mzawf.org • View topic - Pat Ritter. Books
Login

  • Advertisement

Pat Ritter. Books


An extraordinary writer
:read ENJOY READING THE PAGE PER DAY

  • Author
    Message

Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Fri Oct 16, 2015 9:48 pm

'Brilliant - OMR - Stories' - Page 5:

Esmeralda

There she stood in the lust field of clover munching on the green grass. Her teats squeezed dry. Her mind to be a milking cow and nothing else, life had changed.
Prior to her being a milking cow she was a princess; her mother, the proud Queen of cows - her father the King Bull. What changed in her short life? Alas at birth she was taken from her mother and replaced by an awkward shaped bull calf. Large head, falling away to a huge hump, similar to a camel; most of the other calves laughed at this new addition to the royal family.
Esmeralda was fostered to another herd on another farm. She missed her royal family and hoped to one day return. Until then, she lived the life as a pauper on another farm.
Life went on and in the following year Esmeralda grew into a glorious heifer. She was constantly visited by young bulls in the hope she may fall in love and breed heifer calves to increase the worth of the herd for the farmer.
Her memory instilled in her mind of her royal parents, proud and loyal to their owner. Many times she heard from the older cows about her replacement calf to understand he was a strange shape and nothing like her.
Esmeralda wanted to return to her parents to see for herself this new calf, which was now a Mickey Bull discarded by the other Mickey Bulls in the herd.
One night she made her escape to return to her parent’s herd. Sneaking into her old farm late one night she was accosted by a bull she’d never seen or imagined to be a bull. They eyed one another, ‘Are you my replacement?’ Esmeralda asked in a kind mo.
‘Are you Esmeralda?’ The Bull mooed in return.
‘Yes – you must be my brother?’ She mooed. His nod of the ill-shaped head instantly bought tears to Esmeralda. She’d always wanted a brother. They mooed all night to catch up with what’d happened since she was taken at birth. Her parents were still King and Queen.
When news spread of her return both parents were delighted to see her all grown into a glorious princess. Her coat glowed, her sharp horns glistened in the sun and a smile creased across her mouth. She wanted to stay with her brother.
After the milking of cows was finished the farmer saw the latest addition to the family and instantly noticed it was the calf he had given to his neighbour. Whether it was human-animal attraction, the farmer saw the family as one including the ill-shaped Mickey Bull. They were happy and he decided to keep them together.
And this is why Esmeralda to this day is a content cow delivering the highest class quantity of milk for her owner. She’s happy to be a sister to the ugliest Bull in the herd.
Word count: 489
TO READ THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/270499
User avatar
patritter
mzawfer
mzawfer
 
Posts: 3522
Joined: Tue Dec 13, 2011 10:45 pm
Location: Brooloo - Queensland - Australia
Has thanked: 0 time
Have thanks: 1855 times

Advertisement

Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Sat Oct 17, 2015 9:35 pm

'Brilliant - OMR - Stories' - Page 6:

I’ll Never Try That Again

On the 21st of January 2012, my vehicle was involved in a road accident. This was the first road accident I’d personally experienced in forty-five years of driving.
It was an unfortunate incident because the driver of the other vehicle was well known to me. At the time I was more concerned no one was physically hurt. Vehicles can be repaired; however bodies take many years to recover.
Because my vehicle was insured, fully comprehensive, I never worried about the tow truck or the fees and costs because I knew my insurance company would pay all costs. Or so I thought at the time. It was a different story after the loss assessor examined my vehicle and decided it was beyond repair and to write-it-off.
Initially the lost assessor mentioned a pay-out figure of $4,500.00 would be paid by the insurance company for total loss of my vehicle. Lucky for him he was on the opposite end of the telephone as my words of astonishment filtered through the line.
Daily I telephoned the insurance company to determine who I may contact to talk to and explain my dilemma. Within two days I was cast to the winds of Australia speaking to faceless people on the end of the line. I spoke to a person in Adelaide trying to explain my unhappiness.
Eventually I spoke to a person who offered $6,100.00 settlement. Again my blood pressure rose above what it should have been. Not one person belonging to the company ever contacted me to keep me up-to-date with the progress of my claim.
After many hours of negotiating I settled on an agreed price of $7,300.00. Many hours of investigation to determine a fair figure to replace my vehicle I determined was $7,600.00. When I contacted the insurance company to clarify the amount we agreed on, they told me the amount would be transferred electronically to my bank account. They also told me because I pay the insurance monthly I had to pay for the remaining twelve months before the transaction would be transferred. Also to my astonishment no refund would be made available of the subsequent nine months payment of the policy.
To say I was flabbergasted was an understatement. From the beginning at the time of the road accident in which I was the victim, instead of feeling secure because the vehicle had comprehensive insurance, I’ve been screwed by the insurance company, in more ways than one.
I believe in honesty and fairness, however, after my personal experience with this particular insurance company, I’ll never try that again.
Word count: 437
TO READ THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/270499
User avatar
patritter
mzawfer
mzawfer
 
