Viva San Patricio - Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Mag 5

The Captain's Hand

It was made of smooth, tooled wood with amazing hinges at the joints of the fingers. It was a hand. Even the fingernails were delineated. When I first saw it, the fingers were half-clenched. It was beautiful. And it was hideous.

As I gazed at it resting on black velvet in it’s glass case in the seafarers museum, a chill ran over me.

I could only think of the captain.

Like the legendary Captain Ahab, he had lost part of his body in a battle with a whale at sea.

His "hand" was hand-crafted in Sweden by an artisan some years later.
It never worked very well. It was supposed to be controlled by nerves in what was left of his arm. But it didn’t. When he wanted to put it forth to grasp another’s hand, it frequently shot up the middle finger in what was thought to be an obscene gesture.

Needless to say, the captain had few friends.

His life became more restricted, more lonely, and he retreated to a small cabin near the sea on a remote coast.

He slowly became more remote himself, refusing to answer letters from family and friends of his former life. He eventually was thought to have died, passed into the beyond.

Yet he lived on.

Until. Yes, until. A long forgotten, nay, long ignored former love of his came to find him in his self-imposed exile. She had searched for years and finally learned the location of his self-imposed exile. And eventually she came.

But she was too late.

All she found was his artificial hand, floating in the surf, just offshore from his tiny cabin on the rocky crest of land.

It was slightly clenched, as if frozen and no longer defiant.

She took it and cleaned it and kept it.

In a small glass box, lined with black velvet.

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This is the fifth in a series of writing tests based on photo prompts put forth by Willow. You can read other entrants' offerings at Magpie Tales.

Sunday night

Most of the nation (U.S.A.) went on Daylight Savings Time today. Arizona, sensibly, did not.

Arizona State University's basketball team was passed over for the N.C.A.A. tournament today. The N.I.T. tournament picked them as the #1 seed. The University of Arizona was passed over by both tournaments.

Glenn Beck has suggested that anyone who is a member of a religion that supports "social justice" shoud leave it. Beck is a member of the Mormon Church. No word yet on when he's leaving it.

The "media" is saying this is crunch week for the Obama administration's push for health care reform. Time will tell.

The weather is warming here in Arizona. The forecast is for the 60's all week. I'm ready.

That is all.

This godawful winter

When I got up this morning and looked out the window I couldn't believe my eyes. Two to three inches of snow covered everything, all fallen overnight. I had an early doctor appointment so had to scrape the windows of the car free of light ice and snow, then watch for slippery spots on the way into town.

By 5 o'clock this afternoon it was 50 degrees and the weather person says it will reach 60 tomorrow.

How can a person achieve any stability in his life if the weather can't?

Another recommendation

Regular readers of this blog will know about my involvement in Magpie Tales, a creation of Willow which gives the would-be writers in the blogosphere a chance to give it a try each week. I say "would-be writers" but there are some professionals involved to give the rest of us something to shoot at. One whose writing I dearly enjoy is Vicki Lane. Check her out at one of her several blogs but you can start at Vicki Lane Mysteries. She's a treasure.

Spring in Indiana

A cousin on SWMBO's side of the family raises bees in Indiana. He has just sent me a photo of a couple of his bees enjoying the first spring flowers there - some crocuses. It's such a beautiful photo I had to show it to you.

Mag 4

The continuance of Magpie Tales. This being the fourth . . I offer this small fable. You can read the offerings of other writers by clicking here.

"What the hell is that thing?"

"It’s an elephant."

"Awfully small elephant."

"It’s a baby. A young one."

"Well why do you have it? You carry it with you all the time."

"It brings me good luck."

"Good luck! We’ve been in this damned prison for nearly 27 years! Some good luck."

"But we’re still alive aren’t we?"

"Sometimes I wonder about that."

"Have to keep on believing though. One of these days it’s all going to get better."

"Yeah, one of these days we’re gonna die and then it all WILL be better."

"Ah, now, you’ve got to have hope. Be like the elephant."

"Ha! How long does an elephant live?"

"They say it can live for some 70 years."

"Yeah, and how old are you now? 72?"

"Oh not quite. But I still have hope."

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Several weeks later – the guard opens the cell door. It is February 11th, 1990. After 27 years, Nelson Mandela and his cellmate are released from prison. Mandela leaves the small elephant on the sill of his barred window, smiles and walks out into a changed world.

It has been questioned as to whether this story is true or not. One fact is accurate. Nelson Mandela was released from prison on February 11th, 1990 after 27 years of confinement. The rest . . . is all my imagination.