Hello everyone, everywhere,

The past few weeks have been, to say the least, an upheaval. I have finally left Michelle and Dean’s house. (Dean is very happy). And onward I have gone to my new castle. I must tell you, this one is a good one. My view is beautiful trees and I can hear people laughing. I kind of like it here. I hope they like me.

I seem to have alienated some, yet others would never let go. I think in itself it is definitely the rapture of the day. That’s all.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment and….rest.  Until we meet again at Fritz and Penny Ball’s Go Kart and Archery Emporium where the motto is Take a kart for a spin but keep your head down. And you guys listen, we’ve got Penny’s mom’s big yard for the whole event. You can find us easy on the corner of Pinksocks Lane and Allfortheboobs Crescent.


Man with a stick

How to start? Yeah, that’s the hard part.

Harold was a couple of chimes off from society’s norm. It never bothered Harold when people would look at him as if he had done something wrong. Harold had a walking stick and he called that stick Hamish.

Tired, stressed, but never down and out, somewhere else just seemed a better solution to Mr. Krank.  Harold Krank (with a K) got a new home.  But getting there was not easy.

Harold decided to say hi to the neighbours. You see, Harold was just like that.

Two days later, no neighbours seen. Harold was a people guy so he got frustrated easily. Finally, on the third day…a neighbour came out right across the hall from Harold. Smiling at the neighbour, Harold said, “Finally, a neighbour to talk to!” Harold said, with great zeal, “I’m Harold Krank (with a K)! I just moved in!”

The neighbour laughed and said, “I’m moving out!”

Oh well, the sun will be warm and stars will shine. Hello Harold Krank! That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone, everywhere,

The last week or so has been quite interesting. I’ve found that my greatest strength is in my undying belief in just going on. The obstacles that I have felt (or maybe caused) in the last year or so have taken a toll on me. I had just lost my best friend and it just seemed like it all got crazy for a long time. My greatest hope is that everyone involved can just rest now. Rest is what we all need. I need to focus on my new castle and writing. I’m very excited.

Michelle and Dean have taken extraordinary care of me. Beyond what anybody should be given. I’m so thankful that they were here for me. Anyways, aside from that, playing in the band, the weather, it’s all starting to work out. Let’s smile everybody; the sun is finally warming us up. That’s it.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment and…rest. Until we meet again at Derek and Wanda Spraul’s Home of Spraul Knife Throwing and Meditation Classes. (Folks to save you money we do it all in our basement!) Our motto is If you can’t cry it out, huck a cleaver. You’ll find us easy. We’re on the corner of Didyouseemywallet Avenue and I’llhaveanotherroundforthehouse Street. If you see Elmer with a hankie and a blue hat you went too far.



Fred Smiley is an odd ball, at least to some. To put it right, Fred is happy walking to his own song. (So to speak).

Fred works at the local grocery store. Not just any store, the Asphalt Falls grocery store. The big one, right on the corner of Dapper Street.

Asphalt Falls is a mighty fine place, if you ask Fred Smiley. Population: scattered. It gets darn crazy around census time.

Now Fred has one weird habit: his cat Simon. Simon is a very nervous cat. I’m sure Fred doesn’t help. He’s a very nervous guy.

At home when Fred rests on his couch his cat Simon sits on his head. Fred doesn’t mind. In fact when his head gets too warm he turns the heat down.

One day Fred and Simon go out in the car (Fred is shopping). But you see folks, to keep his cat Simon calm in the car, (you got it), Fred puts him on his head.

Driving down Main Street with a cat on your head gets some funny looks from strangers.

Fred stops at a crosswalk to let an elderly couple cross. The old lady says to Fred, “My what an extraordinary hat you have.” Fred smiles and waves. (Nice folks, the elderly).

Finally his destination. Fred gets out and heads into the store. Although he does forget the cat is on his head, sleeping. Fred is used to the cat sleeping on his head.

Unfortunately for Fred the store clerk has about 50 caged birds. And as the clerk is telling Fred Smiley what a unique hat he has on, Simon wakes up.

Simon sees the birds chirping and he starts climbing after them. (Don’t worry folks, the cages are locked up, and Simon is so old that he gets tired from trying to climb and Fred just puts him back on his head).

Fred Smiley looks at the clerk and says, “I don’t suppose you could show me a canary.”

The clerk is sweating badly and stutters to Fred, “Sir, I will only show you the door.” (Folks he is kicking Fred out).

So Fred leaves Pincel’s Bird Shop.

As he is walking to his car, two pretty girls walk by. They are giggling at Fred and say, “My what a lovely hat you have sir.”

Fred is going to say, “Thanks girls.” Instead Simon waves his tail in Fred’s face. The girls run off laughing.

Fred Smiley thinks to himself, my what a lovely hat, those girls said. He drives home thinking, yep, I’ll go with that.

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone, everywhere,

Hey you guys. Things have great lately! The weather’s getting better, and I’m getting better every day. Michelle and Dean are making sure of that.

I found my new castle, and I think my brother is smiling, because I found exactly what I needed to find. Everyone is happy, including me.

I know this time of year everyone is out smiling and meeting that certain someone, you know what I mean. So I’ll leave you to it for now and just let you know that all is well, and please stay with me. That’s it.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment..and rest. Until we meet again at Lester and Lucinda McTrowels’s Home of Frog Catching Championships and Fine China. (If you can believe it, under one roof). Our motto is If you can’t catch a frog catch a vase. You’ll find us on the corner of Dunnit Street and Really? Corner next to Dan Allbright’s house. He has twisted balloon animals all over the front yard. Can’t miss it.


Man carrying bag

Andrew Pratt, some would say, might be…oh I don’t know….odd. I don’t know why they would say that. I mean he does have that glint in his eye and kind of a funny smile, not a sneer but more of a come hither. He was a thirtyish kind of fellow. Had kind of shaggy brown hair in a sort of unkempt way. (It worked for him). Andrew didn’t like to dress like everyone else. He liked to make a statement. He was more of an ‘I remember you’ kind of person.

Andrew lived in Baxter Falls (population 3,000). It was a nice little place, and if you closed your eyes and the wind blew right you could almost taste the history.

Andrew decided that this Thursday was going to be his day. He was going downtown; he had 160 bucks to blow and he was going to get some stuff. (Clothes I mean). So on Thursday morning Andrew went downtown. The sun was out, and that wind? Well it was just right. And Andrew, well he knew where he was going. Right down to Steve’s Get a Good Suit or a Pair of Pants.

In Baxter Falls you want to be seen wearing a pair of green pants, and if you’re wearing a plaid coat, you’re fitting in. That was until Andrew Pratt came along. Andrew went downtown with his money and walked into Steve’s. Steve said, “Hello! Welcome to Steve’s! Can I get you a pair of green pants?”

Andrew replied, “Do you have any red ones? And maybe a paisley shirt.”

Steve grabbed his chest and said, “We don’t carry red pants! And we certainly don’t have any paisley shirts!”

So Andrew smiled and went on his way down the street.

Now you’d think after that kind of craziness at old Steve’s place that Andrew would give up. But no.  He wanted those red pants and the paisley shirt. He checked every clothing store in Baxter Falls. All three of them. Well, actually two and a general store.

First one: Millies. He walked in and luckily no one came to help him, so he looked around. He didn’t see any red pants. He saw a lot of green and dark blue. They seemed to be the colours of the day around this town. He looked through every shelf, and of course did not find anything close to what he was looking for, though they had some lovely plaid shirts and jackets.

Millies didn’t work out so off he went to the last big store which was really not very big. It was called Herman’s Hideaway. (I think he was a hippie kind of guy there).  When Andrew went in he noticed a picture of Herman on the wall. He did have short hair but he had bangs. I think that’s why they called him a hippie. Again no sales people around. So browsing Andrew went. He looked and looked. And again saw some mighty find plaid and some…well…Herman had some different kind of pants. He had white painter pants. I mean the kind you wear when you’re painting, and he carried the only sweat pants in town. They were green. They said Herman’s on the butt. (Nasty).

So again, off Andrew went. One more stop. The general store. The general store! How are you ever going to find clothes in the general store? But Andrew went in and looked around. There was a fellow at the desk and he nodded. I guess that was kind of a greeting. Andrew Pratt just smiled and carried on his way and started looking on the shelves.  As he looked on the clearance shelve (which was more dust than clothes), to his amazement he found a pair of pants his size. They weren’t red but they were purple. And that was good for Andrew. He dusted off some of the shirts but he didn’t find a paisley shirt. He did find an old kind of tie-dyed thing from the seventies. Andrew smiled and said, “This is good.” He walked up to that fellow at the till, paid for his clothes, and left the store with a smile on his face.

You know, Baxter Falls is a growing place. And it’s good to finally find the right clothes. And so ends the tale of Andrew Platt.

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone, everywhere,

You know, since I got out of the hospital Michelle and Dean have done nothing but take excellent care of me. And my friends have all been there too. Recovery is slow, though I’m right back to playing and doing everything I did before. But now I drink a lot of water and take different pills. But not so many pills. A lot of vitamins.

Lately the weather here has been, to say the least, gloomy. My new castle is still on hold and I’m frustrated and tired. But Michelle keeps me going every day, so I just keep on. I guess if people believe in you, you have to give back at least enough to make sure that what those people are giving you is valued. That’s how I see it anyway.

That’s it.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest. Until we meet again at Billy and Flossie Morton’s World Famous Home of Spitting Contests and Ladies’ Temperance Leauge, booked together every Tuesday and Thursday night, where our motto is If the spittin’ gets away from the can, at least the ladies’ league is sure to remind ’em. You’ll find it on the corner of StressedOutLane and LosingItBoulevard.



The wind couldn’t have been colder that day. (It could have been, but I doubt it). Sloane Prescott, he felt it. Lying in his bed with a blanket up around his ears.

You see, Sloane (who is twelve by the way), went skiing with his cousins. And Sloane was showing off again. Well folks, if tumbling end over tea kettle comes to mind, you’re in the loop.

Little Sloane got lucky, two sprained ankles. Can’t walk, hurts like heck as you move around. “At least ten days of bed rest, you get me boy?” says old Doc Turnkey.

Ten days of spring break holidays shot, that’s all Sloane could think.

“Or you’ll never walk again–ever!” finishes up old Doc Turnkey.

“Now if that don’t scare the bazongos out of a ticker tree!” shouts Sloane Prescott (all twelve years of him).

“Okay, I’ll wrap it up,” says Sloane to his imaginary audience.

The moral of this story, as seen through the thoughts of Sloane (I’m only twelve) Prescott is, If you’re going to use your good stuff, do it on the bunny hill not the black diamond.

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson