And here is the Wannaskan Almanac for Wannaska World Wednesday, August 15, 2018, brought to you bythe Pennington County Humane Society. We strive to place pets into loving homes. Call 218-681-8045, email pawstrf@pawstrf.org, and check out our Pet Finder here.
August 15 is the 227 day of the year, with 138 days remaining until the end of the year, and 229 days remaining until April Fools Day.
Earth/Moon Almanac for August 15, 2018
Sunrise: 6:17am; Sunset: 8:40pm
Moonrise: 11:28am; Moonset: 11:07pm, waxing crescent
Temperature Almanac for August 15, 2018
Average Record Today
High 78 99 81
Low 57 35 58
August 15 Celebrations from National Day Calendar
August 15 is the 227 day of the year, with 138 days remaining until the end of the year, and 229 days remaining until April Fools Day.
Earth/Moon Almanac for August 15, 2018
Sunrise: 6:17am; Sunset: 8:40pm
Moonrise: 11:28am; Moonset: 11:07pm, waxing crescent
Temperature Almanac for August 15, 2018
Average Record Today
High 78 99 81
Low 57 35 58
August 15 Celebrations from National Day Calendar
- National Relaxation Day
- National Lemon Meringue Pie Day
August 15 Riddle
Why is 5 a bully to the other numbers from 0 to 10?*
August 15 Notable Historic Events, Literary or Otherwise, from On This Day
Why is 5 a bully to the other numbers from 0 to 10?*
August 15 Notable Historic Events, Literary or Otherwise, from On This Day
- 1620 Mayflower sets sail from Southampton, England, with 102 Pilgrims
- 1795 Joseph Haydn leaves England forever
- 1876 US law removes Indians from Black Hills after gold find
- 1911 Procter & Gamble unveils its Crisco shortening
- 1969 Woodstock Music & Art Fair opens in New York State on Max Yasgur's Dairy Farm
August 15 Author/Artist Birthdays, from On This Day
- 1771 Walter Scott
- 1785 Thomas De Quincey
- 1858 Edith Nesbit, The Story of the Treasure Seekers, Five Children and It
- 1885 Edna Ferber, American Beauty, Cimarron
- 1912 Julia Child
- 1954 Mary Jo Salter
Words I looked up this week: cant, casuistry, clathrate, cordite, depute, derogate, lubricious, obliviscence, onchoceriasis, pisculent, poteen, privet, quoits, synecdoche
Wannaska World 2018.08.15
Otto awoke the next morning to the smell of fresh bacon and the sizzle of butter-fried eggs rising up the stairs to his bedroom from the kitchen. Paula Peppenhorst prepared every single Sunday breakfast since her wedding to Peter 23 years, 3 months, and 14 days ago - even when she began working for Mantoy Industries in the plastic plant on the swing shift while pregnant with Otto, still nursing Gretchen, and hobbled by a broken foot from a forklift incident; but more on that later. Preternaturally attentive and ambitiously compulsive, Paula - known as Pep - embraced the symbiotic twin Teutonic virtues of self-discipline and structure above all others. Mrs. Peppenhorst was on board with the notion of unconditional love, as long as everyone understood her conditions. "Eggs up in 2, Otto."
"How does she do that!?" Otto had only just opened his eyes to the new day, but his mother had not only timed his breakfast perfectly; she announced its near readiness the moment he awoke, sight unseen. Otto's family moved into the old family farm house years before Otto was born. Small but sprawling, the two-story, third-generation farm home featured furnishings acquired in terms of legacy, functionality, comfort, price, style, and color - in that order of priority. The kitchen sat in the physical and psychological center of the home, where all were welcome, and where Paula had the last word. In the center of the center sat Paula's green, wall-mount, rotary dial Southern Bell equipped with a tangled 25-foot receiver cord and receiver shoulder rest. Paula personally mounted it to the blank end of the "kitchen table" - two tall back-to-back old style kitchen wall cabinets topped with the homestead's original front door and a plate of tempered glass surrounded by set of National Office Furniture metal industrial barstools with backrests (salvaged from the '88 VFW fire). Pep had the reputation as a do-it-yourself kind of gal.
