Weather or Not

Grampy has three reasons left to live. #1 is to complain about the weather ,#2 is to collect coupons and #3 is to harass the dog that lives next door.

Joshua trees in the Mojave Desert.
These are NOT the trees I'm talking
about, though.

Grampy lives within spittin' distance of us but I call him a couple times a week to see how he is, and right off the bat I get the weather report. “It's blowing like holy hannah over here.” he'll say (whenever there's a hint of a breeze) “I've never lived in a town that had such god-awful wind storms”. For the record, Grampy lived in the Mojave desert for a good part of his honery life and if you've ever been to that fair region, you'll remember noticing that all the trees grow sideways—being constantly battered by the strong south winds that are a permanent part of the climate there. Here in this town (which sits in a valley, just over the mountains from that desert), an occasional wind storm means that much-needed rain is on the way and we look forward to it greedily. We have a fairly temperate climate here. It doesn't freeze in the winter (I can't remember the last time I wore my winter coat), and the summers are hot but relatively dry. Pretty nice if you ask me...but don't ask Grampy.

Grampy's Thermomoter. It's never wrong.

NO weather is good weather in his book. His rain gauge isn't half full or half empty, it's rusty and broken and he's thrown it in the trash. Every weatherman is a crook and they all have one thing in common—they are all liars. They predict sun and a few clouds might pass in the sky. They tell us it will rain and we'll go the whole day with nary a drop of precipitation till nightfall. They'll give us a high temp of 87 and Grampy will check the beat-up Pepsi thermometer nailed to the outside of his single-wide every hour in hopes of proving them wrong. God forbid we ever see any of our local weather-casters at Walgreens or Foods Co. some day. Grampy won't hesitate to give them a piece of his mind. So I am always prepared when I talk to or see Grampy, for predictions of doom and gloom.

My flowering plum trees this spring.

One beautiful spring day Grampy came over for dinner. The windows were open, the birds were chirping, the hummingbirds were humming, the BBQ was sizzling...it was the quintessential perfect day. He walked in the door and I was eager to hear the daily weather report from him. There was absolutely nothing negative he could say so I beat him to the punch - “Hi Dad! Just look how gorgeous the weather is today!” as I gestured to the open french doors to the back yard. Then I paused. At last, I thought to myself, I will hear his praise for mother nature. “Yeah” he said as he looked out the screen door at two butterflies frolicking in the flowers in my garden. “But it will probably be hotter than hell tomorrow.”

Deep sigh. He had me there.

Grampy's Ship Comes In

The Car Keys Grampy No Longer Has

Grampy called me at work one morning, shortly after we took his car keys away. I was knee deep in deadlines, proposals and meetings, but I put it all on pause to take the call. Although the roads are once again safe for pedestrians and motorists alike, this means that Grampy is now dependent on Mike and me to take him to the various and sundry places he needs to go. 

What time do you get off work”? He demanded. “I get off at 4:30, why?” I asked. “Well” he went on “I need to get to the bank” The bank? I was perplexed. I was expecting either Walmart, Walgreens or FoodsCo (the holy trinity of shopping in Grampy's world) since it was Wednesday and the coupons had just come in the mail the day before, but the bank? Grampy believes in a cash-only system. No credit, no checks just good old American paper money like the good Lord intended. He may as well have said he wanted me to take him to church—I couldn't have been more surprised. “Why in the world do you need to go to the bank, dad?” I asked. “In 1993 I bought this magnetic bracelet.” he explained “The TV said it would cure whatever ailments I had so I bought it. I wore it for two years and it didn't cure nuthin! I still got the arther-itis as bad as ever.” He was clearly disgusted and obviously surprised that the Made for TV info-mercial would feed him lies and offer him a device that did not live up to it's touted merits. God bless America where we are not only free to, but encouraged to out and out lie to the general public and convince them to send us their money in exchange for crap.

How the Magnetic Bracelet was Supposed to Work

He went on...“So I heard about a class action lawsuit against the bracelet company and I signed up. The case is finally done and we won. I got my share of the winnings in the mail just now and I need to get it to the bank and cash it. Today!” Well that was the first I'd heard about this. It had evidently been going on for 16 years and he finally won? Maybe the old man isn't entirely senile if he can gather his wits about him long enough to win a lawsuit. “WOW!” I exclaimed, dumbfounded by this accomplishment and thinking maybe he can start paying his own bills now. “ That's GREAT”, I said, excited as all get-out, “but I can't come get you till 4:30. How much did you get?!” Grampy took a deep breath and I could feel his chest puffing out like the lone rooster in a coop full of large breasted hens, as he proclaimed “This check here is for $32.56! Can't you get off any sooner?”

Christmas in the Country

For as long as I can remember I've wanted to live in the country—buy some acreage in the woods and build a little log house with a large screened-in porch where I can sit on a  summer evening, relax on the porch swing, watch the stars twinkle in the sky and breathe deeply of the cool country air.  I imagine a big red chicken coop in the yard and two goats in a pen. Daisy and Dusty. (Oh yes, I've named them. Somebody stop me before I start describing the perfect rose hedge bordering the white picket fence for crying out loud.) As fate would have it, however, I married a city boy with no pinings for country air nor cravings for the piney woods so here we sit in the neatly paved, well manicured suburbs, and here we will undoubtedly stay.

Sigh.

Me, Grampy, Mandee and Mike in Texas, 1979

But there was a time in 1979 when my dream was briefly realized. We were living in Dallas, Texas. Mike's job seemed stable enough and we got a bee in our bonnets to buy a house. With remarkably little persuasion I convinced Mike we needed to move ourselves and our three small children to a little rural town called Kaufman, Texas. It was about an hour south of Dallas and looked exactly like Mayberry RFD. We found a five acre parcel of land off a dirt road out in the wooded countryside,  smack dab in the middle of nowhere. It was conveniently located 19 miles away from the nearest telephone and/or convenience store, and it looked like heaven to me. We purchased a brand new double wide, plopped it down parallel to the little pond across the road and right next to a grove of walnut trees. We then went back to the city, packed our bags and like Lot, fleeing the city of Gomorrah, we left Dallas behind with nary a glance backwards. Well I did at least.

That summer  I planted and tended the perfect vegetable garden, gathered wild Mustang grapes, canned a bazillion jars of jelly, and watched my children run outside half naked, barefoot, free and happy. I even had a rooster scratching in the yard that I'd rescued from a busy city intersection in Dallas right before we moved, and I wanted for nothing...except a front porch. I could see it in my mind—rustic and sturdy. A place for me to sit out at night after the kids were in bed and play my guitar with only the glorious stars and acres and acres of deep, dark emptiness for company.

The pond across the road and my newly plowed garden

It was a few weeks before Christmas that Grampy called to say it was high time he and mama drove out from California to pay us a visit. My mother in law never showed up without her white glove, so in preparation I cleaned the house from rafters to baseboards, set out the lame plastic floral centerpiece they'd bought us the Christmas before and mentally prepared myself for the invasion of my in-laws.

Part of the house and the tire swing as seen from my garden

Much to my surprise, (and I'll never forget this as long as I live) Grampy arrived—on time and  alone. He pulled into the yard in his beat up old pick up truck....which was carefully packed high with pieces of his prized scrap lumber. You remember his rather large collection of used wood he'd pilfered from construction sites for years and years. Well he had come out to Texas to share the wealth! He'd come out to Texas to     build me my dad-gummed porch!

I watched in awe the next few days as, tool belt in hand, he nailed short 2x4 weathered scraps of wood into place to build the deck off the front door. Each piece was varied  in color. Some were gray, some were dark brown, some were paint spattered, white, black or red and, once assembled, they made the most beautiful  12' x 7' deck I'd ever laid eyes on.  I was a happy country girl with my mis-matched quilted porch. Grampy stood back and admired it with me, then decided we needed a proper roof for covering —but he didn't have any pieces long enough to serve as posts.  He gazed off into the woods then picked up his chainsaw and took off into the brush. I watched as he cut down several young poplar trees, stripped off the branches and dragged them back to the house. He then fashioned them into supports for his hodge podge construction of multi hued lumber that formed the roof.

