TheBanyanTree: From FB

[Robin Tennant-Wood]

A happy story. We need more happy stories in our lives. Thanks for that,
Monique.

R

On 17 April 2015 at 21:31, Theta Brentnall <tybrent at gmail.com> wrote:

> This is what happens when the sun comes out in Portland. People come
> outside and have their own little parades. Because the sun is shining.
>
> What a happy story.
>
> Theta
>
> Sent from my iPad
>
> > On Apr 16, 2015, at 1:19 PM, Monique Colver <monique.colver at gmail.com>
> wrote:
> >
> > The sun shone down upon the land, and in the streets there was great
> > rejoicing, and a hastily planned parade, which is the best kind, because
> > there's no chance to think, "Oh, this is going to look stupid," before
> the
> > procession starts, so the dogs with party hats and the cats on leashes
> and
> > the high school float start their meandering through town, and the
> veterans
> > of other wars join in, some of them in uniform, some of them with only
> the
> > pajamas they woke up in. There was no chance to dress appropriately, but
> > since it was a last minute parade there was no need to.
> >
> > The church bells rang, mysteriously starting up as if the force of the
> > parade had made it happen, but it was only Mr Swenson, pushing the right
> > buttons at the right time. He'd made a successful career out of pushing
> > buttons, and now that he was retired he jumped (not literally, he was too
> > old for those sorts of gymnastics) at any opportunity to push buttons
> again.
> >
> > Miss Kravitz from the end of the street, from the ramshackle house that
> > looked as if even a reputable ghost would avoid it, came out on her front
> > porch, something she rarely did, and began waving the only banners she
> had,
> > her brightly colored bras, all different colors, as if Miss Kravitz were
> a
> > toucan and not a down on her luck former tax preparer. She waved
> > enthusiastically, she swung those bras so hard she lost her a grip a
> couple
> > of times, and red and purple underwear went flying into the street.
> >
> > The parade goers didn't mind, not much anyway, because the sun was out,
> and
> > the marching band, which was a piccolo, two tubas, and a bass drum, was
> > making such a racket.
> >
> > From his office two streets over the mayor heard, and he rushed to see
> what
> > all the commotion was about, leaving behind two assistants who were so
> busy
> > discussing Mad Men that they'd missed the concept of the parade all
> > together. The mayor would never let them forget that faux pas, for he
> loved
> > to lead off all the parades, walking in front like a drum major, except
> for
> > his lack of discernible skills. He raced to the front of the parade,
> though
> > in his condition it was more like a quick shuffle. But the parade was
> short
> > and he reached the front quickly.
> >
> > By the time the sudden parade reached the end of downtown there were more
> > participants than watchers, for everyone wanted to join in, even the
> > chickens kept by the Hansons, and the ducks that were always looking for
> > water.
> >
> > It was the first day of summer, the best day.
>