Ed’s Edsel

friday fictioneer  “You can’t park that thing here.  What would the neighbors say?  If you don’t move that … that…. piece of junk by noon, I’ll have it towed!”


Piece of junk? I thought to myself.  This was a customized Edsel for Pete’s sake…. altered to accept a quick-attach bucket and backhoe…. it was one of a kind.

It would come in handy around the neighborhood, moving a pile of dirt, digging out old  shrubs.  It was perfection. The yellow safety color was an added plus; visible for miles.

Just needed a decal….Ed’s Digging…  service like back in the 50’s.   And beyond.



Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, photo credit this week to Jean L Hays.

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After a brief intermission of rain, the combines are back in the corn fields.  Soybean harvest was completed last week.  It’s a relief to have that part done, because weather can wreak havoc on the beans if they are left in the field.

Corn harvest takes longer.  It involves grain dryers, storage bins, grain carts, and long hours unloading trucks full of grain. While we haul almost all of our soybeans straight to the grain terminal, we store all of our corn on the farm so there is more labor involved;  hauling and unloading.  Seems like there are more things that can go wrong as well.  We have a “new”  grain dryer this season which has a larger capacity.  When we fired it up for the first time, it blew a transformer on a nearby electric pole, so there was a delay waiting for the power company to arrive and fix that. There’s always an occasional flat tire to fix, too.

changing tire

My job, as usual, is keeping everyone fed and watered.  It can be a full time job on busy days, especially when there are workers in different locations.  Sometimes the hardest part is finding everyone!  I have a list of foods that, in my opinion are easy to fix and deliver to workers who don’t want to slow down to eat, but need nourishment.

Friday it rained enough to bring everything to a halt, so we went out for supper, and Saturday we went out again with friends for a nice meal.  It was nice to have a break in the action.





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Some saw a table for two or three, hosting an impromptu lunch on a sunny day.

Others saw a much-needed break in the daily routine… fresh air, laughter, conversations with friends and coworkers.

Charles saw none of that.  

He saw perspiration and aching shoulders. He smelled the odor of ammonia and felt water sloshing against his legs as he shuffled around the building.  He saw the indifference in the eyes of others as they passed by without noticing. He saw the loneliness of his life reflected back at him.  

“Hey buddy!  You missed a spot!”

Charles cynically continued his work.   


This week’s photo for Friday Fictioneer is provided by Melanie Greenwood.

Our hostess Rochelle Wisoff-Fields has kept the 100 word flash fiction going for over two years.  Read what others had to say at

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Industrial sounds echoed across the sound of water. I couldn’t tell how far away I was from either of the sounds.  Throbbing pain on the left side of my head made me feel around for something to hold onto.  I clutched cold metal under my fingertips and was suddenly spooked by a whoosh of air and a rattle behind me.

“Look out, lady!  This is a bike lane.”  

I halted, afraid to move.  

I waited for human voices. 

The absence of words or laughter set me into a panic.

“Ma’am? Your head is bleeding.  Do you need help?”

I sobbed.


Happy 2nd Anniversary to the creator of Friday Fictioneers…. Rochelle WIsoff-Fields. Thanks to The Reclining Gentleman for the photo that sparked our ideas this week.

Follow this link to read more fascinating stories:


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Photo Credit Douglas M MacIlroy


Closing time.  

Martha thought this was the saddest time of the year.  It was the end of early morning walks on the beach, searching for shells and sea glass.  It was the end of carefree summer days, reading under the umbrella on hot lazy afternoons.  It also meant returning home to forecasts of fog, rain,  icy snowy days and  darkness in the late afternoon.  This would be the first “empty nest” winter. The kids were both settled on campus.

It would just be Martha and Bill for the first time in many years.

 Martha smiled.



One hundred words (mine was 98 this week)  Hosted by Rochelle for the weekly Friday Fictioneers.  You will enjoy the stories there.  I guarantee.




Friday Fictioneer

Hickory Nut Cake

Originally posted on Retired Ruth :

I recently found my mom’s recipe for Hickory Nut Cake.  I am reposting this and adding the recipe at the end…..

My mom’s hickory nut cake was the best.  It was moist and nutty.

It was a supreme labor of love.  Hickory nut cakes don’t come out of a box. They are created over a long period of time.

hickory nut cake

An old gnarled shaggy-bark hickory tree grew behind our barn across the creek.  It stood alone in the middle of the pasture.   When other trees surrounding it were sacrificed for wood or to clear the way for more farm ground, someone spared the hickory tree.     After a hard frost the nuts would begin to fall to the ground and my mother and I and sometimes my brother would trek back to the tree and gather them.   Some already had worm holes.  We tossed those out into the…

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The Sounds of Silence

The silence was overwhelming.  Surrounded by instruments, but no music.  In her mind, she played the tunes she had listened to growing up.  Blue grass, rhythm and blues, and finally rock and roll.

She smiled as she pictured herself with her “portable record player”, the one that played 45’s and LP’s.  She still loved the scratchy sounds of the needle cutting its way through the music and watching each record drop down onto the turntable.  Vinyl had more character than the clean sounds of today’s CD’s.

How could she live without it?  How long before she forgot?





Rochelle Wyss-Fields

Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


This week Rochelle Wisoff Fields gives us a photo of her own to write about.   100 words, more or less to tell a story.  Find more stories at this link: