Elbow and Computer Trouble

Last week the hard-working staff at Hungry Horse News had to dig out an “oldie but goodie” column from the files because I could not do a new one or rewrite an oldie due to a strange swelling in my right elbow. It even hurt to scratch my nose. A trip to the doctor got some advice and medicine, then my faithful Apple II computer developed serious problems, not solved by deadline. Those things happen when both the writer and his machine are no longer covered by warranty.

Luckily, was able to find one ancient disk the computer could somehow read and send over to the printer so the following is what I was able to produce.

The first run story is a true incident from the law logs in about 1995 sent to Reader’s Digest. The second was done about the same time:

Shades of Cat Ballou! On the evening of December 11th, Flathead County, Montana, deputies were summoned to a rural mountain cabin by a frightened young woman. She had been dozing in her long johns by the living room stove and awoke to see a mounted stranger staring at her through a window. He hollered out that he was looking for stray cattle and just wanted “to be friendly.”

The lady yelled back that she had a gun and wasn’t interested in being friendly. The stranger had then ridden away through the new fallen snow while the woman was calling the law. Quickly arriving deputies had no trouble tracking the wandering waddy through the timber to a neighboring residence, where he had talked two elderly women into brewing up some coffee.

The official arrest report on his “criminal trespass” charge noted that the lonesome cowboy would have had great difficulty rounding up any wild steers. Marks in the snow clearly showed that in the half mile ride between the two cabins, he had fallen off his horse five times. (The end.)

In the late 1950s my wife and her circle of neighborhood friends formed an informal social group wherein they could for a few hours, escape the hectic routines of raising babies. “The Sewing Club” met Tuesday evenings twice a month, and we husbands usually served as baby sitters.

Most of the girls are grandmothers now and all their kids are grown. There is not much sewing to do anymore, but “the club” goes on. 

I was home the last time they met at our place and thought I detected a more laid-back atmosphere. After the guests had left, I asked my wife if I was correct in this observation. “Certainly” she said. “That’s a direct result of our becoming an ‘Over the Pill’ gang.” (The end.)

Life is good. Hope the computer and I are both working better next week.

G. George Ostrom is a national award-winning columnist for Hungry Horse News. He lives in Kalispell.