Writing for the Public

July 7, 2014

Karen Tooker, pre-school teacher at Community Day Care and Enrichment, is writing a book about the boot hill cemetery in Billings, Montana. We sort of compared notes. I told her about my 10-year attempt at writing a book about my lost uncle Bud (Carl Ralph Bonde, Jr.) and she told me about her research into those buried (or not buried) at boot hill. She has a knack for telling stories and so do I. Mine are mined from my childhood, such as the story about how my friends and I used to jump off the roof. I regaled a receptive class at the Day Care with the roof story until they quieted enough to read to them.

So during a reading about a fictional hippopotamus I told some 4-year-olds at Community Day Care about my experience in 1962 at a circus near Dillon. The side show barker had offered to show us a “blood-sweating hippopotamus” for a dime. I imitated the barker per my memory. Then I reflected on the hippopotamus’ talent.
From Wikipedia: Their skin secretes a natural sunscreen substance which is red-colored. [It] is sometimes referred to as “blood sweat,” but is neither blood nor sweat.