Library Blunder

 I was going through my writing files on my computer and stumbled upon a story I haven’t thought about in a long time. I haven’t posted anything in too long, so why not something amusing?

I’m part of a writers group, even though, since I moved away, I’m no longer able to meet with them once a month. These days, due to COVID we share and critique each other’s pieces via email. That works well, too, and I am able to take part. In any case, we sometimes do fun writing exercises. One day one of the members brought a list of titles; we were to choose one and write a story for it. I chose ‘When Pigs Fly’ and penned the following true story for it, which still makes me smile –even more so today than when it happened.

When Pigs Fly

I wanted to run as fast as my legs could carry me, away, far, far away from this embarrassing moment. As I’d done a hundred times before, I stood in line at the library waiting for someone to help me. Finally the friendly librarian greeted me with, “How may I help you?” I told her I’m here to pick up a book I had on reserve.

“What’s the title?” she asked.

I’m not sure what was going on in my brain while I waited. Perhaps I was thinking of feeding pigs, wondering if I could find joy with such a stinky job. Some people seem to like it. No, I couldn’t be happy with work that comes with a nose-burning stench. Or maybe I was thinking about some real live pig man. In any case, my answer to the librarian’s question was: “The Pigman.”

“The Pigman?” the librarian asked with a funny look. By now my blunder had caused my eyes to go wide, my cheeks suddenly had too much rouge and I wanted to melt into the floor. This was not the book I had on reserve, I’ve never even thought about reading it and don't really know what it's about. I have no idea how that title even came to mind, or how I couldn’t stop it before saying it out loud. I laughed, as much to hide my embarrassment as how hilarious it was. I mumbled the title that couldn’t beat The Pigman out of my mouth before, and sheepishly tucked my book under my arm and left.

In hind sight, I wonder why I was so embarrassed. It wouldn’t be so strange for me to sign out that book. It’s a grade seven novel after all, and I did work at a school at the time. I’m pretty sure, though, I wasn’t daydreaming about some handsome pig man. Or was I?

 

Today, quite a few years later, I’m married to someone who used to manage a pig operation. 

Sometimes pigs fly. 

Light-Hearted Night Writers

As I may have mentioned before, I'm part of a writers group, known as the Night Writers. Here we celebrate each other's successes, offer encouragement and share pertinent writing related news such as contests or helpful articles and books. We meet once a month to share the prose or poems we're working on at the time. After the piece is read by the author, all the other members offer helpful critiques. Of course, it's up to the author, whether she wants to accept the critiques. This group is helping me grow as a writer, and has helped improve and enhance all the stories I've written in the past - many of which were published in Hutterite Diaries, Spirit of Canada, Chicken Soup for the Soul, and various newspapers and magazines.

Sometimes we write pieces for the sheer fun of stringing together words, and to share with our friends at Night Writers. The following is one such story, written by Nadine Dobbin, with a keen sense of humour.

Thank you, Nadine for finding inspiration to write a story, playing with the title of my book and for allowing me to post it on my blog. Your story certainly added a touch of hilarity to our evening ths month, so much so, that I opted to post it so my readers can have a laugh out loud moment as well.

Hutterite Dairies

            

 “Elma!  Come here quick!” Linda called from the front of the house. As she came around the corner, Elma saw the back of a semi leaving the yard. 

 "They’re here!” Linda squealed, “They are truly, actually finally here!!”

 “Where are you? “ Elma asked searching among the rows of boxes to find her sister. 

 “I wanted you to be here when I opened the first box” Linda explained, “As you have helped me so much!”

 She pointed the scissors at a box.  Her hand was shaking as she asked. “Ready?”  Slicing through the tape she opened the box and pulled out the first book, “Ah, there’s nothing like the scent of a new book!  Especially when it’s your own!!”  Linda giggled. 

Elma added, “And when you have waited so long to see your diaries in print!”  

Linda ran a hand down the front cover, “It's a dream come true!  Hutterite Diaries...wait!  OH NO!  Elma, it says DAIRIES!!” 

“What?  IT Can NOT be, it simply cannot!”

            
Frantically Elma and Linda ripped open several more boxes, but each book was the same, printed in bold black letters on the front was HUTTERITE DAIRIES.

Linda grew pale, “Elma, what am I going to do?  I have a thousand books with the wrong title!”

            
Elma slowly shook her head, “Well tonight is our Night Writer’s meeting, we will take a box and ask our friends for advice!”

As soon as they were sitting around the table, Dora looked at Linda D. and asked, “What’s wrong?”

             
“Oh Linda, I can’t believe it! They spelled the name of my book wrong—on all THOUSAND copies!” Tears of frustration gathered in her eyes.

Linda D. said, “Oh my, what did they say when you contacted them?  They should fix this.”
  
 “They said it was their mistake and they would reprint and send the new books, but I still have all these books—they said they were mine to keep and do with what I wanted, too expensive to come and get them.”

           
 “Could you donate them somewhere?” a member asked

            
 “I can’t just give them away– then no one will buy my book!  The inside is fine!”

           
 “How about down the road we have a sale, sell them for cheaper?  After your thousand are sold?” Asked Nadine, “We can advertise it as, “Have you HERD– it’s an  Udderly Moovelous book sale!   We can serve milk and cookies “

           
 “Oh Nadine! “ Dora laughed. “Oreo cookies– because they are black and white like a Holstein, Oh! And we can wear black and white ….and put pictures of Holsteins and Oreo cows around the room and...”

            
 “It doesn’t seem right that I profit from their mistake though,” said Linda.

            
 “Then partner with a good cause, a charity or something” Nadine responded.   “We do need to let the public know that it isn’t about cows and dairy barns though– can’t mislead the public!” Nadine winked at Linda M.

      
 “Well, maybe, I’ll have to think on it.”

      
 “You mooost certainly do,” Nadine responded, “Ok, I’m sorry, just trying to be helpful. 

           
 “Stop already! This is no laughing matter!”

            
 “Yes, stop milking it for all it’s worth!”

           
 “Wait! Isn’t that a cliché?”

           
 “What about if we table this for now, and we can all think on it for the next month and bring some ideas to the next meeting?”  Dora said

           
 “What an udderly moovelous idea!” Nadine replied.

             
 “No, no, no!” Linda M said, “No more moo, no moo, no moo..!”

           
 “Linda, Linda, wake up! What do you mean, no moo?”  Elma shook Linda’s shoulder. 

 Linda sat up in bed and stared at Elma.  “Oh, thank goodness, it was just a dream!”