. Bailey dodged a shingle flying down from the roof. He stuck his nose close to the hole and barked, but if Skelley barked back he couldn't hear him over the bulldozer's growl.
   Lucinda slid up beside him. "Do something!"
   Bailey pushed his head into the hole, but he couldn't wiggle through. "I can't get through the hole. Not without Skelley holding up the plank for me."
   "Dogs!" Lucinda shook her head. Suddenly she perked up her ears. "Listen. That thing sounds like it's backing away. I'll go find that crazy dog."
   "You can't go back in there, Lucinda. The bulldozer might come back."
   "If it does, you better stop it." Lucinda glared at him, then ducked through the hole.
   Stop the bulldozer! How could he stop that monster? 
   "Lucinda," he called, but she was gone. He whipped his tail around in a circle and tried to think. He had to do something. And fast. The bulldozer's growl was getting louder again.
   Bailey raced around the corner of the house and froze in his tracks. The yellow monster was inching closer, its enormous metal front a hungry mouth. Bailey looked behind him. If only he could see Skelley and Lucinda crawling out of the house, but they weren't anywhere in sight.
   And the bulldozer kept coming. He couldn't let it bite into the house while Lucinda and Skelley were inside. He couldn't. 
   Barking as loud as he could, Bailey ran at the terrible bulldozer mouth and attacked. His teeth wouldn't grab on the slick blade. He slid to the ground and landed on his side.
   He couldn't let it beat him. He scrambled up and charged again, barking louder than he thought possible. Nothing had ever been afraid of him or his bark, but he was sometimes scared of other dogs barking at him. Like the huge, black dog the day before. 
   Bailey tried to sound every bit as fierce. He crouched down close to the ground in hopes that would make his bark deeper, more ferocious.
   He was about to retreat when all of the sudden the monster stopped moving and simply sat there and stared at him with an angry rumble. With trembling legs, Bailey stayed where he was.
   "Hey, I didn't tell you to stop!" Whoever was yelling sounded as mad as the monster. 
   Bailey peeked out the corner of his eyes at a man waving his arms at the bulldozer.
   Someone, maybe even the monster, yelled back at the man on the ground. "A dog's in the way."
   "A dog! You stopped for a dog!" 
   That made Bailey growl.
   "I ain't mashing no dog," the bulldozer said and stopped rumbling.
   With the monster silent, Bailey's barks bounced off the metal mouth and pounded into his ears. But he was afraid to stop because between barks, he could hear the house creaking and groaning. 
   Where were Lucinda and Skelley? They should be out by now and he really wished he could stop barking.
   The man and the monster kept shouting. Then the man grabbed a plank and swung it at Bailey. He barely dodged in time, but he didn't turn tail and run. Even if he wanted to. Instead, he rolled over on his back and stuck his feet up in the air. That had to make the man know Bailey wasn't going to bite him. 
    But the man kicked Bailey in the side anyway. Hard. "Get out of here, you dumb dog."
   Bailey could keep from yelping.
   "Aw, don't hurt him, boss," the bulldozer said. "He's sort of cute. And look there. He's got a collar on with a leash. Somebody must be in the house."
   The boss stared from Bailey to the house. "Guess we'd better check it out."
   Just then Lucinda appeared in the gaping hole that had been a window a few minutes ago. She meowed her best.
   "Look, a kitty cat." A man climbed down the side of the monster. 
    He must have been doing the talking instead of the monster. Maybe all it could do was growl. But it was quiet now.
   "I hate cats," the man who kicked Bailey muttered. Bailey bounced up on his feet, ready to attack again. He wasn't about to let the man kick Lucinda. 
   But the cat disappeared back into the house before the men got to her. The man who'd been on top of the monster stepped up on a rock and peeked through the window. "Hey, boss. There's an old dog in there with his foot caught under a beam."
   "So?"
   "We can't just knock a house down on top of him."
   The boss looked in the window too. "I don't know why not. From the looks of him, it would be a mercy killing." 
   Bailey growled and scooted closer to them. He didn't know what a mercy killing was, but it didn't sound good. Not good at all.