Paula posted two household rules on the fridge, which she applied to any sentient being who set foot in the house: 1. Be kind. 2. Tell the truth. As such, Otto performed the most elemental basics of his physical (pee) and obligatory (brush teeth) bathroom ablutions before taking his place at the table just as Paula finished transferring his bacon and eggs to Otto's blue plate - a plate from which Otto had eaten since his third birthday, because Paula said he was special. "Thanks, Mom."
Otto felt his eyes wanting to look over and check the sufficiency of Wink's food dish and water bowl contents, but his heart resisted the habit. "Would you like me to put Wink's things up on the shelf in the garage?"
"No, I'll do it after breakfast."
"Did you spend time with the Beebbs last night?"
Paula referred to Otto's best friend, Bobby Bartholomew Baginski, Wannaska's lone Jewish child, whose name lends itself to customized nicknames for any acquaintance who wishes to do so: Paula listens to the BBC, hence her approximation; Peter, ever the minimalist, calls him B; Gretchen expresses her disdain by calling him either Bobo or Boo Boo, depending on her pH. Otto calls Bobby B&BB, just B&B, or any other creative riff on the letter B, because they were fun to say and because that's what Bobby told Otto to call him.
"No, I'll see him today, though - with Coon Man - down by the bridge."
Otto now knew that his mother knew that he snuck out last night, and Otto heaved an inner sigh of relieve knowing that she was going to let it go. With each passing year Otto became more and more grateful for being more lightly mothered.
"I just sat in the treehouse hoping to avoid some of Gretchen's Saturday night drama."
"Thought so. Please leave me a note when you need to go out late like that, dear."
After breakfast, Otto walked back up to his bedroom and turned on his phone to check in with B&BB, scanning Snapchat, Instagram, and Facebook for any updates. That's when he saw it: the Facebook friend request from Izzi. Otto put his phone in his pocket, picked up Wink's dish and bowl on his way out the door, deposited yet another absence-reminder of Wink on the garage shelf, and walked to the Beito-McDonnell Memorial Bridge, taking in as much riverside as he could on the way.
Wannaska World is a community writing project, where story ideas or contributions left in the comment section or elsewhere on Wannaskan Almanac will be incorporated into ongoing installments.
Be better than yesterday, learn a new word today, and to stay out of trouble - at least until tomorrow.
*Because 5 is mean.
Otto awoke the next morning to the smell of fresh bacon and the sizzle of butter-fried eggs rising up the stairs to his bedroom from the kitchen. Paula Peppenhorst prepared every single Sunday breakfast since her wedding to Peter 23 years, 3 months, and 14 days ago - even when she began working for Mantoy Industries in the plastic plant on the swing shift while pregnant with Otto, still nursing Gretchen, and hobbled by a broken foot from a forklift incident; but more on that later. Preternaturally attentive and ambitiously compulsive, Paula - known as Pep - embraced the symbiotic twin Teutonic virtues of self-discipline and structure above all others. Mrs. Peppenhorst was on board with the notion of unconditional love, as long as everyone understood her conditions. "Eggs up in 2, Otto."
"How does she do that!?" Otto had only just opened his eyes to the new day, but his mother had not only timed his breakfast perfectly; she announced its near readiness the moment he awoke, sight unseen. Otto's family moved into the old family farm house years before Otto was born. Small but sprawling, the two-story, third-generation farm home featured furnishings acquired in terms of legacy, functionality, comfort, price, style, and color - in that order of priority. The kitchen sat in the physical and psychological center of the home, where all were welcome, and where Paula had the last word. In the center of the center sat Paula's green, wall-mount, rotary dial Southern Bell equipped with a tangled 25-foot receiver cord and receiver shoulder rest. Paula personally mounted it to the blank end of the "kitchen table" - two tall back-to-back old style kitchen wall cabinets topped with the homestead's original front door and a plate of tempered glass surrounded by set of National Office Furniture metal industrial barstools with backrests (salvaged from the '88 VFW fire). Pep had the reputation as a do-it-yourself kind of gal.
Paula posted two household rules on the fridge, which she applied to any sentient being who set foot in the house: 1. Be kind. 2. Tell the truth. As such, Otto performed the most elemental basics of his physical (pee) and obligatory (brush teeth) bathroom ablutions before taking his place at the table just as Paula finished transferring his bacon and eggs to Otto's blue plate - a plate from which Otto had eaten since his third birthday, because Paula said he was special. "Thanks, Mom."
