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Mrs. Higgle's Sign
Mrs. Higgle saw it shaped in a wrought iron gate
leading out of the cemetery that day and knew she must
keep it.
She pushed her straw hat back on her tight blue-gray
curls, sacrificing half a dozen fresh daises
she'd wedged in the gingham head band to a small pile
around her hot pink flip-flops. (can't go without at
least a BIT of color amongst all this black!)
Bending purposefully to her leftover-scrap quilted
handbag, she began to sift through the modge-podge
inside;
One slightly used hanky (oh, those allergies)
spearmint hard candies (save those for later) pink
mini umbrella (might be rain) empty appointment book
(just in case) sugar N spice lipstick, (a few guilty
pleasures are alloted us all)... Finally she found a
red pen (a much chewed left-over from the days she'd
had Mr. Higgle as well as a class full of bright-faced
third graders) and wrote it down.
Oh Lordy, Lordy! If that isn't elegant, I don't know
what is!
The red ink had long gone pink before she got to
put it to good use. Then one fine day, Ms Higgle's
uncle Melbert Joe fell over and died, leaving her
$5000.00 and a bare strip of land.
Mrs. Higgle bought herself a lived-in trailer,
scrubbed it clean, then plunked it smack dab in the
middle of her own little piece of earth.
She was tempted to use her crimson-writ treasure then
and there, but she knew that it wouldn't fit just yet.
"Not until I pay the nursury a visit, anyway." she
clucked.
Mrs. Higgle found a nice young man who would dig holes
and plant for $15.00 and fresh-squeezed lemonade. By
the end of the week, her plot was dotted nicely with
oak saplings cozy in the ground.
"Now!" she said.
The curly q's and fancy letters gave her hands (that
trembled now and then with age when they didn't decide
to stiffen up on her) a challenge, but she held firm.
Now and then she stood back to critique her work and
change a line here, a swirl there.
Two and a half hours later, smelling of paint,
wood-shavings and soaked in sweat, she finally
finished.
"Not quite the same." she said, closing one eye " But
I suppose nothing could be. It IS rather nice though."
Pleased and tired, she took a nap while it dried. She
woke with that all-too familiar stiffness in her
joints, but paid it no heed.
She rushed outside and placed her creation centered
between two well-placed baby oaks.
Proud and puffed up as a peacock, she walked back into
the road to give the sign a good look.
It was so beautiful! There were tears in her eyes as
she went inside to make a glass of ice tea.
"Now what do you think about that, Herbert?" she asked
looking up and through the ceiling. "Now we both live
in Shady Acres!"