(to be continued next week)
    
   
    
   
   

Burgoo Time in Hollyhill

October 13, 1965

Jocie Brooke here reporting from Hollyhill, Kentucky. Don't you think it's kind of sad when all I have to report on is a pot of burgoo? Even the word sounds weird. Burgoo. I like words and how sometimes they just seem to sound like they should. Like soft. Even the word sounds soft. Or violet. When that word runs across your tongue you just know it's going to stand for something pretty. But burgoo. Just say that word. It can't be good. I looked up what it meant in the dictionary. "A thick soup or stew, typically made for an outdoor meal." 

That's what it is in Hollyhill. There's this one family that has the recipe and they've passed it down from father to son. They build a fire outside and put this huge iron pot on a stand over it. Then they dump in all this meat and onions and potatoes and corn and tomatoes along with some secret spices and cook it all day long. They have big oar like paddles they use to stir it. Can't let it stick to the bottom of the kettle. Then at the end of the day when the stuff looks like red goo (it ought to be called redgoo instead of burgoo), people start lining up at the kettles with sauce pans for the men to dip them some of that hot goo. 

You have to bring your own pan and spoon. Everybody knows that. But once you have your dip, you still can't tell what you're eating. Except that it's got stringy meet in the goo part. And ever once in a while you spot a grain of corn that didn't cook up into mush. 

Dad loves it. Says he used to think about eating burgoo again while he was at sea during the war. Wes says it's not bad for roadkill stew. He just says that to make me go ewww. There's no roadkill in it. At least, I don't think there is. Beef mostly. Maybe some chicken. Could be it's better to not think about what's in it and just eat it if you're hungry enough. And who knows? Maybe someday I'll be hungry enough.

Have you ever eaten burgoo? 

For sure, Bailey would if he got a chance. You can check out the next scene for Bailey and friends below.

  

BAILEY'S BUG by Jocie Brooke

(Continued from last week or you can read it all in the pages the Bailey's Bug link up in the top line.

     

     “Aye for a truth,” Skelley said. “I’ve been in twenty-two of them meself, but me old master used to promise we’d see them all sooner or later.” The old dog’s face drooped. “But then he died, he did.”

Bailey put a paw over Skelley’s. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, he was old like I be now, but I did wish him more life.” Skelley ran his nose along the painted stick. “This ‘tis all I have left of him. I’ve kept it with me ever since the circus left me behind. Without me master I just couldn’t get me heart into me old tricks, and in a circus tent, every man and beast has to earn his way to keep the ringmaster from giving him the boot.”

“My boy went to the circus once and tried to teach me the tricks he saw a dog do there. You remember, Lucinda?”

“Please. I’d rather not think about that disaster.” Lucinda shuddered.

“Our boy, Reid, talked her into it,” Bailey said.

“What was the trick?” Skelley’s ears perked up a little.

“Lucinda stood on my back while I went in a circle. That was what was supposed to happen anyway. We made one circle but then I maybe went too fast and Lucinda fell kersplat.”

“I did no such thing.” Lucinda lifted her nose toward the ceiling and huffed. “I landed on my feet, I’ll have you know.”

Bailey lowered his voice. “She went up on in a tree and stayed there till dark.”

“Not everybody’s meant for the big top, for a truth,” Skelley said. “But that sounds something like the very trick I used to do for me master. I’d balance on Asaph. That was our pony and Josephine the cat would balance on my back. Old Asaph would trot in a circle, and we’d hop through a hoop and land on his back again.”

“Wow. That sounds like some trick.” Bailey looked at the old dog with new admiration.

“Aye, it was grand. The crowds would practically lift the tent top with their cheers.” Skelley looked at the wall as if he was still hearing those cheers. Then he shook his head a bit. “But it was your story I was hoping to hear. How is it ye plan to find this boy of yours?”

“He has a bug in his ear,” Lucinda said. “If you can believe such a thing.”

“A bug?”

“Not a real bug.” Bailey swiped at his ear with his paw. “But there’s something there. A kind of hum that tells me which way to go to find Reid.”

