I have prepared no essay or memoir today. The reason will be apparent after you hear my story of our activities this morning. To that end I will present a little drama.
Scene one:
Husband, sitting in front of wall heater in family room, speaks .
“Look at this! I’m going to have to take this thing apart. It’s full of hair and dirt!”
Wife looks but does not reply.
Husband: “I told you this heater was a piece of s---t. Look how the screws are set into the inner frame. There’s not one set in straight.”
Wife looks but does not reply.
Husband dismantles the heater, which is indeed full of cat hairs and dust. In taking out the screws husband drops one which falls down behind the wall paneling and cannot be retrieved.
Husband: “Go out to the tool room and find one that matches the others. Be sure it will fit.”
Wife goes but does not reply.
Wife returns,
Husband, looking at the screw: “ You brought a wood screw. These are metal screws. See if you can find a metal one. Make sure it fits.”
Wife goes back out and returns with screw that will fit.
Scene two:
Husband : “Well, I got it cleaned out. Let’s put the @#%#@ thing together again.”
Husband tries to fit the heating element into the wall bracket, has trouble and drops it onto the floor.
Husband: “How much did we pay for this heater anyway?”
Wife: “Four hundred dollars.”
Husband: “ We got gypped. It’s not worth it. Who did we buy it from anyway?”
Wife: “I’ll have to look it up. Do you need to know now?”
Husband: “Of course I don’t need to know now. “
Wife: “Then why did you ask?”
And so it went for another hour or so. We finally got the thing back together, and that is why I have nothing written for today's blog.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
The time my father went to prison
Well, it wasn't prison, exactly. It was a little jail down in the basement of the courthouse. It consisted of two small cells and a little bathroom. If a prisoner wanted to go to the bathroom, he had to summon the guard, who let him out and locked him back in when he was done. The sheriff's wife brought in three meals a day, and the beds weren't bad. Things could have been worse.
My father was incarcerated for killing a deer. Times were hard, deer were plentiful and many a man supplemented his food supply with an illegally killed buck. It was illegal because there was a law which prohibited killing a deer except during deer season, between November 10 and November 30. But the deer were a nuisance, eating the corn crop and trampling around in the potato patch and who could blame a man for protecting his crops?
As a little background history, the law had been in effect only about five years. The game warden knew how it was, and looked the other way if he was forced by circumstances to acknowledge that a deer had been killed. It was rumored that he himself was partial to venison, and didn't look askance on the gift of a chunk of deer meat once in awhile.
Then a new game warden roared into town, and all was changed. First he got old Gus Martin, caught carrying a deer out of the woods. The deer was all dressed out and ready to cut into portions. Into the bed of the warden's truck it went, and Gus was given a choice. Pay the hundred dollar fine, or go to the pokey. Gus paid. Then old Mr. Collins was nabbed, and not having any money for the fine, off he went to jail. He pled guilty, and was given a sentence of ten days, but the poor old man was so sick that they took him back home.
My father was of sterner stuff. When the game warden came upon him skinning out a deer, he was polite but held his ground. The warden sneaked up on him and accosted him with a demand to hand over his gun.
"Can't do that," said my father. "My gun's back at the house. I shot the deer from the back door. This is my property and the deer was in the corn field. I had to kill it. It was ruining the crop."
"Are you saying you are refusing to pay the fine? You pay a hundred dollars and turn over the deer. It's the only sensible thing to do. Then we forget all about it. It will never go on your record."
Such chiccanery went against the grain in more ways than one. My father dug in his heels and opted for the hard road.
"Let me tell my wife, and get some clean clothes." he said. "The hired hand will take care of the stock. You can put me in jail if you want to. I demand a triaL"
The game warden was in a hard place. He wanted the hundred dollars and he definitely did not want a trial. Most of the jury would be deer hunters themselves, and would let my father off. Besides, it was expensive to hold a trial, and it would further run up the bill if they had to keep someone in jail, eating free meals and laying around reading books and magazines. But he had no choice. Off they went to tell my mother and take the thirty mile trip up to the county seat. The deer was left in the woods and I suppose some neighbor came and got it.
