Up Scheidt Creek

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When I brought in the eggs, I asked about what appeared to be a witch’s cauldron out in the yard which had a large amount of what appeared to be white fluff around it on the ground. I was informed that it was a pot for boiling the feathers off of chickens, or something like that. I might have known. She forces me to make friends with the chickens and then threatens their lives. And what are we having for supper? Fried chicken. I hope all my mother’s televisions show only infomercials forevermore. She deserves it for sending me to this place!

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After she left, I did a rather grand job with the egg gathering, if I do say so myself. There were more than a dozen chickens, and it took me only about an hour. When I was done, for all the work I did it felt as though it should be not eggs but loose diamonds that were in the basket. I felt like crying for my poor pooped on, hen pecked hands!

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When I was a child my parents took me camping once. They rented an rv and we went to a state park. I found it to be dreadfully boring and was glad when we finally went back home, but compared to this place, we were living high. The rv at least had air conditioning and a television. These people do not believe in either, apparently. Bit I digress.

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I awoke this morning, much too early, to the sound of the door being slammed. When I came downstairs, I was informed that I had overslept and missed breakfast. She did offer me a cup of coffee, but just stared at me when I asked what flavor. When she handed me a cup, I understood. She then told me it was time to gather the eggs, and led me outside, past a pen full of filthy pigs that needed wrinkle cream more than she does. Horrified, I realized that last evening’s repast had probably come out of that pen. I got even more queasy when she informed me that from now on egg gathering was my chore and that yes, I really was expected to put my hand under the chicken’s backside and feel around. I want to go home.

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Last evening was simply dreadful. When I was called down for the evening meal, I found that the main course was an extremely large piece of greasy pork, covered with sliced onions and served with a vile gravy that was tinged with red. Imagine my dismay when she announced that this was a special meal in honor of my arrival, and not to expect to eat this well all the time! And the way she ate! If anyone were ever in need of an appetite suppressant, it would be her. You would expect her to be obese, but she isn’t. I will have to find out her secret to keeping pounds off. After the meal I offered to help, and discovered to my horror that they wash dishes by hand! My nails will never recover! Bedtime came soon after the meal, and now here I am wondering what to do with myself, and wondering how they could possibly be tired so early.

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Well, I am here. Mother wasn’t kidding when she said the place was rustic, and why she thinks I need this experience is beyond me. Even the town is backward. What I initially mistook for a park with skateboard ramps turned out to be some kind of crop irrigation system with wooden water chutes. By the time we arrived at this cabin, I was certainly ready for a hot shower and a nap. To my surprise, they do not even have a shower! And my room is little more than an indoor hay loft! Just a single bed, small table, and a rope strung across one side of the room for hanging clothing on! How will I ever survive this summer?

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Regular visitors here are very familiar wth Momma’s trivia and commentaries, and have heard quite a bit about the new houseguest that she is being so sour about. Those of us who live here on Upsheidt Creek have learned over the years to take what Momma says with a pinch of salt, and are wondering if there really is more to the young houseguest than Momma says, or if she really is forever on a quest for the top diet pills and nothing else. We have decided to take a peek at select passages from her daily journals, and invite you to come along for the ride.

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TRIVIA:

Furbies were banned by the NSA because it was feared that they may repeat national security secrets.

…I ain’t got t’ foggiest idear what a furby is. I spect m’ little guest would know, but she be too busy readin her diet pill reviews ta pay attention ta what I be sayin anyhow. I be guessin it be some kinda parrot though, er budgie, iffen it be talkin like that there.

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TRIVIA:

Cockroaches can live up to two weeks without a head because their brain is located throughout their body.

…y’know, I coulda went m’ whole life wi’out that little bit a knowledge. Would be enuff ta git t’ aphedra princess over there screamin’, that’s fer shore. She’d be more help iffen she would git up an kill a few stead a settin there on her backside watchin me work. I dunno though. Ever time she tries ta help I wind up wi’ more work then I had already, so mebbe not.

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TRIVIA:

The term “Continental breakfast” was coined to differentiate between the fried eggs, bacon and beans (served in a typical English breakfast) from the dainty pastries, coffee and juice offered throughout the rest of Europe.

…sounds better though, don’ it. Ya gotta wonder what kinda sales training they be givin these folks when they kin make a meal what ain’t enuff ta feed a mouse sound better then one what will see ya through t’ mornin. Don’ git why folks be wantin beans fer breakfast though. Seem ta me t’ effects could mess up yer whole day.

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