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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
"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....
Make friends, ask questions, have fun!
Take Clover with you in 2010!
Pin the map!
Your recipes! (Contributed by forum members.)
I'm a paperback writer.
by Pete on November 20, 2009
by AsTheNight on November 20, 2009
by BuckeyeGirl on November 20, 2009
by Leahld22 on November 20, 2009
by Pete on November 20, 2009
November 2009
"First it's glowing, then it's snowing! A pause, then screaming squalls and williwaws. Bright but bitter, then a thaw. Yet again it's cold and storming: What ever happened to global warming?"
Friday, Nov 20
Fair
Currently: 39˚F
Feels Like: 39˚ F
Hi: N/A˚, Lo: 34˚
weather feed courtesy of weather.com - thanks!
- Amy on How (Not) to Start a Fire in a Wood Stove
"Cookies are good." Read my barnyard stories....
Entire Contents © Copyright 2004-2009 SuzanneMcMinn.com. Text and photographs may not be published, broadcast, redistributed or aggregated without express permission. Thank you.
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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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