It caused quite a stir. My aunt, who lived not far from the jail, heard about it by way of a phone call from my Uncle Juel, and rushed over with a tin of homemade soup and the wherewithal to bail him out. She cried, pledged her help, and they had a nice visit together. My father announced his satisfaction with the accommodations and said he and his cellmate were getting along fine.
"This is just like home," he announced. "the food is great and i have a couple of good magazines, and I've learned a couple of card games. I'll stay here. You could call old Bob LaFollette for me, though. I'm going to trial and he'll represent me."
Bob LaFollette was a former member of the Legislature and a great friend of my grandpa. He accepted the case pro bono and wasted no time. He had a plan and thought the prospects of an acquittal were good.
Trial was set in a speedy fashion, as it cost money to keep a man in jail. It cost money to have a trial, too, and the parties involved in the mattef were all aware of that. So the trial would commence in just a couple of days.
Friends and relatives flocked to see the big event. My sister and I went up with a neighbor, wearing our new flowered dresses with the cape sleeves. My mother didn't go, but my Aunt Emma, she of the soft heart, came. My sister and my Aunt Emma both cried. I thought it was a great adventure.
This took place in the darkest days of the depression, around 1936 or so, and the courtroom was a shabby, dusty room with benches for the spectators. My father was sitting in a chair next to the judge's bench, wearing a clean pair of overalls and a white shirt. I remember that there was a young district attorney, wearing a cheap suit. The judge looked around and then tapped his pencil on his desk and looked at the wall clock and sighed. My father's attorney was nowhere in sight. "Well, Mr. Pettis, are you representing yourself or what? Where is your counsellor?"
At that moment, there was a bustle at the door, and old Bob LaFollette hustled in. He was rumpled and perspiring, and his bushy hair stood up all over his head. "Sorry, your honor," he wheezed. "We are ready to proceed."
No time was wasted. "How does your client plead?" The judge asked the attorney.
"Not guilty, on account of extenuating circumstances, your honor." "What extenuating circumstances?"
"The deer was threatening my client's corn crop. Not to mention the garden and the potato field. He did the only thing he could do, your honor. He shot it and freely admits to the fact."
"What happened to the deer?" this was a valid question and I had been wondering about it myself. "We have no idea, your honor," answered old Bob, and he smiled at the jury.
Clearly, my father had broken the law. It was in May or June, a far cry from November. But Bob LaFollette and my father relied on the jury to be sympathetic. They found him guilty.
The rest of the story is anticlimactic. The judge offered my father the chance to pay the fine and he refused. He declared himself ready to enjoy ten days of good food and rest. This put the judge in a quandary. He really had spent enough money already and didn't fancy feeding and lodging a man who represented no threat to anyone. Old Bob LaFollette was equal to the occasion. Stepping up to the banch, he made a suggestion. The judge's eyes lit up and he grinned a broad grin.
"Mr. Pettis, approach the bench so that I may pronounce sentence," he intoned. "You have been found guilty. For the record, I sentence you to ten days in our jail. However, in view of the circumstances, I am suspending sentence. You are free to go." He went out of the room, slamming the door behind him. My father, now a free man, had no choice but to go on home.
This wasn't the only time my father was arrested. But that is another story.
My father was incarcerated for killing a deer. Times were hard, deer were plentiful and many a man supplemented his food supply with an illegally killed buck. It was illegal because there was a law which prohibited killing a deer except during deer season, between November 10 and November 30. But the deer were a nuisance, eating the corn crop and trampling around in the potato patch and who could blame a man for protecting his crops?
As a little background history, the law had been in effect only about five years. The game warden knew how it was, and looked the other way if he was forced by circumstances to acknowledge that a deer had been killed. It was rumored that he himself was partial to venison, and didn't look askance on the gift of a chunk of deer meat once in awhile.
Then a new game warden roared into town, and all was changed. First he got old Gus Martin, caught carrying a deer out of the woods. The deer was all dressed out and ready to cut into portions. Into the bed of the warden's truck it went, and Gus was given a choice. Pay the hundred dollar fine, or go to the pokey. Gus paid. Then old Mr. Collins was nabbed, and not having any money for the fine, off he went to jail. He pled guilty, and was given a sentence of ten days, but the poor old man was so sick that they took him back home.
