Elizabeth Kelch

Living simply and sustainable, and writing about all of lifes adventures.

Some of my fiction and peotry
Ghosts With Stories To Tell
Not all people are bad or angry. Why do people think all ghosts are bad or angry? Why do people seem to assume so.
I get how people find the unknown scary but never quit empathized. The unknown is where we learn. Atoms, space travel and electricity were once unknown.
I imagine spirits have stories to tell? I think it would be fascinating to meet and chat with a ghost; to hear what they have to say.
It’d be kind bummer to be dead…But not if it’s as good as a lot of people think! Maybe ghosts are just people who weren’t able to tell all their tales before they died. And their just excited to share their stories.

Written Oct 2015
Herding cats

Shouting from the kitchen as I’m cleaning up the last of the breakfast dishes, “Okay people, it’s time to load ‘em up. There’s adventures to be had today, but we gotta get out of the house and on the road first.”
I grab the dish towel and dry my hands as I walk. I round the corner to the living room and Zoe is right in front of me. “Where are we going?” she demands.
Not taking the time to go back and put the towel away in the kitchen where it belongs, I drape it on one of the dining room chairs. I tell her, “Never you mind about that”, with mischievousness in my voice.  “Just get yourself collected and ready to go”. Grinning, I grab her shoulder’s,”Aren’t surprises fun” and I shake her right and left, trying to make her crazy. My 16 year old daughter rolls her eyes with her face absolutely neutral and bored she says, “Yea?” like she can’t be bothered to elaborate even a little.
Abruptly, I regain my wits and I remember the time and say, “we’ve gotta get moving if we’re gonna make it in time.”  She turns away to go get her jacket and purse saying, “Okay Mom, let’s do this.” with much less opposition than her 16-year-old attitude implies.
I stride off to the foyer thinking about where I put my purse? Did I put it in the hall closet or is it on the table? I find it on the back of the couch, check to make sure my phone is in it and put it on the floor by the front door.
Abruptly, I regain my wits and remember I want to pack up some snacks and water. Granola bars and apples will keep everybody from starving to death, and we’ll find a restaurant afterwards to get lunch. I stack 4 granola bars, 4 apples, and 4 bottles of water on the kitchen counter.
I stop and look in the hall mirror to check my hair. I poke at it and try to tame it a bit but give up “Oh, it’s just so unruly” I shake my head in resignation and move on.
Abruptly, I regain my wits and remember the dog needs to go in her kennel. I call out, “Sam, will you put the dog in the kennel, please”.  If we don’t put our crazy beast in her kennel, she’ll destroy the place; garbage everywhere, chewed shoes, I don’t even want to imagine all the horror.  It’s just one more thing that needs to be seen to when I’m trying to get this troop out of the house.
Did I lock the back door? “Zoe, will you check the back door for me?” I so often forget to lock that door.
Abruptly, I regain my wits and remember the tickets! Don’t forget the tickets! I scurry back to the kitchen where the family calendar hangs and unclip them from where they’ve been hanging since they arrived in the mail.
I turn and see Joe still sitting on the living room floor playing Legos, “Joe, let’s get moving! Why don’t you have your shoes on yet?” I ask rhetorically, Without waiting for an answer because I know there isn’t one, I walk away calling out, “Did everybody have their pre-journey bathroom visit? Remember to start every journey with an empty bladder”
Abruptly, I regain my wits and remember there’s laundry in the washer. I gotta get it moved to the dryer before we leave otherwise it will be smelly from being damp too long. I dash to the laundry room and move the clothes to the dryer. They’ll be dry by the time we get home, wrinkled, but dry.
Abruptly, I regain my wits and remember I need the small cooler from the garage. I rushed to the garage and stretch to reach it without letting it fall on my head. I mutter “I wish that wasn’t on the top shelf”.  Back in the kitchen I put the snacks I stacked on the counter earlier into the cooler and carry the cooler to the front door.
Joe finally has his shoes on and has joined Zoe by the door.  However, he’s tormenting his sister, running circles around her. “Joe, stop that! Where is your jacket? My tone changes from annoyed to I-understand-your-frustration as I wrap my arms around both of them “I love you. Now go get in the car.”
Abruptly, I regain my wits and I remember there’s one more kid to hunt down and get moving. “Sam, where are you.”
“You told me to put the dog in her kennel” he says as he comes around the corner.
“Yes I did”, I tell him in another understanding tone, “And you got her a cookie?” He nods.  Now, it’s his turn for a hug. “This is gonna be fun. Are you ready to go?” He nods again, then, a little uncertain about the adventure ahead, he turns and heads out the door.
I pause looking at him walking away empty-handed and looking down at the pile of things I stacked by the door to take with us. “Are you kidding?” Shaking my head in resignation, I pick up each of the items, one by one, till my hands are full.
I step around the corner of the house, into the driveway and Zoe and Joe are standing next to the car. Abruptly, I regain my wits and I remember the keys. Putting my armload of things on the driveway as gently as a beleaguered mom can, I dash back into the house. The dog is looking out of her kennel at me like I’m nuts. I grab the keys and run back out to the car. I push the unlock button as I’m pulling the front door shut behind me. When I come back into the driveway the kids have the doors open and they’re getting in.
“Joe, before you get in will you open the back for me”. He opens the tailgate, then goes and gets in his seat. Once again, I look at them sitting there, not helping with the stuff in the driveway that needs to be moved to the back of the car and shake my head in resignation. I reload my arms with the items in the driveway and put them in the back of the car.
I close the tailgate and finally sit down in the driver seat. I take a deep breath, put my hands on the steering wheel, turn to the kids and say “Now, where are we going?” This time they all rolled their eyes at me and groan. Laughing, I turn the key and the engine roars to life.  I back out of the driveway. At last, we’re off…and we’re leaving too.

Written Sept2015


PICNIC

When the moon is made of green cheese,
The Martians will come
And we'll all have a picnic in the woods

The Martians will bring sautéed soil and boiled noses.
We'll bring fried chicken and corn on the cob.
The sautéed soil will go nicely on the corn.

Written Jan 1992
Appearances

In Morocco, I met a man, a very nice and fun to be with man.  He said I made him laugh like his mother had when he was a boy.  We were both there doing the tourist thing; he, the wealthy, young, debonair traveler; I, the wide-eyed tourist on a budget.

We spent two weeks seeing all there was to see from Casablanca to Marrakech and everything in between.  We danced every night and saw sights every day.  He treated me wonderfully and asked only the pleasure of my company in return.

He enjoyed me as much as he seemed to because, with me, he could do be the boisterous, exuberant man he never could is in his staunch real world of financial doings and appearances to be upheld.  Although the thing that drew him to me was the very thing that kept him from spending his life with me.

When it was time for me to leave we drove to the airport in silence.  He turned to me and said, “I love you, but I can’t turn away from all my family’s taught me and given me.  I know I’ll regret it as I grow older, but I have to let you go.  I have to behave appropriately, my image is very important.  I am the heir to a company that’s needs to maintain an image.”

I quietly got on the plane and never looked back. I knew I’d regret not fighting for him.

Written Spring 1900 Revised Jan2017