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An Irish hot toddy

Day 5, Writing 101 – Write about a random letter on a path that you discover in as few words as possible

The sky, so blue only minutes ago, had unleashed hell on me. I ran, staggering left and right, at the mercy of the wind buffeting me one second then dropping dead the next only to whip up and slam me from another angle. Head bowed low with chin tucked to chest and holding one forearm ahead of me to try and deflect the stinging rain pelting my bare face, I ran helplessly with no real destination in mind. I’d been caught out walking in a meadow at the edge of town.

At last, I reached an out-of-service phone booth on the outskirts and threw myself behind the Plexiglas. It wasn’t much of a refuge but when I turned sideways it sheltered my head and torso enough that I had the chance to catch my breath and consider my next move.

A water-logged envelope with the trademark airmail red and blue edging was stuck to the side of the booth being pelted by rain. I pried it free and worked at the torn end with cold fingers until the two sides separated and inside I found a simple note folded over a recipe card. Though blurred because of the water damage, it was still legible:

Clare,

Here is Great Grandad Michael’s recipe for the family hooch. I managed to get a copy of the ingredients from mom’s second cousins when I travelled through Galway.

Enjoy! (just not too much or all at once – haha!)

Molly xo

I scanned the list of ingredients before awkwardly shoving the papers into a pocket, my hands now moving with the dexterity of blocks of ice. I heard an engine and looked up to see a minivan appear like an angel from heaven. It rolled to a stop and the passenger window lowered.

“You MUST need a ride! We got caught in it too. Hop in,” a half-drowned looking man called out. A soggy border collie peeked over his shoulder from the back seat.

An hour later back at home, after I’d taken a long, hot shower, I remembered the recipe in my jacket pocket and dug it out. I smoothed it flat on the kitchen counter top and proceeded to make myself a batch of the Irish liqueur following Great Grandad’s instructions to the T and added it to a mug of coffee.

The whiskey warmed the last of me and chased the storm away for good. I bottled up half of the batch and wrote a note to go with it. Tomorrow I’d head the three blocks over and swing by to properly thank my minivan angel for his act of kindness.

 
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Posted by on April 10, 2015 in PonderQs

 

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