Watched the finals from the sidelines yesterday. Both of us :((.
Had a hot tub then after dinner went to a small theatre in Peoria and watched "Burning in the Night" It was quite good = about a railroad hobo.
As this is Friday I just got back from picking up the doughnuts for doughnut day. Started off a couple weeks ago with 1 dozen, today I bought 3 dozen so I guess they are liking it!

Here's the first part of one of my attempts at Indian legends.

A WINTER’S TAIL

 

P

ond Water awoke as the grey of dawn pushed the last of night shadows from the forest land beside the village. He lay in his bed of deer skins for a few moments then quietly rose pulled on his moccasins and vest then slipped out through the doorway and stood looking around the small cluster of log and cedar bark buildings. He noticed that the cougar hide that served as a door had caught on a knot when he came outside. He quickly unhooked the hide and let it swing back to cover the entrance keeping the coolness of the morning from disturbing his still sleeping sister and parents.

  He didn’t know what had awakened him so early. He usually slept until the smell of cooking food and the morning clatter and talking of the elder tribe members pulled him from his bed. But today something within his body and head had called him and now he stood next to the fire pit wondering what was calling him.

  As he stood there something cold lit on his nose then another something on his ear, he suddenly smiled as a white flake floated earthward past his face, ‘snow flakes, yes it’s snow’ he thought. Suddenly he turned and started walking quickly away from the fire pit and past his parents log shack. He felt something drawing him, directing his steps; he didn’t know for sure what was compelling him but he had learned in his twelve summers that sometimes the Great Spirit called and when it did you should heed that call.

  In seconds he entered the forest and followed along a barely visible trail, in a short time another trail joined the first then a third and a fourth. He knew these were the trails made by the deer, bears, foxes and other animals and the now obvious trail would lead to the small lake where they all went for water.

   He started to trot, an urgency building within him, perhaps fifteen minutes passed and he came to the pebbled shore of the lake he knew so well. It was here in the summer that he and his friends would swim and frolic in its warm water and catch trout in the two streams that flowed into and out of the lake.

  At the lake’s edge he paused for only a moment then turned to his right and made his way through the willows and alders that drank the lake’s water and offered shelter and small bugs for the fish in return.

  He came to the stream that fed the lake its water then followed along up the stream. Suddenly he stopped abruptly, his eyes opened wide in surprise. The stream had a dam across it, a large dam made of sticks, small logs, leaves, mud and grass! He could see that the dam curved on either side and he remembered that the stream came down a shallow draw with poplar and birch growing abundantly along the lower slopes. He moved along following the edge of the dam and after a short distance spied a large mound similar in construction to the dam. He noticed that the bigger logs that were part of the dam were pointed on both ends and most of the bark was missing. ‘Odd” he thought, ‘I wonder who has done this?’

  He decided he would stop and study the structures and maybe figure out why someone would go to all this work when there was a very useable lake just a short distance away.

Pond Water sat down and in a little while he saw a small log drifting towards the mound, then he thought, ‘that’s drifting too fast cause there shouldn’t be much current with the dam being there.’ As the thought occurred he saw that a slick head of some kind of animal appeared to be pushing the log. He watched in amazement as another head popped up from beside the mound, the two heads came together then the log was grabbed by two sets of furry hands and was dragged down below the surface of the water.  Moments later one head popped back up and immediately started moving back to where the log had been floated from.

  Pond Water quietly rose and carefully followed.