Setting the umbrella down in the entryway of the penthouse suite, Mart kicked off first one, then the other muddy shoe onto the tiled floor. Spring in New York City could be so bloody messy. St. Patrick’s Day didn’t quite equate to spring but close enough, Mart rationalized. At first, he’d strolled through the shower, humming “Singin’ in the Rain” imagining himself as Gene Kelly. He even did a side kick like he’d seen the dancer perform and ended up in a mud puddle for his efforts. When it became clear that the rainsquall would only get worse he’d sped up, his umbrella blown inside out.
The ever-cheerful Mart let nothing get him down. He stooped to pet Witchy, Diana’s black longhaired cat as she rubbed against his damp slacks. Still whistling, he ambled into the brightly lit kitchen. His raven-haired wife greeted him with a peck on the cheek and handed him a green frosted cupcake, which he immediately shoved into his watering mouth.
“Oh, yeah, Baby, bring it on!” Contentment washed over his being. His beautiful wife and a sugar fix at the same time. Absolute heaven!
“Sit down, Sweetie, and have a glass of milk with your chocolate cupcake. It’ll help neutralize the calories.” Diana smiled sweetly at her husband of twelve days. “How is your day going?”
“Pretty well, actually, until I jumped in a mud puddle,” he said, and grinned at the memory of his antic. “And, would you believe one of my students said they’d lost their homework? Even at the college level, students can be so clueless. Oh, well – c’est la vie.”
“Gee, I haven’t done that in years, if ever,” Diana commented. “How about you?”
“Me? Nah, I’ve never ever misplaced a homework assignment in my entire life. Don’t you know that never losing your homework is a prerequisite for becoming a prof?” Mart licked his fingers and held out his hand. “More please.”
“Save room for dinner. You don’t want to spoil your appetite.” She peeked into the crock-pot stuffed with corned beef cabbage and onions and carrots. “This is almost done , and Mary will be here at seven. You want to wash up? “
“I thought we were having an evening to ourselves,” Mart said, washing his hands at the kitchen sink.
“Don’t you remember me telling you about my friend Mary, who’s a writer, coming over tonight? I put it on the calendar.” She pointed to the kitchen calendar. The March picture showed a blonde, pig-tailed girl playing hopscotch with a red setter sitting patiently for her to play with him.
Mart peered over his new glasses at the date and Diana’s perky lettering in green felt tip that read – “Mary at seven, dinner here.” He’d given her a set of colored markers as a gift last month, and she faithfully used appropriate colors on the calendar and other craft projects. Mart liked the air of festiveness it added to the homey kitchen calendar.
“You’ll love her. She couldn’t make it to our wedding, and we set this up a few weeks ago because she’s leaving tomorrow for London to do research on her new book.”
“Let’s have green beer with our corned beef and cabbage, okay?”
Just then the doorbell rang and Diana said, “You color the beer, I’ll get the door.”
Mart scrounged through the cupboard and found some green food coloring. Then he located three bottles of Moose Drool. His mouth began watering again. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the black cat saunter by.
“Mary, I’d like you to meet my husband, Dr. Mart Belden. Mart, please greet Mary Clausen, writer extraordinaire.”
Mary carried a bike helmet under one arm and stretched out her other hand to shake Mart’s. “I’m so glad to meet you, Doctor. Di has told me so much about you. Please forgive my helmet.”
“Why?” Mart quipped. “Has it done something wrong? Here, let me take it for you. And please call me Mart.”
“I rode my bicycle over here,” she said apologetically. “It’s in the front hall. Hope you don’t mind.”
“It’s right at home with my muddy shoes. Think nothing of it.” Mart placed the helmet on a high stool under the counter that ran around two sides of the white kitchen. “Have a seat. We’re serving green beer ala St. Paddy’s Day.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Mary said, and sat down next to her helmet.
“Dinner will be ready shortly,” Diana said.
“It smells heavenly,” Mary remarked, pulling off a multi-colored scarf and set it atop her headgear.
“You two have a lot in common, you know,” Diana said, reaching in the cupboard for the serving platter. “Mart, why don’t you pour the beers and you and Mary can sit at the dining room table. I’ll only be another minute.”
Mart ushered Mary into the dining room and pulled out a chair with a view of the New York skyline. The sun had set an hour before yet a tinge of orange still lingered on the horizon.
“Lovely view,” Mary commented as she began to sit down.
“Meow!” The longhaired black cat bolted from the chair nearly causing it to tip over.
Unfortunately, Mary jumped back, knocking an elbow into Mart’s gut and stepping on his foot.
“No problem!” Mart gasped. “So sorry for Witchy Cat coming unglued!”
“Did I hurt you, Mart?” Mary apologized.
“Not in the least,” Mart lied. He dusted the dining room chair with his hand, hoping no long black hairs would stick to his guest’s derriere when she finally sat down.
She started to laugh, a full-bellied whoop, her dark eyes catching his blue orbs. Mart grinned back at her, rubbing his hand on his stomach and his wounded foot across the carpeted floor.
“What’s going on?” Diana called from the kitchen.
“Nothing, Mother!” Mary giggled. “We’re just fighting over who gets to sit with Witchy!”
Diana appeared at the door, a platter of St. Patrick’s Day dinner in hand. The cat streaked by. Diana tried to sidestep her pet but both her high heels caught on the carpet.
“This is the last straw with that cat!” Diana squealed.
As if in slow motion, the platter flew into the air and the St. Patrick Day’s dinner rained down on the trio. As the cabbage caught Mart on the side of his face, he thought he saw a derisive look on Witchy’s pussy face as she flew from the room.
This is a story that came out of the 12th Jixanny in which writers were encouraged to write 1,000 words a day for at least 28 days. I accomplished this feat.
During the month of February, 2012, I decided to take some old CWPs (Circle Writing Project) and use their respective elements. The vignettes I wrote at the time were in order from 1.1 to 2.5 and included some of the special Jixaversary CWPs. That's why you'll see some words underlined in green or red. Each of the stories deals primarily with one character. This one is about Mart and includes Di and Mary who we most lovingly know as MaryC and is from Springtime CWP #10 (1/11/04). MaryC provided the perfect edits and comments. Thank you, Mary, so very much for your tenacity.
No. of words = 1,082
The ever-cheerful Mart let nothing get him down. He stooped to pet Witchy, Diana’s black longhaired cat as she rubbed against his damp slacks. Still whistling, he ambled into the brightly lit kitchen. His raven-haired wife greeted him with a peck on the cheek and handed him a green frosted cupcake, which he immediately shoved into his watering mouth.
“Oh, yeah, Baby, bring it on!” Contentment washed over his being. His beautiful wife and a sugar fix at the same time. Absolute heaven!
“Sit down, Sweetie, and have a glass of milk with your chocolate cupcake. It’ll help neutralize the calories.” Diana smiled sweetly at her husband of twelve days. “How is your day going?”
“Pretty well, actually, until I jumped in a mud puddle,” he said, and grinned at the memory of his antic. “And, would you believe one of my students said they’d lost their homework? Even at the college level, students can be so clueless. Oh, well – c’est la vie.”
“Gee, I haven’t done that in years, if ever,” Diana commented. “How about you?”
“Me? Nah, I’ve never ever misplaced a homework assignment in my entire life. Don’t you know that never losing your homework is a prerequisite for becoming a prof?” Mart licked his fingers and held out his hand. “More please.”
“Save room for dinner. You don’t want to spoil your appetite.” She peeked into the crock-pot stuffed with corned beef cabbage and onions and carrots. “This is almost done , and Mary will be here at seven. You want to wash up? “
“I thought we were having an evening to ourselves,” Mart said, washing his hands at the kitchen sink.
“Don’t you remember me telling you about my friend Mary, who’s a writer, coming over tonight? I put it on the calendar.” She pointed to the kitchen calendar. The March picture showed a blonde, pig-tailed girl playing hopscotch with a red setter sitting patiently for her to play with him.