Posts: 3522
Joined: Tue Dec 13, 2011 10:45 pm
Location: Brooloo - Queensland - Australia
Has thanked: 0 time
Have thanks: 1855 times

Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Mon Oct 19, 2015 9:54 pm

'Brilliant - OMR - Stories' - Page 7:

The Anthill

One of the funniest stories I’d ever heard was told by my uncle at my sister’s wedding. Uncle Vivian presented his talk at the wedding reception and spoke on behalf of the family.
To the embarrassment of my sister, and those who knew her most of her life, related to the story Uncle Vivian unfolded. It began when she was a small child, aged around five or six years old.
My sister always had a built-in personality, one which if she was angry, exploded like a volcano spitting volumes of lava onto anyone nearby. Her temper placed her in more trouble at any one time and; behold the person who was in the firing line.
On this occasion she visited our grandparents who lived on a cattle and sheep property in far western Queensland. We children rode in the back of an old Land Rover utility. Our job was to tell our grandfather if we sighted a kangaroo by hitting the roof of the cabin of the vehicle. Once we sighted one, our grandfather stopped the vehicle and shot the kangaroo. The kangaroo was thrown into the rear utility section with us kids. Further along my grandfather stopped the vehicle, dragged the dead kangaroo from the rear of the Land Rover to skin it.
At the time my uncle shared this story, his voice carried me back to when he described. Among the bush were hundreds and hundreds of mounds standing like sentinels. They were made from earth standing almost a similar height to a child six years old.
My uncle described how my sister needed to go to the toilet. My grandfather told her to go behind one of these sentinels so she wouldn’t be embarrassed.
Everyone at the reception was waiting for my uncle’s response to share with them ‘what happened next’. His sudden burst of laughter with the words, ‘you should have seen her, she raced back to the vehicle with her pants down around her ankles, screaming she’d been attacked’.
My sister went behind an ‘anthill’. In her haste to finish what she was doing was attacked by meat ants from the colony of ants at the ‘anthill’.
Obviously she was embarrassed when this story was told at her wedding reception but she couldn’t believe our uncle would share the story with her wedding guests.
Word count: 394
TO READ THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/270499
User avatar
patritter
mzawfer
mzawfer
 
Posts: 3522
Joined: Tue Dec 13, 2011 10:45 pm
Location: Brooloo - Queensland - Australia
Has thanked: 0 time
Have thanks: 1855 times

Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Tue Oct 20, 2015 9:26 pm

'Brilliant - OMR - Stories' - Page 8:

No Shirt – No Shoes – No Worries

Each month I visit my daughter and grandson in Brisbane. These visits have been a regular occurrence. It gives me time to be alone with my grandson; to seek out, what he’s been doing, such as rugby league; school and other activities in his life.
On my last visit, after picking him up from school we went to the local McDonald’s for ‘the pick of the shelf’ which he normally picks anything from the top shelf.
Whilst we enjoy one another’s company, our conversation got around to his playing rugby league. Last year his team won the premiership for under twelve years. Trials for under thirteen years were that night and the football boots he wore last year were too small. He needed a new pair.
I don’t know if it was a flashback to my day when I played rugby league, at a similar age to my grandson, my mind remembered I received a new pair of footie boots. My parents couldn’t afford to buy them. I remember a fellow who worked with my father at the time purchased a pair for me. I was delighted.
After some deliberation we visited a shopping centre and forty dollars less in my bank account later, my grandson had a new pair of football boots. He proudly wore them to the trails and afterwards discarded them soon after returning home with a no care attitude.
I don’t know if he appreciated my reason for purchasing the boots. I don’t think he did.
You see in our day we didn’t have gracious grandparents who splashed out on their grandchildren. My family weren’t poor, however, it was the custom of the day to wear no shirt, no shoes, and have no worries. No one cared how you dressed. Everyone was the same.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I had a time machine, like the one Rod Taylor had in the film of the same name, to go back in time and show my grandson how we survived? I would show him when I was his age, I never owned a pair of shoes.
To escape from today opulence and take our grandchildren to a time when we were their age would certainly be a lesson of not wanting everything instantly. Would it make a difference? I doubt it somehow.
Everywhere we went, except days at school, often even at school, we went barefoot; wore no shirt, and definitely had no worries. We were kids after all living our dream in a country town.
Word count: 428
TO READ THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/270499
User avatar
patritter
mzawfer
mzawfer
 
Posts: 3522
Joined: Tue Dec 13, 2011 10:45 pm
Location: Brooloo - Queensland - Australia
Has thanked: 0 time
Have thanks: 1855 times

Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Wed Oct 21, 2015 8:54 pm

'Brilliant - OMR - Stories' - Page 9:

Boomerang

Charley Drake recorded a song entitled ‘my boomerang won’t come back’ when I was aged twelve years old. This tune repeated over and over in my mind. I can share with you the exact place I first heard this song. It was when I was walking along Graceville Avenue, Graceville an outer western Brisbane suburb.
It’s a catchy tune describes the plight of a young aboriginal, the chief’s son, trying to learn to throw his boomerang and it wouldn’t come back. He threw the thing all over the place, practised until he was black in the face but his boomerang didn’t come back. The family witch doctor was bought in to teach him how to throw the boomerang.
Doing what the witch doctor told him to do; he drew back the boomerang, steady, and threw it into the air hitting the flying doctor plane. ‘I think I hit the flying doctor’ were the last words of the song and he asked the witch doctor, ‘do you know first-aid’.
At the time I thought the song was very catchy and funny. A search of the internet produced a u-tune of the song and after listening to it again after more than a half-a-century I still think the song and lyrics remain funny and catchy.
A boomerang is made from wood. Modern boomerangs are made for sport and often have carbon fibre-reinforced plastics, not like the original ones made by ancient aboriginal peoples.
They were mainly used as hunting weapons. The name boomerang referred to returning throwing stick. The oldest Australian boomerang is ten thousand years old, so they’ve been around for a long time.
There is a question I want to ask before I complete this story: ‘What do you call a boomerang that won’t come back?’ Answer: ‘A stick.’
Word count: 303
TO READ THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/270499
User avatar
patritter
mzawfer
mzawfer
 
Posts: 3522
Joined: Tue Dec 13, 2011 10:45 pm
Location: Brooloo - Queensland - Australia
Has thanked: 0 time
Have thanks: 1855 times

Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Thu Oct 22, 2015 10:08 pm

'Brilliant - OMR - Stories' - Page 10:

Be Yourself – If You Dare

Growing up in the 50’s without television, telephone, computers, or any of today’s modern appliances, were tough? Probably we didn’t think so at the time because there was nothing to compare with today’s modern society.
In today’s society there is nothing one doesn’t want nor can achieve if they put their mind to it. In my day and age growing up; my both parents worked to keep the roof over our heads.
School vacations were spent with an aunt or grandparents. These times weren’t happy times because at each opportunity my self-esteem was battered by being constantly called ‘an idiot’, blamed for anything which went wrong. I felt worthless and unwanted. It was difficult to make a decision in case trouble loomed. Discipline in those days was handed out by all authorities, including parents, relatives, school teachers, priests, or any other person in authority. If a police officer spoke to us we thought we were going directly to jail. What changed in our society over fifty years?
With television, computers and modern electronic devices many things have changed. Times have definitely changed, in my opinion, not for the better. Saturday nights were spent playing cards with family and friends. I can still see my grandmother standing on the top stairs of her kitchen, the words indelibled in my mind, ‘children should be seen and not heard’.
These words echo each time I think of her and wonder what she would think of the modern era. If my memory serves me correct, I was almost thirty-five years of age before I actually recognized I wasn’t ‘an idiot’. Up until this age, I often analysed how I’d survived with marriage, raising a family and employment.
Than started a journey by writing a few words for an assignment at college. This turning point changed my life forever. I was told I had a gift for writing – I wrote the way I spoke – which was unique.
At the time, I remember the words my lecturer said as if it was yesterday. I didn’t totally understand his words at first. Actually to tell you the truth I felt like an alien who’d recently arrived from another planet.
I took the bull by the horns to develop my skills and believe in myself to become a writer.
To banish the old saying from my mind, I started to tell myself, I could write if I wanted to. I wasn’t an ‘idiot’. By continually doing this I needed to be myself and take the dare to succeed.
The rest is history. I wonder what my ancestors would say if they could see me now. I suppose they’d admit if they didn’t do what they did at the time I wouldn’t be where I am today.
Word count: 466
TO READ THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/270499
User avatar
patritter
mzawfer
mzawfer
 
Posts: 3522
Joined: Tue Dec 13, 2011 10:45 pm
Location: Brooloo - Queensland - Australia
Has thanked: 0 time
Have thanks: 1855 times

Re: Pat Ritter. Books

Postby patritter » Fri Oct 23, 2015 10:09 pm

'Brilliant - OMR - Stories' - Page 11:

If Ever There Was A Reason To

Do you believe in fate? I believe everything in our lives happens for a particular reason. We have no control of why it happens when it does; also we don’t have any control over the outcome. It has happened too often to put it down as coincidence.
I look from my office window and see a burgundy coloured Toyota Corolla Hatch-back Sedan. This motor vehicle belongs to me. I’ll share with you the story of how this motor vehicle came to be mine.
In January this year I owned a Magna Sedan. Over the time I owned this vehicle; it was regularly serviced and kept in good working order. There were times I wanted to trade it in to get a smaller vehicle however, the time was never right nor did the thought of letting it go concerned me. I loved driving it. It was comfortable.
Obviously you’ve heard or personally experienced events happening in your life in threes. My experience began when the television saw its final days; closely followed by the computer and almost instantly, the motor vehicle.
When the television went to the grave, I purchased a new television from Aldi store at a cost of a third less than I’d purchased my previous television from a well known distributor. Almost without allowing the television to settle in, next went the computer.
Unfortunately like many people I can’t live without a television or a computer. On the day I had the computer repaired I was returning home when my Magna was involved in a road accident in which I wasn’t to blame.
After the insurance agent assessed it, the vehicle was written off. Eventually a settlement figure was agreed upon by both parties. Where would I find another vehicle, crossed my mind. At the time I hadn’t any idea of which type of vehicle I wanted only it should be in a price range I received from the insurance company.
Was this an act of fate, or was it meant to happen?
Before I completely lost the Magna, I needed to recover the registration number plates including the registration sticker to cancel the registration. The Magna by this time was placed in its final resting place at the local wrecking yard.
If ever there was a reason to go to that particular wrecking yard on that particular day, at that particular time; it was meant to happen. Before driving into the entrance to the wrecking yard a burgundy coloured Toyota Corolla Hatch-back Sedan was parked on the footpath showing a ‘For Sale’ sign.
‘This is the car I was looking for. It’ll do me.’ I thought. Without blinking an eyelid I purchased the vehicle and my life is again in equilibrium once more.
Word count: 466
TO READ THESE STORIES CLICK ONTO THIS LINK: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/270499
User avatar
patritter
mzawfer
mzawfer
 
Posts: 3522
Joined: Tue Dec 13, 2011 10:45 pm
Location: Brooloo - Queensland - Australia
Has thanked: 0 time
Have thanks: 1855 times

PreviousNext

Return to The Author, Pat Ritter



cron