Post
by Murfreesboro » Sat Sep 09, 2023 10:11 am
I've eaten only the classic Smores, but I have seen suggestions for other combos, including Reeses cups. I'm sure it's all good.
Btw, I asked my husband about his story last night, and he said he has it written up on his computer, so I'm waiting for him to get me his copy. I mean, it's not copyrighted. Local newspapers have written it up. But my husband has a way of telling it that enthralls his students.
I used to love telling the story of The Girl in the Lavender Dress. She was a beautiful but poor girl who selected a lavender party dress from a barrel of charity donations. After that she wore it most of the time. One autumn evening, a young man from a local college was driving along the road, and he saw this lovely girl in a lavender dress standing by the side of the road, hoping for a ride.
Of course he slowed to offer her a ride, and they chatted. She told him her name was Lavender, and she wanted a ride to a dance in the next town. He obliged, and they danced together all evening. She was a beautiful dancer and as light as a feather on her feet. By the time the evening was over, the young man was quite smitten with her.
After the dance, he drove her home, and importuned her for a second date, but she was non-committal. When he saw her shabby home, scarcely more than a shack in the woods, he believed she was ashamed of her upbringing, so he didn't push. But he couldn't forget her.
About a month later, he was driving in the area again, and he impulsively decided to find the girl's backwoods home. It took a little time, but he located it and knocked on the door. An elderly woman answered. When he asked for Lavender, she looked at him suspiciously. As he told his story of their meeting and their date at the dance, she became incredulous. She said she'd had a daughter, twenty years ago, who looked like the girl he described, and who liked to call herself Lavender. Her real name was Susan. But she had been killed in a traffic accident as she walked along the side of the road.
Now it was the young man's turn to be incredulous. He had seen, spoken and danced with this girl only last month. So the elderly woman walked him to the nearby family graveyard. She showed him Susan's grave, dated from twenty years ago. And there, on the modest gravestone, neatly folded, was the lavender dress.