Mart peered over his new glasses at the date and Diana’s perky lettering in green felt tip that read – “Mary at seven, dinner here.” He’d given her a set of colored markers as a gift last month, and she faithfully used appropriate colors on the calendar and other craft projects. Mart liked the air of festiveness it added to the homey kitchen calendar.
“You’ll love her. She couldn’t make it to our wedding, and we set this up a few weeks ago because she’s leaving tomorrow for London to do research on her new book.”
“Let’s have green beer with our corned beef and cabbage, okay?”
Just then the doorbell rang and Diana said, “You color the beer, I’ll get the door.”
Mart scrounged through the cupboard and found some green food coloring. Then he located three bottles of Moose Drool. His mouth began watering again. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the black cat saunter by.
“Mary, I’d like you to meet my husband, Dr. Mart Belden. Mart, please greet Mary Clausen, writer extraordinaire.”
Mary carried a bike helmet under one arm and stretched out her other hand to shake Mart’s. “I’m so glad to meet you, Doctor. Di has told me so much about you. Please forgive my helmet.”
“Why?” Mart quipped. “Has it done something wrong? Here, let me take it for you. And please call me Mart.”
“I rode my bicycle over here,” she said apologetically. “It’s in the front hall. Hope you don’t mind.”
“It’s right at home with my muddy shoes. Think nothing of it.” Mart placed the helmet on a high stool under the counter that ran around two sides of the white kitchen. “Have a seat. We’re serving green beer ala St. Paddy’s Day.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Mary said, and sat down next to her helmet.
“Dinner will be ready shortly,” Diana said.
“It smells heavenly,” Mary remarked, pulling off a multi-colored scarf and set it atop her headgear.
“You two have a lot in common, you know,” Diana said, reaching in the cupboard for the serving platter. “Mart, why don’t you pour the beers and you and Mary can sit at the dining room table. I’ll only be another minute.”
Mart ushered Mary into the dining room and pulled out a chair with a view of the New York skyline. The sun had set an hour before yet a tinge of orange still lingered on the horizon.
“Lovely view,” Mary commented as she began to sit down.
“Meow!” The longhaired black cat bolted from the chair nearly causing it to tip over.
Unfortunately, Mary jumped back, knocking an elbow into Mart’s gut and stepping on his foot.
“No problem!” Mart gasped. “So sorry for Witchy Cat coming unglued!”
“Did I hurt you, Mart?” Mary apologized.
“Not in the least,” Mart lied. He dusted the dining room chair with his hand, hoping no long black hairs would stick to his guest’s derriere when she finally sat down.
She started to laugh, a full-bellied whoop, her dark eyes catching his blue orbs. Mart grinned back at her, rubbing his hand on his stomach and his wounded foot across the carpeted floor.
“What’s going on?” Diana called from the kitchen.
“Nothing, Mother!” Mary giggled. “We’re just fighting over who gets to sit with Witchy!”
Diana appeared at the door, a platter of St. Patrick’s Day dinner in hand. The cat streaked by. Diana tried to sidestep her pet but both her high heels caught on the carpet.
“This is the last straw with that cat!” Diana squealed.
As if in slow motion, the platter flew into the air and the St. Patrick Day’s dinner rained down on the trio. As the cabbage caught Mart on the side of his face, he thought he saw a derisive look on Witchy’s pussy face as she flew from the room.
This is a story that came out of the 12th Jixanny in which writers were encouraged to write 1,000 words a day for at least 28 days. I accomplished this feat.
During the month of February, 2012, I decided to take some old CWPs (Circle Writing Project) and use their respective elements. The vignettes I wrote at the time were in order from 1.1 to 2.5 and included some of the special Jixaversary CWPs. That's why you'll see some words underlined in green or red. Each of the stories deals primarily with one character. This one is about Mart and includes Di and Mary who we most lovingly know as MaryC and is from Springtime CWP #10 (1/11/04). MaryC provided the perfect edits and comments. Thank you, Mary, so very much for your tenacity.
No. of words = 1,082
