The Klatch · From Eunice
I Wore a Coat Monday and So Did Everybody Else
Eunice on the week the year turned over: a coat before seven, camouflage day at the school, a banquet reported secondhand by four men who each had it slightly different, and the pies.
MISQUAH — Monday morning I put on a coat to walk to the Daybreak and when I got there four other people had also put on a coat, and not one of us said anything about it, and I want to record that because in about three weeks we will all be complaining and it will be useful to know that there was one morning when we simply got dressed.
The table has had the banquet four different ways. Four men were there and there are four versions, and the one thing all four agree on is that Dale Ryberg stood up and asked them to keep the asterisk that he did not need kept. Two of them think this was noble. One thinks it was showing off. The fourth said the meat raffle ran late and would not be drawn further.
Monday was camouflage day at the school and I saw a boy of about seven walking to the bus in a full suit of it including the hat, holding his mother's hand, and I had to stop and stand there a minute. His mother was in a parka. It was forty-one degrees.
Seventeen households have pledged thirty-four pies for Friday and I am one of them and I would like to say that I was asked by a sixteen-year-old who came to my door, which is the correct way to be asked, and which is the whole reason there will be thirty-four pies.
The ladder in front of the brewery is gone. I do not know what to tell you. It was there for five weeks and I had got used to it and Saturday it was not there and the wall looks wrong.
My jars are on the shelf and I have not looked at them since the fifth. The girls ran Saturday. It has been a good week at the tables.
The other thing about Monday is that it was the first morning nobody mentioned the rain. Twenty-eight days and the table has finally stopped saying “we could use it,” which I take to mean we have all quietly moved from inconvenience to something else and none of us wants to be the one who says the word out loud at breakfast.
Kenny Tvedt has a letter in this paper about sprinklers and I will say that he read most of it to us Thursday before he sent it, and that the table made him take out one sentence, and that he took it out and it is a better letter. That is what the table is for.