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Slim Randles
Slim Randles

Windy Wilson looked through the notions aisle at the store and finally picked out the package of needles he wanted. Big ones. The big ones are easier to thread and it’s harder to drop them and stick yourself.

Mrs. Andrews walked past him with her shopping cart.

“Going to do some sewing, Windy?”

“Oh hi there, Miz Andrews. Well … you know how it is. Gotta have a modiclum of needles around in case a cow cuts herself up on a bobwire fence.”

“Oh I see,” she said, wandering off.

Annette George, owner of the Soup ‘R Market, stood by the cash register and smiled. Windy’s at it again.

Windy went into the personal hygiene section of the store and picked up five packages of dental floss. The unflavored kind. Then he went up to pay for them.

“Hi Annette.”

“Hey Windy,” she said. “Starting another quilt?”

He looked around. Okay, no one close.

“Yep,” he said. “Thought I’d try a Grandma’s Flower Garden pattern this time. Looks like a booger to piece together, but I might could be ready for it.”

“Who’s it for?” Annette asked. She knew Windy made these quilts for others, often anonymously, because there are some folks who wouldn’t understand an old cowboy and camp cook who sewed quilts for a hobby. She also knew he sewed them with dental floss because it was stronger than thread and was easier to thread through one of those big needles.

“Randy Jones and Katie Burchell’s baby,” he said.

Annette’s mouth dropped open. “You mean, they’re expecting?!!!”

“Well,” Windy said, “I heard they got engaged.”

“Yes?”

“So they’ll prolly get married, don’t ya think?”

“Okay…?”

“So someday they’ll have a baby and this quilt is for the kid.”

“Windy,” Annette said, “that could be … years.

He grinned. “At my speed, Annette, I figger I might jest be right on time.”

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