Wednesday, August 10, 2011

sweetest scene from The Sweater Curse

Kris Bjarnson became a devoted father. No matter how hard he worked, he always found time for me. When Mother worked late, which was frequent, I curled up onto his lap, and he would regale me with stories. He always began the same way.

"In the land of here and now and right away, lived a little girl named Gwen, or was it Amy?
"Her hair was golden blonde or black. Does it matter?
"She was your age? Or was she older? Or a little younger? Oh, you know, it doesn't really matter.
"She lived a humdrum life, in a ho-hum way, but one day, one day..."

He then recounted one of my daily adventures. My dad was a magnificent storyteller. He a gift for taking the mundane and mking it magical. There in his lap, snuggled up close to his flannel shirt, I was rocked to sleep by his words. Soap and water couldn't hide his farmer's cologne -- a heady blend of sheep, hay, and soil.

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Next post: Tour the ArtCraft gallery

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