“I knew a pigeon that could do that. They’d take him far from home and turn him loose and every time he flew straight back,” Skelley said.

“Bailey’s not a pigeon and he’s never been over a mile from home.” Lucinda swatted at a cobweb drifting down toward her. “We will never find Reid. We should have stayed put and let Reid find us.”

“Could be that ‘twould have been the sensible thing to do, Miss Lucinda. But I’m betting the lad here will find your boy.”

Lucinda snarled and went back to grooming her legs. Skelley looked at Bailey. “Which way would this bug or whatever be sending you now?”

Bailey stood up and cocked his ears, but the hum was drowned out by a terrible rumbling noise. He started trembling, but it wasn’t just him. The whole house was shaking.

“Tis only the bulldozer.” Skelley yelled in Bailey’s ear. “It seems the whole street is condemned but we’re safe enough in here.”

“Condemned? What does that mean?” Bailey asked.

“Not for certain, but no people ever come around to bother me here.”

Bailey could barely hear him. The roar was getting louder by the second.

Lucinda pushed her nose against the window and peered through the dusty pane. She shrieked and leaped down as the window shattered and sprayed glass down around them. A trickle of blood appeared on Skelley’s head. Then the big metal dozer blade bit through the wall.

“Run,” Skelley shouted when the dozer pulled its blade back. “Before it comes back.”

The old dog slipped out the hole first and held the plank up for Lucinda. Bailey followed her out, but the nasty leash jerked at his neck and held him back. Bailey grabbed it and yanked until his teeth hurt. It gave up and trailed Bailey out just as the dozer blade banged into the house again.

They were racing to safety when Skelley yelled, “Me master’s baton.”   

Bailey grabbed at the old dog’s tail to keep him from turning back, but he missed. Skelley ran back toward the house while pieces of roof raining down on them. He disappeared through the hole into the house.

(to be continued next Monday)

Ever been to a Fall Festival?

September 23, 1965

Jocie Brooke here reporting from Hollyhill, Kentucky. The first day of fall is here. Football games and Fall Festivals. Have you ever been to a chili supper and fall festival at a school? I used to love to go when I was a kid, but now that I'm fourteen going on fifteen, they aren't as fun as they used to be. But I still have to go. Dad and I both do. We have to take pictures for the paper. Dad says he doesn't believe he's ever been anywhere noisier than a fall festival. Especially when they have those clicker things for prizes. You know what I mean. Pieces of metal that you pinch and make a click sound. I loved getting them as prizes when I was in grade school. I still like them. I got two last weekend, but Dad told me I'd better not click them when I was in the car with him. Funny how noisemakers don't bother you when you're the one making the noise but drive you crazy when it's somebody else making the noise. 

What's your favorite thing at a fall festival? Dad likes the cake walk, but then if you win, you're stuck with a cake you have to carry around. The duck pond is fun because everybody gets a prize there. More tin clackers or sometimes whistles. Dad says they are even worse and looks like teachers and parents would know to get prizes that weren't so noisy. Then you can throw bean bags at a target. I never won those, but I used to try all the games, even dunking for apples. A person could drown trying to bite an apple in a tub of water! 

What fall festival games did you like? 

And now for more from Bailey and Lucinda. 
 
BAILEY'S BUG by Jocie Brooke
(continued from last post. Read it all in the Bailey's Bug link at the top of this report.) 

Bailey is still on the road with Lucinda. In today's chapter, they meet a new friend. 

 In the morning, Bailey’s stomach growling woke him up, but he lay still. Lucinda’s eyes were shut. She might not be ready to wake up. Bailey’s left ear began to itch and little pins were sticking in his feet. Worse, he needed to find a bush. He was going to have to move and chance Lucinda’s temper.

A loud clang brought Bailey to his feet. Lucinda’s eyes flew open wide and she backed up against the fence and hissed. “See what it is.”

Bailey peeked around the corner of the trash bin. Nothing there. No people. No anything. A clang above his head made him jump again. Bailey looked up to see the skinniest dog ever, balancing on the edge of the bin opening. Bones looked like they were trying to break free of his skin.