Can you see me? Standing back of the property in the woods

He finished the project within a week's time. It was a job well done, sturdy enough to survive Armageddon and just about the best Christmas present I'd ever received. I was living in the lap of luxury in my opinion, and felt gloriously  spoiled. The next day Grampy drove into town to the feed store and came back with six newly hatched chicks. He said we needed more than a scraggly old rooster if we expected to eat eggs for breakfast. The kids were in hog heaven and even the old barnacled rooster loved those chicks and managed to keep his good eye on them night and day.

A few days later, with a final admonishment to the kids to eat their broccoli and watch for ticks, Grampy climbed into the cab of his pick up and  left for home. Later that night as I sat out on my porch with our little black dog quietly snoring beside me, I played every country western song my father ever taught me on my guitar,  serenading the crickets and the vast dark emptiness around me. It was the best audience I'd ever had.  As I leaned back under the blanket of stars with a deep contentment in my soul, I thought of Grampy and how honery and cantankerous he can be, yet how he drove all the way to Texas to build me a porch for Christmas. With a deep sigh, I looked up at the twinkling heavens and said thank you to the creator of all that glory and I whispered, "I can't ever possibly be happier than I am at this moment. This is exactly where I'm meant to be."

And it was.

Stuck in a Lifetime Movie- Part 5

America's Favorite 50's family, The Nelsons

It was 1938 when, at 13, Tex decided to put an end to the beatings, shouting and threats. He said that he and little brother Willie were living in the orphanage for the second time when Tex smarted off, said the wrong thing and was duly punished. Severely. That night, when everyone was asleep, he and 10 yr old Willie ran away from that orphanage, and from his father for good. he said he didn't want to take his little brother but Willie begged him to and Tex didn't have the heart to leave him behind to face the music alone. Thus began Grampy's "Hobo Days" which is a story for another time.

St. Agnes Orphanage in the 1930's

Coming from a wholesome, Ozzie and Harriet type of upbringing myself, I try to imagine a chilhood like his.  How did Grampy and Willie endure? (and hopefully you've read my previous four blogs  so you know what I'm talking about) How do all the children in the world, past and present, withstand such anger and abuse from the one person in the world who should have nothing but love for them? It's no wonder Tex has never been able to wrap his mind around the concept of a loving God; one we refer to as "Father".

Mike says that the Grampy-apple didn't fall as far from the Arthur, Sr. tree as one would hope. As a father himself, Tex  was also a stern  disciplinarian and firmly believed a wide leather belt on the backside was the answer to any child's deviance from the straight and narrow, no matter how slight.  And he has always been quick-tempered and foul-mouthed.  But he was not an alcoholic and he worked hard to provide for his family and give them some semblance of stability. Let's say Tex was several notches better than his old man. Grampy's father died many, many years ago but to this day Tex is still simmers with an inside anger, and goes off on an unwarranted rant more often than anyone I've ever known.  Nevertheless, sometimes we get a glimpse through his gruff exterior into the kernel of goodness that lies within. Even if he has a difficult time expressing it, he loves us and we know it. We worry about him. Is he using his oxygen at night? He looks like he's losing weight—is he eating enough? He's more and more forgetful, will he leave the stove on?  Is he still threatening his neighbor with a shotgun? Will he get punched in the nose some day for loudly using the "N" word when describing the black family in the next aisle over while standing in line at Wal Mart?

Grampy is creeping up on 90 years old. Let's face it, he's mighty close to shuffling off his mortal coil. We have shared the love of Jesus and His redemptive power with Grampy repeatedly over the years—trying in love to explain the way to salvation. Mike and I recently made a pact to double up our prayer efforts for his dad. We know our children and eight grandchildren remember him faithfully in their prayers so surely the heart of God cannot resist. We aren't able see the future but we cherish every day with Tex in the present. We don't know what will reach the old man's heart, but we do know that Grampy has an all-powerful Father in heaven who loves him unconditionally. Our united prayer is that Grampy will meet God with confidence and open arms on that day in the not so distant future when he's called home.

