N is for Nancy Nymph

I have joined the group  "Blogging from A to Z" .  This is a  a month long challenge to write a short story everyday and each day corresponding to the letter of the alphabet.  I have linked up the site - simply click on the name so that you might read any sort of short story from the huge line-up available.  The stories are supposed to be short so that many can be read, quickly.  Simply a titillation of talent.  Happy reading, and thank you for joining me.  My sister-in-law is writing under "Vicki's Place" currently her placement is #1259.  If you are catching this on my Facebook or as an e-mail follower my number is currently #1324.  (people drop out and the numbers contract) 

N is for Nancy Nymph

Riding on the back of the hay wagon, we delighted in the warm autumn weather.  As luck would have it, with an unusually late spring Mother Nature also graced us with an unusually late fall.  This isn't always the case, but this year we had a lovely warm season.  This tepid weather has been the boon to every “outdoor” establishment, from sidewalk bistros to golf courses.  Everyone was staying outside as much as they could, to soak it up for the inevitable overly harsh winter ahead. 

I could hear buzzing in my right ear.  My right ear is normally a little tone deaf.  Too many wind whipped days outside without head covering.  The buzzing was insistent.  I thought I saw an apple nymph. I asked my husband if he could hear any buzzing, shaking his head he knitted his browns together an peered into my face.  “I think we should go back inside and get you some cider.”  His concern ran across his face.  I have been experiencing fainting spells of late.  They have frightened both of us.  

Sitting at the picnic table, waiting for my cider to be delivered by my caring husband, I thought of Nancy.  I could see her donned in her pink sweat-shirt with a pink plastic wig-let on her head holding one of the containers of red jello shots.  I can hear her laugh. 

Nancy could be obstinate and often, in her language, sounded like a bigot.  But when it came to the employees, Nancy was the one to step up.  After two months of working seven days a week fourteen hours a day, it was Nancy who went to the individual board members requesting a weekend off for her hourly employees.  She cited their need to remember why they work so hard, and she won.  She won many small victories for the hourly.  In the small shop she worked in, upper management went home whenever they wanted.  Her hourly people did not have that luxury.  She fought for those people to have extra breaks for the additional hours worked.  She fought for better lighting.  She fought for extended training. 

Sipping her beer, she would turn to me and say, “I can’t help it if I’m way smarter than any of them.”  Not once did I think she was trying to be funny.  She had chutzpah and there were many who didn't care for someone to question a decision. 

I've always thought that was why she was relegated to the lower level.  Put in charge of the “sanding and rework department.”  Shoved down in the dungeon with no daylight, she faltered.  No daylight, constricted environment where she breathed in the sanded paint and plastics, on top of smoking, she contracted lung cancer. 

Now I know, this nasty nymph buzzing in my ear is my smart aleck friend reminding me to be as audacious as I possibly can.  My purple flurp friend reminding me not to let them diminish my dazzle!  Thanks Nanc.  I hear ya!

leigh