TheBanyanTree: From FB

[Monique Colver]

I've been thinking of you Robin.

Xoxo
On Apr 18, 2015 3:04 AM, "Robin Tennant-Wood" <rtennantwood at gmail.com>
wrote:

> 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.
> >
>