Category Archives: Published Short Stories

We Made It Through December (a true Christmas Story)

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We Made It Through December

I remember one of the first few Christmases in Tucson. We had just run out of disposable funds about a week before Christmas.

I mean, we were holding our own, the bills were paid, there was just no extra. And I don’t remember the exact evening, but I did have a couple of bucks so I bought an Arizona lottery ticket, and I stayed up to watch the numbers, which I seldom do.
You know, sometimes people think I’m a little lite on the religion side.
Well, there’s plenty of that goin’ on already.
As for me, that night when we hit 4 and it might have been 5, numbers, I woke Kathy. It was going to be around $1800.

All of my life, I’ve felt something was watching over me. Things seemed to happen ‘just in time’ or ‘right place at the right time’ or something on my shoulder slapping my hands when I was about to make a mistake. I freely talk about it to the right people. Today I call it my ‘Muse’ whom I tease and taunt constantly. lol And sometimes…. I think I get paid back for that! lololol
But that evening and through the night I hardly slept.
And the next day, I don’t think my feet touched the ground. I took off early and went down to the lottery place and turned in my ticket.
The lady left my sight and came back with the cash (maybe a check) I think. Of course, I had to sign several times here and then there.
Anyway, 4 kids had a wonderful Christmas morning, we paid a few bills and I was left with a feeling…. I mean, within 4 days of Christmas, we were taken care of. What were the odds?
I didn’t get wordy in my thoughts. I just said ‘Thank You’ silently a hundred times.
It’s a kind of grateful that will make your nose run every time you think about it.
I got something in my eye right now.
Merry Christmas to all, Ron

So here’s Ol’ Merle Haggard tellin’ his story. It was an easy one for me to do …… we made it through December. rdd

If We Make It Through December (a Merle Haggard cover) Just click on the song title… rdd

 

 

Overflocking (inspirational read)

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Overflocking

Remembering that I grew up in a time when we replaced the Canadian goose eggs with plaster of Paris eggs to prevent the DDT fragile eggshells from being crushed while the effects of DDT were wearing down after it’s ban.
I am a conservative maybe and, (in the sense of realistic conservationist), constitutionalist.
I’m not saying Republican/Radically Christianized non-believer.
I’m saying that learning from nature has been an important part of my upbringing no matter what left turn humans tried to wash me in.
So now, having said that, growing up as I did, being an observer and growing up within a curious, Bible belt, farming, hunter gatherer culture had its effects on me.
So, I’m going to ask you to think about this. I’m not asking you to saturate yourself in it. I’m not asking you to not believe in what you believe!
I’m asking you to think about overpopulation of humans. I’m asking you to think about the cruelty of raising flocks of them that have no hope of ‘quality of life’ for any one or dozens of reasons.
I remember that we boosted populations of other species until they became infectious due to over population. I remember that we artificially increased their numbers so high, they began to die from enteritis and other diseases. I remember when we had to increase the harvest to decrease numbers to within health positive numbers.


There is a whole lot to think about here. I have to stop now to let the people that can understand this, think about it! Fortunately there are many of you that do understand that we are killing ourselves from many different directions.
So, today and on, be a good steward of ourselves and the earth. Don’t let it drive you crazy, but do what you can do to educate, self-medicate your own stewardship of yourself and everything around you, give yourself some credit for what you do, and brain think while using your heart think as a filter! rdd
Herein lies the lesson for today. 11:03:17

Nature and I Breathed In Time (Indian Summer)

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I remember going goose and duck hunting on Lake Traverse, all by myself.

The ducks and geese would come off the lake and fly low over the haystacks up at the north end islands.

I’d climb to the top of the stacks, take off my heavy brush coat, and lay on my back, my coat a pillow, just watching them.

Even while they were within shooting range, I had plenty of shots all of the time there, so I’d just watch………… and maybe take a nap in the last days of the year, when you could do that in the heat of the sun in South Dakota.

I had no need to disturb anything while I watched, geese, ducks, clouds and the Indian Summer spider webs drift by.

