Waynedale Leisure & Entertainment

Kick back and relax, you deserve it! All of the stories in this section are unique, original entertainment by our local Waynedale, (Fort Wayne) Indiana columnists, created just especially for you. Our columnists love to hear from their dedicated readers, view our columnist's biographies and e-mail them here.

As we finished our scout meeting, I reminded the boys about the next week. “Don’t forget that it is our monthly service meeting. We will be helping Old Widow Rosting clean out her shed, so come an hour early and dress in old work clothes.”

“Not another service project,” Gordy grumbled. “Last time it took us so long we didn’t get to do anything fun.”

“This job might be interesting,” I replied. “Have you ever gone through an old shed? You never know what strange things you might...

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Windy’s pickup truck was the third one to arrive at the scene of the fender bender. Both cars pretty well plugged up the road, and once it was determined no one was hurt, and the police had been called, Windy surveyed the situation.

1.Weather – decent if you’re wearing a coat.

2.No one’s going anywhere for a while.

3.A small crowd had gathered on the shoulder of the road.

A small crowd? Nay I say unto you, not in the world of Alphonse “Windy” Wilson. That there, gentle reader, is an...

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Phyllis Crawford’s quilt “It’s a Child’s World” won over the judges as the quilt best exemplifying the theme “Pink the Color of Spring.”

The Harlan UMC biennial quilt show organized by Blessed are the Piecemakers Sewing Group and held on April 8 & 9 had all the attendees seeing pink. 93 quilts were on display from wall hanging size to full size quilts. Judges Shirley Spindler, Rose Spindler and Lois Wenkheimer had their work cut out for them and they deemed Phyllis Crawford’s quilt titled “It’s a Child’s World,” the quilt that best exemplified the theme “Pink the Color of Spring.”

Talking to Phyllis I learn she started...

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REMEMBERING
by Hazel Bias Browning
(With apologies to Thomas Hood)
Ah, I remember, I remember
That company house where I was born
Deep in a coal camp hollow
Upon a windy March morn.

I remember, I remember
The hardships that we knew
That only brought us closer
As a family proud and true.

I remember, I remember
Walking proud and tall
Going to a three room school
That would mean education and prosperity
For us all.

I remember, I remember
Where I used to swing
And through the fresh air I would go
Like swallows...

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Marjorie Pincus looked out the front window at her husband, Marvin, and smiled. No matter how old he gets, she thought, he’ll always be the boy I remember, riding his bicycle through this town so many years ago.

Marvin had stopped picking out the nutgrass and was watching a small group of children across the street in the park. Two of them had kites, and the brisk wind of morning had them both up as high as string would allow. Soon, Marvin had ambled across the street and was standing behind...

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A boy in a mouse costume is one of the many charming blocks found on Charleene Wallace’s family crib quilt top.

I recently got a call from Charleene Wallace who lives in Huntington, Indiana. She explains to me how she, her sister and brother had inherited a handmade quilt after their parents passed away: A quilt they didn’t even know existed until they discovered it along with a crib-size quilt top while cleaning out their home. Who made them was a mystery because their mother sewed but never quilted. So they repacked them into their mother’s cedar chest and forgot about them for 13 years.

Last month...

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