Wilmoth Foreman

Somewhere Along the Way

Somewhere Along the Way features a variety of easy-to-read commentaries on the ups, downs and in-betweens of life as viewed from a back yard swing. Subjects range from those as playful as accessorizing and gift-wrapping to empathetic interviews with war veterans to the hilarious frustrations and delicious rewards of gardening, groundhog included. Music and pets are oft-visited topics.
The articles, which originally appeared as columns in Columbia Tennessee newspaper The Daily Herald, are rich in gentle humor, down-home nostalgia, occasional serious ponderings, and quirky characters. Whether read cover-to-cover or ten minutes at a time, the collection's varied look at everyday existence is life affirming and uplifting.
Chris Fletcher, former editor of The Daily Herald, dubbed the writings “…a welcome break from the frenetic pace of our modern lives” and considered Wilmoth’s stories and themes to be “…at once intimate and universal.”
Author Karyn Henley added, “Wilmoth has the rare ability to touch your heart as well as your funny bone.”

At times light and funny, at times serious and contemplative, Wilmoth Foreman's Somewhere Along the Way is an always entertaining collection of essays about life lived fully, and with meaning.
-- Alan Gratz, author of Prisoner B-3087

Sample column: Two turtledoves…and a squirrel?…in a pear tree

As pear tree owners know, before the fruit gets ripe enough to harvest, squirrels will eat it until the trees are bare. So keeping the little varmints at bay becomes a top priority.
One local gardener (we’ll call her Joan) recently found herself in this very dilemma. As she gazed out the window, dreaming of pear preserves and mincemeat, what she saw was squirrels ready and waiting to feast in her pear tree.
Joan’s Good Samaritan neighbor (herein known as G. S.) heard of her plight and offered to trap the pesky rodents.
Squirrel No. 1 was quite accommodating —— took the bait and was hauled off to greener, pear-less pastures. So Joan’s song of woe changed to a parody on The Twelve Days of Christmas:
In the last week of Ju-une
a neighbor trapped for me
the squir-rels in my pear tree.
Squirrel No. 2 posed no problem as far as its trapping went. But a slight complication arose when G. S.’s dog (we’ll call him Dawg) entered the picture. Dawg was used to going for rides with his master, and did not consider a caged squirrel reason enough for him to stay home. So he hopped into the back seat alongside the trap.
When Joan’s dog (let’s name him Dagwood) saw Dawg in the car, he begged to go along also. Softhearted G. S. gave in and added Dagwood to the back seat mix. Away he and his eclectic bunch of passengers went.
Dagwood gets the blame for somehow unfastening the cage door and freeing the squirrel.
G. S.’s car was a spacious one, but its back seat could not accommodate a terrified squirrel being chased by two full-grown Labrador Retrievers. So the squirrel leapt into the front seat, followed of course by the two labs.
A squirrel running back and forth across the dashboard can diminish one’s ability to drive safely. But G. S. had a delivery to make —— more specifically, a critter to relocate —— so on he went, trying to ignore the menagerie-gone-berserk.
Suddenly the squirrel jumped down from the dashboard to the floorboard on the passenger side. There, Dagwood cornered and caught it. “Turn that squirrel loose!” G. S. yelled, and Dagwood miraculously obeyed.
The released squirrel immediately leapt for the nearest ‘higher ground,’ which turned out to be G. S.’s shoulder. With two barking labs hot on its heels, this perch wasn’t high enough. So it climbed to a better perch —— G. S.’s head. Next, the squirrel leapt toward the visor, grabbed its edge and hung on with all its wee might.
No driver’s manual had prepared G. S. for driving a car while peering through the hind legs of a squirrel swinging from the visor. Yet somehow, he managed not only to steer, but also to lower the passenger-side window. And somehow, the squirrel took advantage of that escape route.
Back at his neighbor’s tree, as G. S. reset the trap, he voiced two regrets. First, he was concerned that Squirrel No. 2 exited the car too near their neighborhood and might reappear in Joan’s tree.
Secondly, he said, “I wish someone had had a video camera.”
In conclusion, a couple of messages: To future squirrels captured from Joan’s pear tree —— rest assured that when you leave the neighborhood, you will be the sole passenger in the back seat of G. S.’s car.
To anyone who, due to a recent hallucination, decided to get psychoanalysis —— you can cancel that appointment. You really did see a man driving down the road with a squirrel on his head.
–July 2012