Dancing and Fiahing #T

Did I tell you what Aunt Ida and her pal, Laura, did the day after they get to Cedar P'int?
Well, sir, Laura 'n Ida were up an' at 'em the next mornin'.  Now the ladies they was talkin' with on the verandy tells 'em more than they onc't know about this here park.  Sure, you can have a world a fun on those rides, but you seen nothin' 'til you see that dance hall, and hit full of people of an evenin'!

So they spend the day ridin' thet Cyclone, and alternatin' atwixt it and High Frolics.  What a view from seventy-five feet in the air!  But that don't last long afore the car come flyin' down th' other side.  "These monstrous coasters are the cat's pajamas!" enthused Laura.

And of course, they were in that swirlin' mob on the dance floor in the Coliseum that evenin'.

"It occurs to me," remark Ida when they return to their room later, "that while the pin was in the middle of the lake, we've done nothing but skirt along its shore."

"All right, then," respond Laura, "we need to find out what one does in the middle of the lake."

An' thet were their next day's project.  Fishin'.  Fishin' fer walleye, that's what one did in the middle a the lake.  So they go to Port Clinton and get a charter to take 'em fishin'.  "Ugh."  Laura's opinion.

"A wonderful lark," says Ida.  "And it is certainly something I've never done before."

Waal, they catch so many fish, and had such a good time, that Ida is hooked on fishin', so to speak, and say it is her new passion.  And there is a whole world of places out there where one can catch fish!  An' doncha know it was on'y a matter of a year afore Ida is off Cape Hatteras fishin' fer marlin.  Catch one, too.  Big one.  Land it herself.  Little bitty woman, five-foot two.  Tuk her nigh four hours to bring hit in.  Hit weigh 511 pounds, I recollect rightly.

Laura, though, did not share Ida's enthusiasm for anglin', so they two friends sorta drift apart.

© 2014 David W. Lacy

Aunt Ida #T

Wherein two merry widows set off to see the world.

Did I ever tell you about the time Aunt Ida set off on vacation?  

Ida get to Kingsport, look around a bit and think, "It's not New York, but it is a sight better 'n the Mountain.  She find a job right quick-like, an' a room in a boardin' house.  Waal, Ida were sharp, an' most afore you could say "Jack-in-the-Box," she had married.  She married good, too, on account a though the man were a bit older 'n Ida, he were right well to do.  Widower, he were, lived at the top of the city.  He din't have kids, but he had money.  Lots a money.

Well, sir, tragedy strike whoever it want, and here tragedy struck.  First off, Ida and Paul try to have chil'ren, and it look like it will happen, but the girl miscarry.  An' yet again it happen.  Then Paul drivin' in to work one mornin', same road he always take, beautiful mornin', but a truck comin' through from the left T-bone Paul's car.  Kill him outright.

Anyway, after while Ida an' her friend, Laura Biggs, Laura were a flatlander, come up from Columbia, I think it were, they decide to take a extended vacation.  Ida go downtown and buy a spankin' new Hupmobile.  The girls pin  a big roadmap the Yew-ess-ay on the wall.  Laura blindfold Ida, spin her around three times, and aim her at th' map.  Jus' like Pin the Tail on the Donkey, Ida stagger to the map and stick a straight pin in it.  Pin stick smack dab in th' middle a Lake Erie.

Waal, the girls pack up they car and head on out. They drive on up to Cleveland, leisurely, doncha know.  They warn't in a hurry.  Taken in the sights along the way.  So they get to the shores a Lake Erie an' behol' it to be a ocean, so far's they can see!

It din't take the girls long to find that fun were awaitin' at Cedar P'int, so they head westward along the lake.  Arrivin' at the park, they decide to do a run-through to see what's hit all about.  Well, sir, one afternoon 'n they get hooked on them roller coasters.  Never had so much fun in they lives.

Ida says, "We got to find us a place to stay tonight so's we can do this again tomorrow."

And they did.

© 2014 David W. Lacy