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Through Pressed Lavender: Part 8

The yard was not manicured by any means, but there was a certain care being applied to it. There were a few Gnomes here and there and a couple of pieces of curious yard art. The front door was small she thought as Berta opened the rounded top, and apparently heavy wood door. It opened into a beautiful living room, not cleaned for company, yet not dirty at all. George helped Lori over to the Victorian couch with the Paisley mole hair pattern while Berta went to grab the moccasins and put an extra gel pack into the freezer.

George said his goodbyes to Lori, he had driven her car and was going to check on Snaggles on his way back to his place. The surprised look on Lori's face made George reassure her that he would be just fine. As he piped up a bit to say "See Ya! Berta!" he was out the door and Lori just sat there trying to get her foot into a comfortable position. She had hit a main vein in her foot with the little rock and it is bruising up good, the pain may be going down too she thought as another pulse of blood made her double think her assertion. As she got comfy she also noted in her head that Berta had some nice antiques, probably back woods fare etc... but nice nonetheless.

He never wanted to see sand again in his life... ever. Living in Antarctica would be a more welcome assignment, but this would be his last. Arriving in Kuwait, the Major was looking for a familiar face. Captain Alicia Burns, his crush was coming right at him, but he could not see her through the crowd because of her height, 5'2" and cute as an...ahem "Major. Sir!" They had worked together on his last tour here and she gave him a ride back into HQIT. Tom was just happy to get this over with, like he said, he never ever wanted to see sand again and he really, really meant it.

The investments into Tesla, and Facebook, small solar companies and larger oil ones continued. The expenditures should be there, the stocks keep doubling and tripling over and that portfolio rarely get's any real attention. It is not borrowed against, it is not gouged for payments, it just sit there and grows. The stories became to come out in niche investment journals in 2006 and again in 2009. They were asked to drop the subject by some lawyers saying there was no real story here, just move on. They did and didn't stop, but it did die down again, the Lore of this Newman guy was now in the realm of the mystical to some. They could not run down a lead on an interview or insight into the methods of this brilliant investor.

Berta's place was just a small two bedroom cottage. A small entry into the living room on the right and the dining room on the left with a slightly larger framed window. It was looking out over an overgrown Rhododendron, but would be the front yard if it were trimmed. Behind the dining room was a quaint kitchen with both wood and conventional appliances. It was still country living and not a thing about the place seemed "new," it was a well lived and very comfy place. Berta came out of one of the bedrooms toward the rear of the cottage and was looking around expectantly. "Do you see some glasses?" She asked Lori as she scanned the room that was slightly cluttered but not dirty. Lori didn't see any and was just about to tell her so when the older woman gave a yip and a yeah, "found them!" "Be right back with those moccasins, I couldn't see a thing back there!" Was that a smile and a good feeling Berta? She hadn't seen this woman lighten up for a minute, maybe this is the real her?  

He made his way to the trail on the lake side of the property. It was still some ways away and over a rise to the Hudson's but it was the quickest way. He saw the broken Bat boxes and didn't think much of it until he saw one of Berta's owl house and she spent time on those. It was busted up real good, and no wonder she was so pissed off at Snaggles. Snapping off a good sized walking stick and feeling the weight on his side he continued on to the little place lakeside.











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