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So every week our little paper in our little town–actually what we call the “big” town 20 minutes away, the county seat–”spotlights” a citizen they catch on the street. Sort of the “every man” piece in the weekly county newspaper.
This week, it was Faye.
They have a routine list of questions for the spotlight. The hapless newspaper man who fell into Faye’s clutches on the sidewalk of the town square had no idea what he was getting into, but he found out soon enough. He asked Faye if she wanted to be in the spotlight.
Faye’s commentary: I told him, do you see this sun shining on me? I am already in the spotlight.
Spotlight Questions:
Occupation: hardware clerk.
My commentary: Could Faye work anywhere else but in the little store in town? Of course not. And of course she works in the macho hardware section.
Hobby: drawing.
My commentary: Faye is an amazing, accomplished artist. I’ve seen several of her paintings hanging in Georgia’s house.
Favorite food: steak.
My commentary: Could we imagine any different?
Favorite TV show: The Golden Girls.
My commentary: I think she meant the alternate universe version. The Golden Girls Clear Brush.
Favorite author: Agatha Christie.
Me, to Faye: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?
Faye: What?
Me: WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY ME?
Faye: I’ve never read one of your books.
Me: THAT IS NOT THE POINT! You could have SAID me! I’m taking you out of my will!
Faye: You don’t have any money.
Me: THAT IS NOT THE POINT!
Person most admired: David Hedges.
My commentary: This is the editor of the newspaper. Faye has the dryest sense of humor in town.
Faye’s commentary: I told him there was no way they’d put this in the paper.
Pet peeve: When something she is expecting is not in the county paper.
My commentary: Smart mouth!!!!
Faye, posing in the back at the little store.
Faye: You’re going to put this picture on the internet, aren’t you?
Me: No, of course not.
Faye: I know you are.
Posted by Suzanne McMinn on January 26, 2008
I never thought Id move myself and my 2 kids over 6oo miles to live next door to my parents, build my own house, barns, pasture, put up 400 bales of hay a year,... - 
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-Kim
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:cool:
-Kim
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You are, how do I say this, WRONG.
A couple of years ago, a feral kitten arrived in our yard, soaked, cold, hungry, scared, did I mention soaked, after a Texas Norther blew through.
DH brought him in and wrapped him in a towel. Our family babied him (much to the other cats’ dismay), fed him, and rushed him to the vet the next day for treatment of what turned out to be a brown recluse spider bite.
He is the most loving cat a family can have. Knows when someone is feeling bad (emotionally or physically), and will rub up against them or lie down next to them and purr.
He spends his afternoons (weather permitting) outside, probably so when DH comes home from work this cat can tear out across the lawn (like a dog) and jump in his arms. To be carried in the house.
When DH is home, the cat feels all is right with the world.
We remind this cat he is a feral cat.
He reminds us he has a family.
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Faye sounds like a great gal!
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Hello, Faye!
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