The stranger pulled his head out of the trash bin to look down at Bailey. “And who might you be?” The words were muffled by the piece of bread in the dog's mouth.

“Bailey.” Bailey thought about barking really loud to see if that might make the other dog drop the bread, but that would be rude. Better to just stand there and let the saliva dribble out of the corners of his mouth. “How do you do that?”

The bread disappeared in the dog’s mouth. “What’s that, me lad?” he asked when his mouth was free once more.

“Stay there on the edge without falling in. I couldn’t even make it up to the opening last night.”

“Practice it takes, me lad. Many years of practice and a good bit more need of food than you’re showing.” The dog looked down at Bailey with dark eyes that laughed. Bailey didn’t mind. It was a nice kind of laughing.

Bailey’s tail tapped against the bin. “Maybe so, but I'm still hungry. Could you show me how to get something to eat from the bin too?” Bailey tried to sound respectful. ”When you're finished yourself, of course.”

The old dog laughed. “I fear this is a trick you could never learn, Bailey me lad. Not even with much practice.” The dog glanced back into the bin. “But it appears there’s a bounty of scraps this day. So I’d be honored to share vittles with the likes of you.”

The dog’s head disappeared back in the bin and then tossed out a few bits of bread with some meat still stuck to it.

“Be that enough, me lad?” The dog peered down at Bailey through his legs and tottered so that Bailey was sure the old fellow would fall in the bin or off it at any minute.

Bailey look at the bread. “Is there any milk in there?”

“Milk?” the dog said. “You are a particular beggar, for a truth. But let me give it a look see. If it’s on top I might be able to grab it.”

He slung out a few more scraps and then, with a yelp of discovery, jumped down to the ground to place a milk carton at Bailey’s feet. “There you go, lad. Enough milk for a bit of a sup, I should think.”

“Thank you.” Bailey wagged his tail. “Do you have a name?”

“Skelley, at your service, I’m sure.” The dog dropped down in a kind of bow that made Bailey forget how bony and old the dog looked.

“Skelley. So glad to meet you and thank you so much for the food. I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”

Skelley laughed and picked up one of the crusts. He rolled it around in his mouth before swallowing as though to get every bit of enjoyment from it. “No doubt the longest your stomach’s ever been deprived from the looks of you. Aren’t you going to drink that milk you wanted?”

Bailey looked at the milk and then blurted out. “What about cats? Do you like them?”

“Cats? Interesting questions so early in the morning. Especially for one who seemed so anxious to eat.”

“But I need to know what you think about cats?”

“Ah, cats.” The old dog sat back on his haunches. “Are we talking Siamese? Alley tomcats? Brindled cats? I knew a gray cat once, a jolly cat he was. Then, of course, there was Josephine who rode on me back in the circus ring.”

Bailey wasn’t sure what a circus ring was. He decided to ask exactly what he needed to know. “You’ve never chased them up trees or anything like that?”

“Aye, some perhaps when I was a mere snip of a pup. But the years have taught me cats always get to the tree first and then sit smugly up in the branches while you run circles down below looking the foolish one of the two.” Skelley’s forehead wrinkled in a frown. “Surely you don’t want to be off chasing cats before you have your bit of food.”

“Oh no. I don’t chase cats at all. It’s just I have this friend. Lucinda.” Bailey tried to think of the best words to tell Skelley about Lucinda.

Lucinda didn’t wait for him to say anything else. She came out from behind the bin. “You don’t need to third degree our new friend after he was kind enough to get us food.” Lucinda was practically purring as she looked at Skelley. “I thank you for the milk, sir.”

Bailey nudged the carton over to her. Skelley’s eyes looked bigger than ever in his bony face as he watched Lucinda tip over the carton to lap up its contents.

Then he lifted his lips in a dog smile. “I had the feeling this would be a banner day. The sky was promising sunshine. The cars were few and far between. The bin was stuffed so full the lid stood open. Now here the two of you are with a story to tell or I miss my bet.” Skelley picked up another bit of food. “But eat up, Bailey lad. The story can wait.”

He didn’t have to tell Bailey twice.

(To be continued.)