A Little Red Riding Pants Thanksgiving

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Little Red has agreed to a radio appearance!

 

Fun for the whole family! Tune in to KSQM Community Radio to hear LITTLE RED RIDING PANTS’ NARROW ESCAPE, written and narrated by Eva Stanfield. Two airings: 9AM and 5PM. For bonus laughs at the end of the story, the 5 PM airing will include Little Red’s Handy Vocab List! Total running time 40 minutes with two breaks for station identification.

Go, Little Red, go!

Swain’s General Store

It’s not that the Olympic Peninsula doesn’t have much to offer a visitor. It does, but I am compelled to ask, have you ever visited the real Port Angeles? Have you experienced the intricacies and possibilities of an iconic place of business with its own internal landscape as vast and varied as the space it inhabits: have you been to a place called Swain’s?

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Swain’s General Store “has everything.”

Sure, on the Olympic Peninsula, pristine lakes drop exclamation points beneath tips of craggy crevasses and lap at ragged edges of evergreen bowls in colors too exquisite to name;  just one of their colors impossible to label, all colors unthinkable.  It’s true, rivers the color of cats’ eyes furtively search their banks for silt to shoplift from beneath arthritic roots of black evergreens and umber feet of Madrona trunks clawing and scraping glacial melt that rushes  by from snow-capped peaks, strutting joy down, down turbulent avenues to the depths of the Salish Sea. This piece of land, this Peninsula, nearly an island hanging by threads of ragged inlets like the sleeve ripped from the body of an entire continent, promises astonishment, joy, and unsurpassed beauty, yes. But have you gone to Swain’s and checked out the jutting fishing pole trees and acres of outdoor clothing? Have you seen all the mountainous flavors of Idaho SPUD candy bars, Aplets and Cotlets, and Almond Roca there, or observed rivers of nuts and bolts, galvanized thirty gallon trash can-invaluable for monkey capture-rushing down the main aisle to cash registers, flowing into pickups waiting like handsome steeds in a rain-soaked parking lot?

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Olympic Mountains

When I was a kid, I grew up in Port Angeles, the largest city on the Olympic Peninsula, set like a gemstone amid the stunning backdrop of the Olympic Mountains . We lived in a Victorian, five bedroom house right across the alley from Swain’s General Store, on Second Street. We frequented Swain’s every time we had a need, especially when we planned to hold one of our famous yard sales beneath the maple tree, not that we kids were much competition for Swain’s. My brother, Jack, perhaps the most successful businessman of us four kids, paid Little Susie a penny for every paying customer she could find in the neighborhood and bring to the sale. We ran to Swain’s for tag board and markers so we could advertise effectively. Swain’s had everything, after all, from tag board to shoes. Don’t forget the popcorn-ten cents then, twenty-five cents now.

With paper route money I bought my first horse bridle and gleaming saddle in the equestrian aisle, across from sporting goods, where I also bought fishing tackle and a license too, right before I went fishing at Peabody Creek. I even got screws for Dad when he sent me to Swain’s on an errand to the hardware department, deodorant for myself when I began the perspiration of adolescence (Chapter Three of my book Second Street), and slippers for Mom at Christmas. Swain’s existed as our sole go-to place outside of the Tradewell Grocery Store and the garden in the back yard.

It was from Swain’s I stole my first and last package of headbands the colors of a rainbow. I always was a sucker for color; I admit, the beauty of those headbands proved irresistible.  Across the alley I, thief, sprinted, and I hid them in the branches of the pear tree in our side yard, where Mom wouldn’t find them and I could return to get them later. But my experience with Swain’s was about to teach me crime did not pay.

I was wrong about Mom. As a perfectly balanced counterpoint to Swain’s motto, “Swain’s has everything”, it could safely be surmised that “Mom saw everything.” I swear she had eyes in the back of her head, because she saw me hide the headbands. Big mistake on my part, an underestimation the size of a gaping hole in the black earth of my thieving sole. After the bitter sting of a pear switch across my back side, she marched me across the alley to apologize to the lady behind the counter at Swain’s. Mom made me give the headbands back.

When we grew old enough to work, three of us four kids got jobs at Swain’s. I began at the age of fourteen as a Christmas bagger, graduating into a cashier position when I grew old enough. I worked for a total of seven years at Swain’s during Christmas and summer breaks and learned a lot of important lessons like:

  1. The customer is always right
  2. Be polite, no matter how bad you feel.
  3. Start work on time.
  4. Hardware is everyone’s friend.

Swain’s was, still is, a great place to work. Thanks goodness they forgave the headband incident of childhood and gave me a job.

To be continued….

 

Squeeko

The Rhesus monkey, Macaca Mulatta, inhabits India, northern China and Southeast Asia, as well as parts of Florida (since its introduction there in the early Twentieth Century). It also migrated to parts north, along the west coast of the United States. Recent history reveals the rosebud-faced primate was reportedly seen roaming as far north as Second Street Corridor in the city of Port Angeles, Washington in the Sixties and Seventies. Details of this adaptive creature have been documented in a yet-to-be-published work entitled SECOND STREET. The book is about Second Street, a place near First Street.

In addition to lots of interesting  and questionable facts, the author of SECOND STREET claims the existence of four additional monkeys, supposedly descended from the same familial line and raised on Second Street.

Since Second Street is near First Street, and in the vicinity of Swain’s General Store, it is worth considering whether or not the monkeys shopped at Swain’s General Store. Local wisdom says they may not have actually shopped there, though there was much speculation about where the package of headbands and five Idaho Spud Bars came from.  In addition and furthermore, it doubtful the monkeys were seen at Swain’s at all. The store’s motto, “Swain’s Has Everything” proved untrue for primates: they had no bananas.

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Unfortunately, Squeeko was fatter than the Rhesus shown above, due to his excessive buckwheat pancake consumption..

. The book SECOND STREET contains mostly factual information.

It should also be noted the monkey’s diet includes insects, fruit, vegetables, mice, rats and, when seasonally available, very young children.