Thursday, April 3, 2008
9: 15 – 9:31, 10:56-11:12
I can’t do anymore to the Joyce story. I am out of ideas, for the last 3-4 days of revision. Therefore, I am going to put in the story of my granny B and the straw hat. I am now going to edit/revise that story.
Today I am going to take suggestions that my father gave me a while ago and work them into the story. He is a good writer and I always appreciates what he adds or thinks about my stories. The one suggestion that I don’t think I am going to change is the names used of the mother and father. I am writing my story in third person, but I am going to call them mama and daddy in the story to add intimacy. The only time I will use their real names is when they are talking to each other. I think that in a way by doing this it brings a third person story close to first person while still being written in third person. Tell me if it makes it confusing, but I hope is that it makes it personal and intimate. Changes I make will be made in blue. The original story can be found on my blog somewhere around Feb 17th or 18th.
The sun rose early over the south Alabama farm early Wednesday morning, spreading its light into Molly‘s window. Molly hopped out of bed and ran excitedly into the kitchen to see what her mama was doing. Mama was always up early getting a head start on the day. There was never a lack of work to do in the house or in the fields. This morning Mama was busy in the kitchen chipping off the scraps of ham left on the hambone from last night‘s meal. For tonight’s supper Mama was making a delicious ham pot pie, one of Molly’s favorites.
Mama turned and greeted her. “Good morning, Molly. Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, Mama.” Molly responded as she walked happily over to her mother. Mama bent down and Molly gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek.
“Sweetheart, I’m makin’ you some biscuits and eggs this morn’en for breakfast. Now go back to your room and get dressed for school while I finish fixin‘ your breakfast.”
“Yes, Mama” Molly replied as she joyfully waltzed back to her room. Molly’s mother was a happy-go-lucky woman who was full of fun and her personality rubbed off on Molly. As Molly entered her room she noticed a the morning breeze had closed her bedroom door. In a hurry to get dressed she swung open her door wide open. To her surprise it swung back at her. Something was wedged between her door and the wall that did not allow her door to open fully.
“Wonder what’s back there,” Molly thought to herself. Cocking her head to the side, she gingerly peeked her head around the door to see what was causing the problem. To her horror she found her father’s brand new straw hat.
In preparation for Easter Sunday her father purchased a new, expensive straw hat to wear to the large family gathering. He was one who liked fine things but could not often afford them. He had looked all over the house for a place to put his new hat until Sunday. On the back of Molly’s door was an unused hook, so he hung the hat there for safe keeping. Molly had simply forgotten. Now his new had was ruined. She knew that he would be upset and she was worried what she should do.
Molly knew that her father had already left the house for the day to work on the farm. Spring’s arrival caused a great amount of work to be done to get the land ready for this year’s crops. America had entered the Second World War just four short months earlier and there was already talk in the air about gas and food rationing. Her father knew that he could help the war effort by growing abundant crops of much needed food and ensuring the food arrives to the local farmers markets throughout the season.
Often one to dawdle, Molly quickly put on her flowered school dress and sheepishly walked back into the kitchen. Immediately her mother knew that something was wrong.
“What’s wrong, Baby?” Her mother questioned.
From behind her back the eight year old girl slowly pulled a crushed and rather sorry looking straw hat.
“Mama, It was an accident. I didn’t mean to mash it. I forgot that it was hangin on the back of my door and. . .” Before Molly could even finish the sentence, her mother scooped the hat from her and quietly hushed, “Don’t worry about it.”
“But Mama, it cost so much money and now it’s ruined. I’m so sorry.” Molly protested in a soft voice.
Her mother answered, “I’ll take care of it, but until then we must hide it so your father does not find it.” Then, Mama quickly opened the fitted kitchen cupboards and laid the hat among her pots and pans.
“He’ll never find it here.” They both softly chuckled.