More nostalgia

This is liable to be a bit long-winded, so bear with me. Y'all got me on a nostalgia kick. I can't sleep because of the fibro and my sinuses, so I might as well get up and write a bit.  Thank goodness for non-drowsy sudafed type stuff, so I can sleep and work. Last night just was not a good night for sleeping. I see a nap in my future today for a bit between getting necessary stuff done and heading to work. But, I promised more nostalgia, so here goes a few things that popped into my head over the last couple of days.

My great-grandmother not only had a ton of flowering stuff in her yard, which is what gave me a love of pretty things in the garden, but also was a champion African Violet grower. She had a TON of them in her house, and I wish I knew what happened to all of them when she died. I'd've liked to have had one all these years to remember her by, but she taught me a lot about flowers, and violets in particular. Between her and the lilac and spirea bushes at the house I grew up in, I have a "thing" for flowering stuff as the entrance to my garden and yard. Plans for when I do actually buy a place are to put in a hedge along the front side and both sides of the drive of lilac, forsythia, and spirea to not only beautify the place, but to keep nosy people from seeing what my yard does or does not look like. None of their beeswax, anyhow. But at least that way, folks going by can't gripe about the herb beds in the front yard, instead of me having politically correct grass mowed to the correct height.

The reunions had more than food and chit-chat to recommend them, if you knew what to look for. Now, the VFW hall we used for all but one reunion, for some odd reason, had a sidewalk along the two sides that bordered roads. This despite it being in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by cornfields. The only reason any of us could fathom for this was to delineate the parking at the roadside from the yard, to keep folks from parking on the grass. One year, my very young second cousin Chad, who was somewhere between toddlerhood and preschool age at the time because I remember him being small and chubby, became a bit of entertainment as everyone was packing up to leave. I have four first cousins, all male, and sometimes it really bit to be the only girl, when at other times over the years, it has been a blessing. (It's pretty neat in school when you can tell people to leave you alone or you will sic your four younger but bigger male cousins on them.)

Anyhow, so here us cousins were, standing around, keeping an eye on Chad, as we'd been designated babysitters whilst everyone packed up. Why five of us had to watch one little kid, we couldn't figure out until he started getting into everything. And I do mean EVERYTHING. Trying to catch him was like trying to catch a greased pig. That little snot was quiiiiick. He'd finally settled down to standing on the sidewalk, only because we stood around him in a ring to keep him in one place, when he saw a spider harmlessly doing it's thing of walking across the sidewalk. One of us, I don't remember who, started encouraging him to smash it. Being obnoxious preteens to mid-teens, we all joined in. So of course, his fat little hand went WHAM! on the spider and smashed it to the sidewalk. At this point, his mother walks over to see what's going on. Just in time to see her precious baby boy look at his hand with the smushed spider and LICK it off his hand. "OH MY GOD!" she cried, as us kids laughed and went "EEEEEWWWWW!" My Mom, for some reason, had been taking a last few photos, and captured this lovely moment on film Yes, she still has the photo in the albums at home.

WARNING: This particular memory is not necessarily NSFW. No photo to accompany, but the memory is a bit raunchy.

Another moment she captured on film for family posterity and potential embarassment factor happened within a few years of that on a wonderful Thanksgiving spent at my Aunt Janet and Uncle Len's house. They and their huge garden are two of the people and one of the reasons I homestead. (Like I said before, I blame my family and a few friends. Mostly, I blame my family.) Much of the family in-state at the time gathered at their house that year for The Big Feast. (Over the years, it migrated to Mom's brother's house - Uncle Jim and Aunt Helen put on a heck of a pigout party, trust me. My family does food very well.) Aunt and Uncle had this set of a jug and matching drinking mugs that were, well, risque. They were, in short, a naked female boob, anatomically correct. Uncle Len, being the jokester that he was, grabbed one of the mugs and pretended to be nursing on the teat. Mom had her camera out, as she was photographing everybody there. CLICK! when the shutter without warning, and, for all posterity, Uncle Len was captured goofing off with the mug. Yes, she still has that photo in the family albums as well.

Mom's Dad, my Grampa Max, was another of the family that got me started homesteading. When I was a little girl, he and his second wife, Grandma Doris, had a cabin on a branch of the Chippewa River near Berryton, MI. It was a lovely cabin, unless the river flooded. We had a small orchard, I think, but I do remember the chickens, rabbits, and the garden. See what I mean about my family getting me into this early on? I spent a couple of years living with them and several adopted aunts and uncles there, whilst Mom was still in town further south, trying to find a house for us. She'd come up on weekends, arriving late Friday night and leaving after Sunday dinner was done and cleaned up.

I spent a lot of time "helping" in the garden and kitchen, and I do mean "helping" with quotes, because I was only 5 or 6 at the time.  Grandpa and I spent a lot of time together, and I have many fond memories of him due to the years I spent there, and the time he spent in town with Mom and me once we had a house. We went fishing off the neighbors dock, as the river literally backed on to the cabin (hence why the cabin got flooded if the river went too high), and gigging for frogs. I remember one time, Grandpa, despite usually moving fairly slowly and thoughtfully, moved extremely fast. This was because he was in the garden, hoeing, and I had espied what I, in my young mind, had apparently thought would make a nice friend. A snake. And not just any snake. A copperhead that had slithered up out of the river into the back yard. I don't remember much other than Grandpa racing up with the hoe to chop off the snake's head when it was fairly close to me, then grabbing me in a big hug as he dropped the hoe. Being much older and wiser now, I can understand his fright and quick moves. Back then, all I knew was he'd killed my new friend I was trying to make. The sadness didn't stick around long, for whatever reason, but the memory has.

I also remember a Thanksgiving many years later, when Grandpa was dating the woman who would become his third wife, Edna. She is a darling woman. Smart, funny and loving. She sure kept Grandpa in line, too. "MAX!" she'd say. "Behave yourself!" Then they'd grin at each other. But that year, Mom and I had gotten a Turkey Day card from Grandpa with a note inside saying something to the effect that he and Uncle Harold would be down for dinner as invited, and was it okay if he brought along his "young lady friend" for dinner as well. I remember Mom looking at the card, and despite knowing Grandpa's penchant for humor and understatement, exclaiming, "Okay, he can bring her, but just how young is 'young'?" We found out the day of the feast. Not much younger than he was, spunky, feisty, and fun. We fell in love with her right off. And then the fun started. Mom always puts out green olives for big dinners, and this year was no exception. We're all stuffing ourselves more than the proverbial turkey, when Harold starts in on them. "You guy better lay off those little green love apples, or I'm going to have to separate you on the way back home. No telling WHAT kind of hijinks you'll get up to in the car! And at your ages, too!" We all started laughing, and after that, every time one of them would go for more olives, everybody would start laughing.

Okay, this is getting a bit long-winded, and I need to lay back down and reset my alarm. I hate nights when I don't sleep well, as I get next to nothing done otherwise, but at least I'll be awake for work. Hopefully, we'll get out similar to last night - we actually only worked eight hours for the first time in I don't know when. Certainly since I transferred to second shift in mid-April! I love the overtime, but it's starting to drag a bit! Hugs, all!

KINDLE FREEBIES OF INTEREST


Fruit & Vegetable Growing - Two Book Bundle: An Introduction To Growing Organic Vegetables And Fruit Berries
Container Gardening Made Simple: Beginners Guide To Growing Health Vegetable & Herb Gardens
Raised Bed Gardening for Beginners: Simple Guide to Growing Beautiful Gardens!
Herb Gardening For Beginners: How to Plant an Herb Garden