Janet Patterson
Bio
Most of the time I tell tall tales in the Southern Appalachian tradition. Sometimes I blather on about other things. I am a pantser, yard-farmer, pagan, and Zen student who feels a close connection to the Earth and her creations,
Stories (8/0)
Brianna and the Owls
It was after midnight. Mom and Dad had finally settled down, passed out on the stained couch with beer cans littering the floor. The TV rattled on about some stupid ball game. Brianna held her breath and strained to hear sounds beneath the loud Yankee commentators. Yep, the snore symphony was in progress. Dad grunted and gurgled. Mom squeaked and hissed. They wouldn’t stir until late morning and would not miss her until afternoon the next day, if at all.
By Janet Patterson2 years ago in Fiction
The Camels of Misfit Farm Chapter 5
Maura was rattled after her encounter with the eccentric fortune teller. After all the years she spent in southern California she assumed she would be accustomed to colorful personalities, but apparently not. Perhaps it was because this one came too close to the truth. She wanted a quiet, comfortable life after the crisis that sent her rocketing cross country in her beat-up old car. As soon as the sale of the farm closed and FedEx delivered the keys she headed East to the only place she had felt completely safe, even after so many years away.
By Janet Patterson2 years ago in Fiction
The Camels Of Misfit Farm Chapter 4
Maura listened to the soft clink of the stainless steel containers of milk as she drove her battered Subaru through Greenfield, an old mill town of 6500 people and the seat of Carson County. Her Grandmother used to call it "a wide spot in the road where tourists only stop to get gas and pee." It was 45 miles east of Haywood and 2000 feet lower in elevation. Haywood was a tourist mecca particularly attractive to liberal and artist types in the next county over. Driving "up the mountain" from Greenfield to Haywood was like traveling to a different planet due to the contrasts in culture and politics.
By Janet Patterson2 years ago in Fiction
The Camels of Misfit Farm Chapter 2
The pasture behind the barn was ten acres of rolling green vegetation surrounded by new barbed wire and fenceposts splashed with no-trespassing-purple paint. At the foot of Tester Mountain, the fence marked the border between the farm and Art Loeb National Forest, where granite outcroppings and wild rhododendrons overlooked the Chinquapin River. It was not a simple, flat pasture, rather a wild meadow dotted with large grey rocks, random young trees, and patches of milkweed and nettles among the grasses. It was unsuitable for hay but okay for grazing.
By Janet Patterson2 years ago in Fiction
The Camels of Misfit Farm
The early morning light was still dim when Maura heard Howard yipping. The high-pitched sounds pulled her away from her wrestling match with a budget spreadsheet, and she did not regret leaving the laptop. Howard usually only barked at box turtles, but this time he sounded frantic. She prayed he had not cornered a skunk again.
By Janet Patterson2 years ago in Fiction
Dear Bob
Dear Bob; aka Fuzzbutt, Doofus, Rrrrrrrrobert, and Shithead, I have lived with cats most of my life, but never one quite like you. Previous feline roommates have always been very laid back and well-behaved, as far as cats go. You, however, have been a very entertaining handful these past 5 years.
By Janet Patterson2 years ago in Petlife
What Is Wrong With Telling A Whopping Good Story?
Sweeties, I don't understand. I simply do .not. understand. I don't quite think I am demented (yet), although my body constantly reminds me of every minute of the 67 years I have spent in this incarnation. I am very aware of how resistant to change we old-timers can be as technology and social trends blow by faster than a fart in a whirlwind. Don't people tell stories anymore? Does everything have to be strictly literal? Or all about self-improvement? Or lists with titles containing dramatic words proven to produce the most clicks? Where has whimsy and humor, fantasy and invention gone?
By Janet Patterson3 years ago in Motivation
The Camels of Misfit Farm
Author's note: This is an aside from other stories that will appear about the camels in future posts. Sal was remarkably calm after Willis tried to investigate his glass of merlot. It is not every day that a glass of wine is tipped into your lap by a 1000-pound male camel. He laughed as Willis sampled his fruit and cheese.
By Janet Patterson3 years ago in Humans
