Hi, Gang

I pray your weekend went well. Ginny and I had a day

just for us yesterday. We took a walk, spent time togther,

and just enjoyed each other.

    Please read below today's story. You are all members here,
   
because you read my stories on an inspirational site. Below,

I'm posting a list of links where my stories have appeared.

If you enjoy stories and quotes that make you think and touch

your heart, you will want to check these out.

    Spring is finally showing its warmth here. Today's
   
story is an old one I reworked. I hope you enjoy it.

    Today is April Fools day. Tonight or tomorrow, I'm
   
going to write you a story about a joke that was played

on me a few years ago.

    If anyone is interested in greeting cards, Ginny

belongs to a group of artists. They've teamed together

to market their products. Check them out at:

http://www.etsygreetings.blogspot.com

    Ginny's cards and other crafts are at:

http://www.ginginsgoodies.etsy.com

    Now for today's story.

                   Spring - Sneakers and Paint

    The snow is gone. Grass grows on the sunny side of our house.
   
Birds flutter and sing in the bush next to the half-full feeder. The

warm sun brings memories: the smell of fresh paint, the feel of new

sneakers, longer days, singing birds, and the smell of spring -

green grass.
   
            *****************************

    I held my school books under my arm, climbed the front steps
   
to our house, and yelled out, "Mum!" The door slammed shut behind

me. "Mum, I'm home." I stopped. The smell of fresh paint filled

our house. Mum's handmade curtains moved gently in the breeze

flowing through the open windows.

    I knew it was spring. It was the same every year. On the first
   
warm day, Mum opened the windows and let the fresh air in. She'd

pop the top off a can of paint and put a new coat on the walls of

a room or two or even three.

    Spring was the time to change footwear. In Nova Scotia, we
   
had snow on the ground almost continuously from late December

until late March. Heavy winter boots slowed our play. They were

lead weights around our ankles.

    In late April or early May, when the ground finally soaked
   
up the last of the water from the melting snow, Mum took my

brothers and I to "The City" to be fitted with a new pair of

black-and-white "Dash" sneakers. Over the ankle, sewn into the

black fabric, just above the white soles, was a rubber circle

with their trademark imprinted on it. After a month or two,

my small hands ripped it off, leaving a dark circle in the

faded material around it.

            *****************************

    The door banged behind us. We rushed out. "Don't slam
   
the door!" Dad yelled. We ran threw the brown grass. Wind

rushed past our uncovered ears. The weight of our boots gone,

we floated on air and leaped liked kangaroos. Spring! Thoughts

of summer - freedom - filled our minds.

           
            *****************************

    It was a beautiful day. The sun melted the remaining snow.
   
Puddles formed in the low spots of our yard. The sound of

singing birds came through the open window. I opened a can

of paint. Memories of my youth flashed before my eyes. Spring

will always be the smell of fresh paint. Free from the weight

of my heavy boots, I want to run and feel the wind rushing

passed my ears.

Michael T. Smith

    If you enjoy a story, feel free to pass it on to your friends.
   
My only request is that you include the link for your friends to

join our family.

To join our family, go to:

http://subs. zinester.com/ 86758/

REMOVE THE SPACES TO GET TO THE SITE. SPAM BLOCKERS ARE

HURTING EZINES. DON'T LET THEM PREVENT YOU FROM READING

GREAT STORIES.

As promised, here is a list of great inspirational sites.

I subscribe to all of them. You will love these sites.

By my good friend Keith in Australia:
http://www.agiftofinspiration.com.au/

My friend Phil runs http://www.peoplestuff.com.au/
Phil's awesome and brutally honest

Zev, yes another friend, runs http://empoweringmessages.com/stories/

Heart Catchers is a wonderful site.  www.DianeDeanWhite.com

www.Heartwarmers.com and www.petwarmers.com are two

wonderful story sites.

http://hodu.com/

http://www.mydailyinsights.com/

www.ripplemaker.com

http://www.sermonillustrator.org

http://www.SkyWriting.Net

Here's a newly discovered one I like:

http://www.archive.zinester.com/9516

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/WarmFuzzyStories/

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/WithInSight/

That's all I can think of right now. If I come up with

more, I'll add them.

Enjoy!!!

I love your comments, Send them to msmith4@nj.rr.com.

I'll include some in every post.

    Here are some comments from last week:

Hi Mike,
I couldn't stifle the laughter as I read your description

of being atop the roof in that heavy rain storm...your

raincoat flapping over your head!   Love the way you tell

a story and infuse it with just the right dose of humor! 

You've had some dangerous, frightening moments with that

ladder, but I'm glad you survived to tell about them.

Be careful,

Sandi in FL.

   Hello, my wonderful family of readers. I'm so sorry
  
for not posting for a week. Work is keeping me busy. I

leave at 7 AM and am lucky to get home before 8 at night.