Stuck in a Lifetime Movie - part 4

When Arthur Sr. absconded with the boys he moved them way out west to Phoenix, Az. Mind you there were no missing children photos on the milk cartons back then. It was 1933 and there were no " Amber Alerts" sent out when they left. Children were no more than parental-owned chattel. They wouldn't have been reported as missing anyway. Who would have reported it? Not Edna, who would have been living in fear that her husband might come back and kill her.

Orange grove and irrigation ditch

In Phoenix, Arthur Sr. got a a job shearing sheet metal. Grampy is quick to say here that Arthur Sr. was ONLY a shearer of sheet metal. He could NOT read blueprints and work the sheet metal into usable parts. Not like Grampy could after he became an adult—and did for 30 years. Arthur, Sr. was able to find dirt cheap lodgings for him and the boys in a tiny house in an orange grove on the outskirts of town.  In exchange for his low rent, the farmer who owned the fields required him to irrigate the orchard by flooding it with water from a canal several times a week. Easy Peasy, right? Unfortunately the demon of alcoholism does not let go simply because you've changed your address—he followed Arthur, Sr. to Arizona where the man spent his afterhours in sleezy bars and rarely came home before bedtime.

Tex was only 8 and little Willie was 5 but they were both aware that the prospect of homelessness was ever-looming, so every day after school they would trudge over to the irrigation canal and with all their combined might and main, those two boys would attempt to open the flood gates and water the trees.  Tex said at first that they couldn't do it—they simply weren't strong enough. They knew, however, that they desperately needed to get this done. They knew they were in for a beating from their dad if the fields didn't get watered and the fact that the were just two small skinny, helpless boys would not prevent their backsides from a tanning—not from a mean drunk with a leather belt itching to be used.

After several failed attempts, and several lashings with the belt, either they developed enough strength to open the canal gate or a kind-hearted angel took pity on them and helped, for they did eventually succeed, and it became their regular after-school chore.

They lived like this in Arizona for a good long time. Being the oldest, Grampy learned to cook for him and his little brother. Well, he learned to open a can and heat it on the stove anyway. One morning their dad decided to make himself some corned beef hash and eggs for breakfast. Grampy says his dad was half blind with a hangover but stumbled into the kitchen and opened the cupboard, reaching for a can of Hash. Unfortunately he'd gone to the store the day before in the same condition and had brought home several cans of “Dash” instead of “Hash”. We Baby Boomers remember that “Dash” used to be a popular canned dog food. Tex and Willie just watched him open the can, plop in into the frying pan and fry that dog food up. After he considered it done, their dad cracked open a few eggs on top as well. Willie started to say something to his dad....Tex silently shushed him. They both watched in delight as their dad took a plateful of Dash and Eggs to the table and commenced to eat it. “Come on boys, have some breakfast!” he told them, chomping his breakfast. “Um noo....we're not hungry” they said. “Dad”, Tex begain as he motioned Willie out the back door. Then (quickly over his shoulder as they dashed out the door) “YOU'RE EATING DOG FOOD!” They ran lickety split to the end of the orange grove, laughing hysterically all the way. Their dad was too sick and too mortified to persue them....this time.

Yum Yum DASH!

Sometimes their dad would decide to leave the boys so he could go off on a jaunt to who-knows-where, either on his own or with a new girlfriend or wife. (he married three or four more times before he died. Grampy doesn't remember the exact count) Most of the time he schlepped them back to Massachusets and left them with his sister. Tex described her as one notch better than her demon-posessed brother. One time Arthur, Sr. left them for several months in a local Catholic orphanage. Tex won't talk about it except to say he left that place with no love for the Catholic church, let alone the abusive nuns who ran the place. He has harbored that low opinion of all things Catholic ever since, and over the years has broadened his loathing to every other Christian religion as well. Now I grew up surrounded by nuns in the Catholic schools I went to, (I was in for 12 years and I'm still out on parole) and in their defense I must say that the majority of them were loving, caring and encouraging women and I only met one who rapped my knuckles with a ruler. But she was horribly senile and was put out to pasture the year after I graduated so I don't count her.

