The day was fine and the wizard amble across the meadows trying to erase the uneasy feeling that had gripped him during breakfast. He couldn’t quite figure out where it came from. He rose as usual and joined his lovely wife for breakfast. In retrospect she didn’t appear quite as chipper as usual, her demeanor was a little quieter and she moved a little slower. The meal was oatmeal and toast which he usually relished but today the oatmeal was a little lumpy and he innocently remarked that it wasn’t as good as usual. Then he went out to contemplate the list of things he wished to accomplish. His wife stood at the window and watched him walk away.

Soon the wizard had reached the corn field and started to travel through. The blue sky darkened and rain began to fall relentlessly. In moments he was drenched and miserable, the sky turned black and the clouds sent tongues of lightening at him, yes, really at him. There was no other explanation for the way it whipped around his head, and then the hail started pelting him. Large hail the size of his fist followed him through the field. Grabbing magic from the large store in the earth he urged the corn on the right to lean left and the corn on the left to lean right. The cornstalks fought him with their own magic but he managed to coax it into forming a shelter over him. The hail still hit with such force that it penetrated the covering that he had created. As he squatted trying to avoid the missiles, he wished that he had brought his wizard cape to drape over the corn stalks. No sooner did he think of his cape than a strange black bird like item came flying toward the makeshift shelter, draped itself over the cornstalks and hardened its self into a impenetrable roof. Squatting down in his newly dry cave he did some serious thinking. His mind went back to the night before his wedding more than ten years before. Momma had taken him aside and had given him instructions on dealing with his new wife. “Learn to read her body language and phrase your speech to fit her mood,” she had advised. Poppa too had advice for the new husband to be. “Think twice, speak once, and never criticize without a compliment to follow and your life will be pleasant,” Poppa had said.

When the wizard had started his travel through the cornfield his wife was at home doing all the things she felt she had to complete before she could let herself lay down and rest her aching body. Her face wearing a frown mixed with pain, she washed the breakfast dishes and wrung the cloth dry it, sending water cascading into the sink. She pounded the metal utensil she had used against a stone to remove the lumps of oatmeal sending sparks flying in the wind. Next she chipped the ice that had built up in the freezer and threw it into the bucket to toss out side. When she had finished, she clenched her fist and her jaw and dragged herself into the bedroom to rest.

The moral to the story is: If you are going to marry a weather witch you had better take your parents advice to heart.

Written by:  hoopanaholler