……… Nature and I breathed in time. rdd

The Best Men

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The Best Men

The best men know spear chucking, archery, running swiftly, kill the mammoth are natural, and when accompanied by the fine arts of roasting, and saucing, tilling and wenching are as important! …… These are good,…… these are good and make the whole man. A kerchief around the neck seasoned with sweat, tanned crown of thinning silver hair…… some leather and a glint in his eye ……….. Aye! ….I’m almost out of bourbon….. so a bit of shopping too! Aye…..LOL, LOL

….. and when the true woman half of the pair with her particulars, walks up and gives you a sweet peck, then looks you in the eye with her particular grin….. you can both get on with spark. rdd
Good Friday Evening to you.

Ronald Douglas Drobeck

The Rest

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THE REST

This summer, on my way home from visiting all of my good friends between Tucson and the far corners of South Dakota, I stopped at a rest stop on I-25, above Trinidad, Colorado. It was 8:30 at night, terribly windy with heavy driving rain, and I was tired.

Not wanting to do the expense and formality of a rent, a room, turning on the TV and falling asleep, I had prepared a space in the back of the Trail Blazer for one man to stretch out on a camping cushion, with a pillow, and a warm blanket, in the valley between all of my stuff.

After having been cooped up in a house, doing housework, 3 Chihuahua’s and all the stuff going on in the world for a couple of years, I lay down in that space with the rain tapping on the roof, safe, the wind rocking my nest, and slept the sleep of a Weary Traveler for the next six hours. What a great feeling.

Then, trained as I am, I poured myself back into the driver’s seat, fueled up at the first place I found, and took myself home, refreshed and excited without question.

The rest, so hard to explain.

My Ism’s

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Crooked people tend to collide more often because they can’t go straight!

Like soldiers advancing into battle, not knowing if they were going to come out of this one alive, we have to take the chance that the mass of good will overcome the mass of bad. There are NO guarantees! …. Fortunately, there is a weakness in bad that bad can’t overcome, which gives us the edge in the end. Unfortunately, we are forced  to do the battle. rdd 07/29/16 VOTE

Welcome to me!

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To Whom it May Concern:

I have been forgetting and misplacing things my whole life. I started walking into rooms and forgetting why I was there since I was sixteen. I’ve never been able to remember names even if I like you. I’ve gotten lost driving at night forever, and spell something correctly 5 times and then miss it once.
I can’t type as fast as I think so I miss words. I will lose a train of thought because a new one has jumped in the middle.
I think in pictures so seem to be a little slow sometimes. I have to interpret everything I see. Often times, when people are talking to me, something you said sends me on a mental movie adventure as my imagination takes over. (One of my favorite things to do).
Sometimes I have to refine my sentences to fit the people I am talking to, because I already know what you are going to say, or YOU won’t understand what I just said or am about to say. That causes me to look at you funny which you interpret as stupid.
SO, DON’T TELL ME IT’S BECAUSE I’M GETTING OLD!!!
I’ve been like this for frickin’-frack ever!
YOU ARE GOING TO HAVE TO ADJUST YOURSELF TO ME, or just wave hello as you keep going away. I will attempt to acknowledge that I saw your greeting if I’m on even the same planet. If I do not acknowledge, forgive me, for I may have been on another adventure. rdd

Prairie Spirit

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Prairie Spirit

Ronald Douglas Drobeck

 

One sunny day, while driving for the Big Stone Cheese Factory, I’d made my right turn off of Hwy 212 onto a gravel road somewhere below the Wilmot Whipple farm.

I picked up milk here and there until I had to downshift my way up a long gravel incline that eventually allowed me to overlook the great Whetstone Valley on my right.

As I began to gain speed again at the top of the hill, a girl with long black hair trailing behind her was galloping her ‘paint’, bareback, on the prairie grass covered hilltop to the right of me.

She appeared as if I was witnessing a flashback, a moving picture of this black haired girl riding over that rolling hill with the valley in the background. There was the hill green and the sky blue, the rocks and the prairie grass, a little haze off toward the eastern horizon, that black hair waving in time with the gallop, and the white and brown horse, all flashing past my little truck window frame.

In an instant, this vision of the prairie hill’s past burned into my mind, somewhere southeast of Sisseton, South Dakota.

If asked, I would say this was one of my favorite snapshot memories as I was taken purposely back in time for an instant.

Whimsy from a prairie spirit?

Yes, romantically my mind tells me it was. I won’t give that up.

At this writing, you are the first to know. I’ve kept it to myself until now.