Stuck in a Lifetime Movie - part 3

Although I know better, every bone in my body wants to believe this Lifetime movie has a happy ending. After all, these two little boys, bereft of their mother deserve a happy ending. And what about Edna?

Downtown

After her husband left, she was eventually evicted from the house, abandoned by the father of her baby, and living on the streets. She was homeless, cold and fending for herself, depending on the kindness of strangers for food. Just before the baby was born she was walking downtown, hungry and exhausted, and fainted right there on the pavement. A kindly negro man was passing by named George Piper. After a brief hesitation, he picked her up and took her home with him.  He was a single working man with a good heart and he called the neighborhood midwife to come take care of her.  Edna was soon delivered of a surprisingly healthy baby boy, and in honor of the man who rescued her, she named him George. After the baby came, the older George took a shine to this beautiful white woman and Edna stayed on with him, keeping his house and before too long sharing his bed. Although they never married, I think she must have ended up falling in love with George. I like to think so. Grampy said she called George "pet". Surely you are in love with a fella that you nickname "Pet". He treated her with kindness and that was more than she'd ever had. More children followed and it would be years and years before they were to meet their half brothers, Arthur and Willie.

She named the baby George.

Grampy doesn't remember how or when his mother passed away. he insists she was a woman of loose morals to the end. We must remember that after his dad moved him out west, he never again grew up with his mother in his life, and only knew what his father told him about her. He didn't see her again till well after he became an adult, and then rarely. I sincerely doubt Arthur, Sr. would have had anything nice to say about Edna. And Grampy is old school. He hails from a time when a man could be described as a womanizer and a pillar of society in the same sentence. No one expected a man to be faithful to his wife...a "slip" now and then was slyly winked at and quickly overlooked. The women they were unfaithful with, well...shame on them, and even one indiscretion left them with a loose and ruined reputation in an unforgiving era of society.

Such were the times that Grampy grew up in.

(stay tuned for part 4)

Stuck in a Lifetime Move - part 2

1920s era house by the railroad

In bits and pieces, over the next couple of years, I learned more about Edna. She was a little bit of a thing; a beautiful, hard working woman who, at a very young age, made the unfortunate mistake of marrying Tex's father.  The family consisted of Grampy's dad, Arthur Victor Sr. and Edna along with their two son; Arthur Victor Jr. ( that was Grampy--he wasnt called Tex back then) and little brother Willie. In 1932, during The Great Depression, Arthur Jr. Was 7 years old, Willie was 4, and they were living in a ramshackle old house in Methesda, Mass., right next to the railroad tracks. Edna's  husband, Tex's father, was a drunk who couldnt hold down a job any longer than a one-armed farmer can hold down a greased pig. Times were tough and even though necessities were few—they were still hard to come by.  The coal train rode through town and right past their house. Grampy remembers his mother would run out and wait by the tracks for it. A kind hearted R.R. man would shovel a bit of the coal off the coal cars as they passed, and as it fell onto the dirt by the track she would run after it, gathering it in her apron and then take it home to heat the house on those cold winter days.

According to Tex, his father was a professional no-account bastard, who hung out at the local bar and came home drunk most every night. He had a foul mouth, a mean temper, and a good left hook. Drunken bar brawls were his forté. He oftentimes came home and beat his wife and his boys in the leftovers of his drunken haze. And to add insult to injury, he carelessly slept around with no remorse of conscious.

Lifetime Movie circa 1930

This is beginning to sound like a Made For TV Lifetime movie. The kind where we always hope for, and usually get, a happy ending.  But real life people don't have scripts and more often than not our lives neither end up happy nor sad-—they just end.

In those days divorces were scarce and women were taught to shut up and " take it". So for years, with no parents or other family members to support her, Edna "took it". She put up with the beatings, the poverty, the mental abuse and the downright meanness. She eventually found comfort, love and solace in the arms of another man. And maybe more than one. As usually happens in any proper Lifetime movie, she got pregnant. When Arthur Sr. found out he beat her solid then packed the 2 boys up, lock, stock and barrel,  left no forwarding address and took off...never looking back. Edna was finally free but at the cost of losing her children. As for Tex and his little brother Willie, their problems had just begun.

(stay tuned for part 3)