THE HANDYMAN

—written by Brendan Kelemen This one was printed in the 2006 Loyalhanna Review Literary Magazine, a publication of the Ligonier Valley Writers. Brendan’s father, Ed, claims he cannot “get away with anything” when there is a writer in the house. However, Ed said he “got even a few years later when he (Brendan) did the exact same thing with a newly purchased power saw.” The day was young. The saw was ready. Dad was about To cut a piece of wood. A bright flash! A loud report. The smell of burnt wire. A motionless saw. Its cord a limp broken tail Spitting out vicious electricity. And volumes of smoke.

THE SNITTY CAT LIKES PUMPKIN PIE?

—written by Carolyn C. Holland Imagine my surprise when I walked into the kitchen on Thanksgiving morning and discovered about a third of a dish of cooked pumpkin pie filling missing—like something had lapped it up! I guess I was naïve—I never knew CATS liked pumpkin pie! But Honey must have yearned to have a Thanksgiving meal. The next morning, another third of the pumpkin was gone. I determined to discover if the culprit snitching the pie filling was our snitty cat, Honey—although there was no other answer unless my hubby was playing tricks on me, which I doubted. That night, I cleared the counter, fetched the cat off the closet shelf

THE MUSICIAN by Jane

The Musician
—written by Jane Driver

The woman laid in the leaves of fall.
Daylight sun shining down upon her, her soul as parched as the dried leaves.
His music came as a sparkling creek, weaving around her.
Quenching her and bringing life to the sleeping.
Filling her until it overflowed in tears.
Her eyes opened and shone with the music.
 
The woman rose and, arms wrapped around herself, she slowly turned into the sun.
Turning a circle the music opened her arms to the world.
The wind and leaves blowing about her she felt the touch of God within her.
Seeing him in the distance she approached the musician.
Palms touching, he filled her with his talent.
He watched his music brought to life in her laughter and tears,
 
The woman danced under the starlight, eyes shining.
She had seen the Face of God.
She had felt the Grace of God.
She danced, her soul shining with the music’s light.
He never knew how his music enchanted her.
He only felt the music that he made.

JANE’S BIO

Beanery Writers Group welcomes Jane as a long-distance Internet member of our group. A newlywed, Jane lives in Arizona, a far cry from both southwestern Pennsylvania (the location of the Beanery Writers Group) and her home, Buffalo, N. Y. She barely survived a severe heart attack in her early forties. Her interests include writing, crafts and genealogy.

Jane’s postings in the BEANERY ONLINE LITERARY MAGAZINE, Vol. 1, include Mother New-Born Daughter Struggle and Janie’s Hope. The magazine also posted a ten segment story written by Jane. These can be read by clicking on 

DAVID Part 1 of a 10 Part Romance Story.

Please welcome Jane and enjoy her romance story and other posts.

JUST ANOTHER WEEKEND IN PARADISE

—written by Ed KelemenEd K. is the father of the two Kelemen poetry writers, Stephen and Brendan, previously posted in the Beanery Online Literary Magazine. Tonight’s writing is his first submission to the BEANERY ONLINE LITERARY MAGAZINE  Enjoy! I kissed my wife good-bye at the airport and assured her that everything would be fine while she and a couple of her school chums spent the weekend enjoying some Broadway Shows. “Look honey: I know that you and the boys will be bache-ing it; just don’t completely destroy the house while I’m gone.” “How can you even think that we might make a mess?” “Because I know you guys.” End of conversation. ~~~ I hurried home, fully expecting a weekend of just us guys doing some man things and enjoying one another’s company.

REACH OUT

—written by Emily

Too many people are dying and crying
 
while being swept under society’s rug
 
Too many mothers are helplessly sighing
 
while dead beat dads walk off and shrug
 
 
 
What is the planet coming to,
 
as the whole world falls to it’s knees
 
Why can’t we all come

LEFTOVER TURKEY

—written by Carolyn C. Holland
A decade ago our family ate “leftover” Turkey the day after Thanksgiving. Nothing unusual, you might say. However, this leftover turkey never made it to the oven on Thanksgiving Day. As I was preparing it, my husband Monte and I received a phone call that caused us to return the turkey to the refrigerator, get in our car and drive forty-five minutes to a hospital in an adjacent county.
We spent the holiday sitting in the family waiting room of the Westmoreland Hospital maternity ward. While there, we gratefully satisfied ourselves with meager Thanksgiving Day trappings in the hospital cafeteria, and even unsuccessfully tried to locate an open store for some better fixings.
For a month we had been on “maternity call.” Every activity we planned had the preface, “If we don’t get the call, we will be there—but if we do get the call, we won’t make it to” the engagement.
Grandparents understand this.
“The” call came on Thanksgiving Day. Our daughter, Sandra, and her husband, Greg, were expecting our first grandchild to arrive. We waited for the birth with the other set of grandparents.
While at the hospital, I reminisced about another time, when another food was put aside for a baby’s arrival…

THOUGHTS FOR DAVID

Words of wisdom for my son: Dearest David Faith matters. I’m not just talking religion here. I’m talking about believing in something… anything. It inspires, and drives the heart’s of those that possess it. Faith can be so very powerful. Love matters a great deal. It can lift you up and comfort you when everything else is falling down around you. It is the doorway to a seemingly endless stream of emotions. Love can be fierce, and gentle. Always keep your heart and eyes open. Love is ever-changing and unpredictable. Compassion… A little compassion can be the saving grace to someone in their darkest hour. Be warm, and caring… It’s contagious! Honesty is extremely important. My mother used to tell me that character is what you do when no one is looking.. Having the trust of someone is something that should be treasured and protected. Trust is hard to get, easy to lose, and even harder to gain again. Life is much easier when the people around you can trust you and believe in you. Be true to yourself and those around you. It won’t always be easy, but you will be stronger and happier for it. Take nothing and no one for granted. Life’s moments are dynamic and over in the blink of an eye. So intelligent, strong, and sweet… I am so proud of you, and so very lucky to be your mother. I believe in you always. Much Love, Emily

WATERPIPE by Brendan Kelemen

By Brendan Kelemen Klunk! Hisssssssssssssss. Did I go too far? I was ready to camp. The weather was ripe. Frantic waves Meant to warn. Jubilation, I thought. It made me feel warm. Just then I backed Over the water pipe. With the trailer And the car.

STEPHEN KELEMEN’S BIO

For those of you who haven’t read Stephen’s post, The Killer Kitten (it was posted in the BOLM Vol. 1 and on this site for a practice piece), click on the category WR/V KELEMEN S. It will be worth the effort!    Stephen Kelemen is a 14 year old writer with a twisted sense of humor, currently attending Ligonier Valley Middle School. He issues humorous epistles when the muse prods him. He can be contacted at Stephen.kel@verizon.net.