Why do I feel that a prairie spirit ‘touched’ me?

There is more to the story!

This spirit and I may have made contact a few years before…… in another story, on another special day.

Big Stone Sanctum

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Big Stone Sanctum

By Ronald Drobeck

 

On occasional Saturdays, I would see this little duck boat sort of a thing.

It looked like a pair hoods from old 40’s Plymouths or such, welded together in the middle so that it resembled a half a  football, floating, sort of.

*****

    005087-R1-27-28_2 I was the head waterfront counselor at the Scout camp after I had been a C.I.T. (counselor in training) for a couple of years before that. I would be the only one at the cabin there on the weekends, because that week’s campers had all gone home, the new ones hadn’t arrived yet and the C.I.T. under me had either gone home for the weekend or the new one wasn’t there yet for his two weeks.

So, the little boat would only appear on Saturdays. Less noise.

I would see two knees, a fishing rod leaning over the side at an upward angle. Its fishing line hanging limp from the line guides, it’s hook, bait and bobber somewhere inside of the boat.

At each end a lanyard was tied to a tree branch that hung over the water allowing the boat to gently sway and rock on the water.

Always the same, I never saw ‘him’. I only saw knees, as his head and torso lay still, beneath the gunwales, napping I think in his tight little rocking crib.

I never made a sound or bothered him, for the knees looked like a workin’ man’s knees under those coverall pant legs!

I always figured it was the farmer to the south of Camp Iyataca, his one moment of peace each week. He may have told somebody he was going ‘fishing’. They, or I would never disturb him. What he wanted, and what he needed were very obvious to me.

Now, as the head scout at the waterfront, I had all sorts of canoes and boats at my disposal. It never occurred to me that I could do the same, until now fifty years later.

One time, feeling a little exhausted, and maybe a little weary from a bug or the 24/6’s I was doing, I did go into the supply tent across from my cabin, and lay down in the rescue stretcher one Saturday morning. You know, one of those ‘MASH’ stretchers that was chicken wire on a metal frame with a divider between the legs. In the five years I was at the camp, I think it was the only time it was used.

I did fall into a sound sleep, missed lunch, and woke up in the afternoon as the breeze was dying for the evening, as it usually did on Big Stone Lake. I awoke to the smell of the surplus army tent canvas preservative, and the musty smell of a lot of supply tent old stuff like 50 year old kapok, and hemp rope.

I awoke well rested, nobody missed me, and I felt like I had gotten away with something.

Every other week, I did drive into Milbank to see what was going on with my friends, grab a bag of assorted Schad’s stuff, and say hello to my mother if she was there. It was basically a loooooooong Schad’s run first of all. I needed a change from the Trojan stuff I was eating in camp. Then I’d go out to Ken’s Drive In to see if there were any hops that couldn’t live without me. There were none, but at least I had hopes! At least I ended up with a bag full of Schads, and a bag full of thirty five cent cheeseburgers.

If there was no dance in town, I’d head back to my shack on the waterfront.

Anyway, on Sundays, the guy would never be in his boat, I’d fish a little from the sand point to the left of the swimming area, cast a little from the swimming dock, then walk to the other end of the camp to the chow tent. I’d walk passed the new batch of campers arriving from the Arrowhead district.  I’d prepare myself to be the evenings master of ceremonies at the ‘welcoming’ camp fire. On to another week of fun in the sun.

Then suddenly, my summers ended when I got too old to be a Boy Scout. The last afternoon, I drove away, not realizing that it was over.

I did take a lot of memories with me! There are many tales to tell with many witnesses! Ha! I’m thinkin’ there are people reading this that saw me there and know some of the tales.

*****

     But, the memory that drifts into my thoughts the most is when I am weary. The mind shot of the napping knees in the boat.

It has become my symbol of rest. I wanted to do that some days. Just away. Away from it all. I wouldn’t even want the fish to bother me! Just like him.

I have this vision! I had this vision today. I don’t know why! At my new age, I can fall asleep anywhere, anytime, and I do! When my eyes are closed, my dogs won’t even bother me. Sometimes I open them just enough to watch them make their ‘better not disturb’ decision just like I did fifty years ago. See, it’s nature at it’s finest. Do Not Disturb Sleeping Man!

I guess I get to take this vision with me in my forever collection! Just in case I need it again.

 

The End