Otto felt his eyes wanting to look over and check the sufficiency of Wink's food dish and water bowl contents, but his heart resisted the habit. "Would you like me to put Wink's things up on the shelf in the garage?"
"No, I'll do it after breakfast."
"Did you spend time with the Beebbs last night?"
Paula referred to Otto's best friend, Bobby Bartholomew Baginski, Wannaska's lone Jewish child, whose name lends itself to customized nicknames for any acquaintance who wishes to do so: Paula listens to the BBC, hence her approximation; Peter, ever the minimalist, calls him B; Gretchen expresses her disdain by calling him either Bobo or Boo Boo, depending on her pH. Otto calls Bobby B&BB, just B&B, or any other creative riff on the letter B, because they were fun to say and because that's what Bobby told Otto to call him.
"No, I'll see him today, though - with Coon Man - down by the bridge."
Otto now knew that his mother knew that he snuck out last night, and Otto heaved an inner sigh of relieve knowing that she was going to let it go. With each passing year Otto became more and more grateful for being more lightly mothered.
"I just sat in the treehouse hoping to avoid some of Gretchen's Saturday night drama."
"Thought so. Please leave me a note when you need to go out late like that, dear."
After breakfast, Otto walked back up to his bedroom and turned on his phone to check in with B&BB, scanning Snapchat, Instagram, and Facebook for any updates. That's when he saw it: the Facebook friend request from Izzi. Otto put his phone in his pocket, picked up Wink's dish and bowl on his way out the door, deposited yet another absence-reminder of Wink on the garage shelf, and walked to the Beito-McDonnell Memorial Bridge, taking in as much riverside as he could on the way.
Wannaska World is a community writing project, where story ideas or contributions left in the comment section or elsewhere on Wannaskan Almanac will be incorporated into ongoing installments.
Be better than yesterday, learn a new word today, and to stay out of trouble - at least until tomorrow.
*Because 5 is mean.
A wee synecdoche for ye: In a jug of poteen I wax lubricious. A posse's deputed to clathrate me in cordite and toss me into the pisculent stream. I derogate those bozos, but to stave off onchocerciasis, I weave quoit-like goggles from a nearby privet. Twenty miles downstream I find my casuistical cant is now an object of obliviscence.
ReplyDeleteIt's the birthday in 1977 of Matthew McDonnell.
Elvis died the following day.
I am inspired to write another contribution to Wannaska World! JP Savage
ReplyDeleteThe ol' Number 5... Otto enjoyed jokes and riddles every bit as much as the next guy, except he never saw himself as much of a joke teller. He envied real jokers, like Coon Man, in that they could tell one joke after another all day long, and as for riddles, he only liked the laugh aloud ones, that were hard because they were so simple.
ReplyDeleteOtto had his one joke that he could tell in front of his family and loved to pester Gretchen with it whenever she got too uppity. She couldn't explain it away no matter how she tried. Otto's wielded his secret weapon as Gretchen's krypton, sending her running angrily back to her bedroom and slamming her door.
"Hooyah!" he'd snicker.
Not that he didn't love his sister. He hoped to mature into that knowledge later, but for now, as a kid, he was going to use whatever devices there were at hand to his advantage, realizing big sisters always tried to have the upper hand in all things familial.
So this was Otto's joke: He say to Gretchen, or any suitable victim,
"How many digits at the end of your arms do you have?" and they'd likely say, 'ten'.
The he'd say, "I can prove you have eleven, wanna bet?"
Since gambling was forboden in the Peppenhorst household, Otto's 'bet' was just that he could prove it without a shred of doubt, and of course, everybody knew he could not, as probably 101% of humans the world over have ten digits, including their thumbs. This was a sure thing the victims knew. Otto would be humiliated.
"Sure, kid. Prove it," they'd all say.
Except Gretchen. She knew the answer but wouldn't accept it.
"Okay den," Otto would say, tryin' on a little phony scandahoovian accent,
"Hold yur 'ands out, like dis 'ere."
And he'd demonstrate with his own because not all his victims were the sharpest knives in the drawer, if you know what I'm sayin'.
Then, he'd start counting down their fingers and thumbs on one hand,
"Ten"
"Nine"
"Eight"
"Seven"
"Six"
And going to the other hand, Otto'd point and say,
"And five, makes eleven."
"Hooyah!"