It's taking its toll on me.

    Tonight I have part one of, "Beware the Neighbor."
   
It's a fun one. Part Two will have a message - sort of.

You'll have to wait till the weekend to read the end.

    I Know! I'm a tease.

    If anyone is interested in greeting cards, Ginny

belongs to a group of artists. They've teamed together

to market their products. Check them out at:

http://www.etsygreetings.blogspot.com

    Ginny's cards and other crafts are at:

http://www.ginginsgoodies.etsy.com

    Be sure to check out my collection of inspirational
   
sites at the end. There's something for everyone.

    Now for today's story.

                    Beware the Neighbor

    A moving truck rumbled down the dirt driveway that divided
   
my property and led to my new neighbor's house. The old homestead

had been empty for a year, ever since the former owner passed

away. At the time, I was glad to see it occupied again.

    I sat on my deck. Smoke from my barbeque drifted into the
   
air. Steaks sizzled on the grill. I put my feet on an adjacent

chair, picked up my book, draped my bookmark over my thigh, and

quietly read. It was another peaceful spring evening in Nova Scotia.

    Out of the corner of my vision, I sensed movement - a large
   
white cat. I watched it approach my flowerbed, sniff at the newly

turned soil, and begin to dig. "Hey!" I jumped from my chair, "Get

out of there!" I said other words I'm ashamed to repeat.

    The cat was fast - a white blur fleeing through the trees.
   
It headed in the direction of my new neighbor's house.

    Every night I sat on my deck, and every night the cat
   
appeared. As before, I chased it away

    One evening, I sat on my deck and heard, "Meow!" The
   
white cat stood a few feet from me. He'd come around the house

from the other direction. His blue eyes showed no fear. He

stood and looked at me. I admired his courage. I put my hand

down, "Here, Kitty." The cat rushed to my hand and rubbed its

head against it. A few minutes later, he purred softly in my lap.

    A few nights later, I saw my neighbor in his yard. I
   
walked up the hill and introduced myself. His name was John.

As we talked the white cat appeared. "John, is that your cat?"

    "That's Matey. I got him a few months ago.  I notice he
   
goes down the hill to your house almost every evening. I hope

he isn't bothering you."

    "Not at all, John, in fact, he's become my friend." John
   
and I became friends too.

    John kept busy making improvements to the property. It
   
used to be a farm. The old house sat in the middle of what

was once the pasture. One side bordered the back end of my

property, which had a stand of thirty-to-fifty foot spruce

and fur trees. Between the trees and John's house was a field

of tall grass. If you looked closely, you could see what was

left of the rows from the original garden. Strands of thick

wire, obviously old fencing to keep the vegetables safe from

roaming cattle, could be seen through the thick grass.

    John decided to turn the pasture into a lawn. For weeks,
   
he pushed his mower over the humps. I sat on my deck and

winced every time the blade ground against a hidden rock or

rattled over the old wire fencing.

    I sat on my deck, tried to read, and attempted to ignore
   
the noise. The mower came to a stop. The quiet disturbed me.

I placed my bookmark between the pages of my book and strolled

up the hill to survey the damage. The old meadow looked like

the head of a child who'd decided to cut their own hair.

Patches of tall grass stood in random order over the field.

The blade of John's mower had sliced the tops off the high

spots and exposed the brown earth. White scars marked the

tops of uncovered rocks.

    John fiddled with his mower by the side of the house.
   
"Looks good, John." I lied.

    "Thanks!" He looked up from the mower. "I don't know
   
what's wrong with this thing." He turned it on its side.

"Look at that blade."

    I knelt down and ran a finger over the jagged cutting
   
edge. It was dull, dented, and basically useless. "It doesn't

look too good, John." I said with faked concern.

    "This is the third blade I've put on this thing. Shouldn't
   
they last longer than that?"

    "They don't make things like they used to." I replied,
   
trying not to laugh.

            *********************************

    Spring was in the air. It was time to plant my vegetable
   
garden. On my way to the shed for my rake and shovel, I

noticed John burning the dry grass around his house. It

didn't concern me. A lot of people in the area did that

to encourage new growth.

    I pushed my shovel into the soft ground, lifted it,
   
and turned the soil over. A big shiny worm wiggled on the

surface. Georgia stepped onto the deck. "Mike, there's a fire

in the back field."

    I looked up. "It's OK, Hun. It's just John. He's burning
   
the grass around his house."

    "Are you sure?"

    "Yeah, it's OK." I assured her. She went back into
   
the house.

    Twenty minutes later, she appeared on the deck again.
   
"Michael, you better check it out. The field is on fire."

    I wanted to finish tilling the garden. "Georgia, it's
   
just John burning the grass." I snapped.

    "I think you better check it out." She was determined
   
not to let me finish my work.

