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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 10, Number 1, March 2016

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Joann Grisetti
Winter Springs, Florida, USA


Red Flags in the Wind

We christened all of our boats Putt-Putt. We had Putt-Putt Ichi, Putt-Putt Ni and so on. Each putt-putt boat had a distinctive paint job; whatever paint the manufacturer could find at the time. We invited neighbor children to come and enjoy the regattas, powered by stubs of birthday candles. We made little paper flags to hang around the tub and often tried to put a flag onto the putt-putt boat. The flags swamped the boats with their weight; we never did fashion one small enough to stand on the boat yet not swamp it.

words reused
among friends
a new meaning to red

No matter how carefully handled, the boats did not last very long. A few days or weeks of use and they fell apart. Solder fell off, or loosened enough to leak. Others became deformed by small fingers meaning well, but squeezing a little too hard. A ready supply of new boats showed up in the neighborhood shop; recycled soup cans via our trash. A boat sold at the store for fifteen yen, about four cents. Enough to buy a family rice for a day.

hibachi
warming the small family
rain at the door

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