    "Fine!" I growled and threw my shovel to the ground.
   
"If it makes you feel better, I'll check it out." I stomped

off.

    Clouds of smoke greeted me as I turned the corner of
   
our house. Flames raced across the dry grass in the meadow

between John's house and the tall trees on my property.

    I ran to the road that led to John's house. The field
   
was burnt black. Orange flames crackled at the base of the

tall trees. Their branches, heavy with spring growth, hung

low to the ground, inches from the flickering flames. "Oh,

my!" I said out loud. I really said something else, but I'm

ashamed to say what it was. I dashed to the shed, and grabbed

my snow shovel.

    At the base of the trees, I beat the shovel on the
   
burning grass. Inch-by-inch, I worked the fire-line, until

the last of the fire threatening my property was out.

Gasping for breath, I wiped a sooty hand - burnt free of

hairs - over my sweaty forehead.

    To my right, a wisp of smoke caught my eye. Next to
   
my shed, a tangle of dried raspberry bushes and grass

burst into flame. I rushed to it. Flames leapt in my face.

My eyebrows and whiskers disappeared with a rancid

smell - no need to shave that day.

    I leaned on my shovel, panting heavily. "Michael!"
   
Georgia yelled from the kitchen window. "Should I call

the fire department?"

    "No! I think we have it under control."

    "Are you sure?"

    "I'm sure! You may need to paint my eyebrows on for
   
a few weeks, but I think we got it." I paused and looked

up the hill. John was working on the remaining flames.

"I'm going to help John. He's putting out the fire in the

back of the field. I'll let you know if we need help."

    I ran through the black grass, tripped over a mower-
   
shredded piece of fence wire, fell into the ash, jumped up,

and wiped my forehead. A black trickle of sooty sweat ran

down my cheek.

    John held a rake in his hand. He pulled at the burning
   
grass - lifting it up - trying to pull the fire from

fresh fuel. Each clump of grass he lifted burst into flame. 

"John!" I screamed. "What are you doing?" I said other words

I'm ashamed to repeat.

    Once again, I beat the flames down with my snow shovel.
   
"John!" I panted. "You can't put out a fire like that! You're

stirring the grass up and giving it fuel! You need to beat

it down with a shovel or hose it with water! What the..." Adrenalin made

me say words I shouldn't have.

    "I'm sorry, Mike. "John hung his head. "The wind picked
   
up and the fire got away from me."

    I softened." It's OK, John. I'm glad we got it out.

We could have lost all our homes. It's done."

    The words barely left my mouth, when I heard the
   
crackle of flames. I turned and saw smoke rising from

the base of the trees on the other side of John's house.

"Oh..." I said another shameful word. Before attacking it,

I ran toward my house and screamed, "Georgia, Call the

fire department!"

    "I already did!" She yelled out the window.

     I rushed to the base of the tall trees. The smoldering
    
grass burst into flame just as I reached it. Over the sound

of my shovel pounding the flames back, the wail of approaching

sirens could be heard. Smoke burned my throat and watered my

eyes. The flames reached the base of a twenty-foot tree,

shot up its side, and forced me to retreat.

    TO BE CONTINUED...

    If you enjoy a story, feel free to pass it on to your friends.
   
My only request is that you include the link for your friends to

join our family.

To join our family, go to:

http://subs. zinester.com/ 86758/

REMOVE THE SPACES TO GET TO THE SITE. SPAM BLOCKERS ARE

HURTING EZINES. DON'T LET THEM PREVENT YOU FROM READING

GREAT STORIES.

    As promised, here is a list of great inspirational sites.

I subscribe to all of them. You will love these sites.

Run by my friend Carol, Storytime Tapestry at:

http://archives.zinester.com/98907/

By my good friend Keith in Australia:
http://www.agiftofinspiration.com.au/

My friend Phil runs http://www.peoplestuff.com.au/
Phil's awesome and brutally honest

Zev, yes another friend, runs http://empoweringmessages.com/stories/

Heart Catchers is a wonderful site.  www.DianeDeanWhite.com

www.Heartwarmers.com and www.petwarmers.com are two

wonderful story sites.

http://hodu.com/

http://www.mydailyinsights.com/

www.ripplemaker.com

http://www.sermonillustrator.org

http://www.SkyWriting.Net

Here's a newly discovered one I like:

http://www.archive.zinester.com/9516

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/WarmFuzzyStories/

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/WithInSight/

That's all I can think of right now. If I come up with

more, I'll add them.

Enjoy!!!

I love your comments, Send them to msmith4@nj.rr.com.

I'll include some in every post.

    Here are some comments from last week:

Great work Mike !!!

(thanks for the mention)

Keep waving mate - I kin see ya!

Love from Oz

Philstar

*****************

Well, that was it from last week. I guess I didn't touch

that many hearts last week.

Mike

Keep on Waving.