My father was of sterner stuff. When the game warden came upon him skinning out a deer, he was polite but held his ground. The warden sneaked up on him and accosted him with a demand to hand over his gun.
"Can't do that," said my father. "My gun's back at the house. I shot the deer from the back door. This is my property and the deer was in the corn field. I had to kill it. It was ruining the crop."
"Are you saying you are refusing to pay the fine? You pay a hundred dollars and turn over the deer. It's the only sensible thing to do. Then we forget all about it. It will never go on your record."
Such chiccanery went against the grain in more ways than one. My father dug in his heels and opted for the hard road.
"Let me tell my wife, and get some clean clothes." he said. "The hired hand will take care of the stock. You can put me in jail if you want to. I demand a triaL"
The game warden was in a hard place. He wanted the hundred dollars and he definitely did not want a trial. Most of the jury would be deer hunters themselves, and would let my father off. Besides, it was expensive to hold a trial, and it would further run up the bill if they had to keep someone in jail, eating free meals and laying around reading books and magazines. But he had no choice. Off they went to tell my mother and take the thirty mile trip up to the county seat. The deer was left in the woods and I suppose some neighbor came and got it.
It caused quite a stir. My aunt, who lived not far from the jail, heard about it by way of a phone call from my Uncle Juel, and rushed over with a tin of homemade soup and the wherewithal to bail him out. She cried, pledged her help, and they had a nice visit together. My father announced his satisfaction with the accommodations and said he and his cellmate were getting along fine.
"This is just like home," he announced. "the food is great and i have a couple of good magazines, and I've learned a couple of card games. I'll stay here. You could call old Bob LaFollette for me, though. I'm going to trial and he'll represent me."
Bob LaFollette was a former member of the Legislature and a great friend of my grandpa. He accepted the case pro bono and wasted no time. He had a plan and thought the prospects of an acquittal were good.
Trial was set in a speedy fashion, as it cost money to keep a man in jail. It cost money to have a trial, too, and the parties involved in the mattef were all aware of that. So the trial would commence in just a couple of days.
Friends and relatives flocked to see the big event. My sister and I went up with a neighbor, wearing our new flowered dresses with the cape sleeves. My mother didn't go, but my Aunt Emma, she of the soft heart, came. My sister and my Aunt Emma both cried. I thought it was a great adventure.
This took place in the darkest days of the depression, around 1936 or so, and the courtroom was a shabby, dusty room with benches for the spectators. My father was sitting in a chair next to the judge's bench, wearing a clean pair of overalls and a white shirt. I remember that there was a young district attorney, wearing a cheap suit. The judge looked around and then tapped his pencil on his desk and looked at the wall clock and sighed. My father's attorney was nowhere in sight. "Well, Mr. Pettis, are you representing yourself or what? Where is your counsellor?"
At that moment, there was a bustle at the door, and old Bob LaFollette hustled in. He was rumpled and perspiring, and his bushy hair stood up all over his head. "Sorry, your honor," he wheezed. "We are ready to proceed."
No time was wasted. "How does your client plead?" The judge asked the attorney.
"Not guilty, on account of extenuating circumstances, your honor." "What extenuating circumstances?"
"The deer was threatening my client's corn crop. Not to mention the garden and the potato field. He did the only thing he could do, your honor. He shot it and freely admits to the fact."
"What happened to the deer?" this was a valid question and I had been wondering about it myself. "We have no idea, your honor," answered old Bob, and he smiled at the jury.
Clearly, my father had broken the law. It was in May or June, a far cry from November. But Bob LaFollette and my father relied on the jury to be sympathetic. They found him guilty.
The rest of the story is anticlimactic. The judge offered my father the chance to pay the fine and he refused. He declared himself ready to enjoy ten days of good food and rest. This put the judge in a quandary. He really had spent enough money already and didn't fancy feeding and lodging a man who represented no threat to anyone. Old Bob LaFollette was equal to the occasion. Stepping up to the banch, he made a suggestion. The judge's eyes lit up and he grinned a broad grin.
"Mr. Pettis, approach the bench so that I may pronounce sentence," he intoned. "You have been found guilty. For the record, I sentence you to ten days in our jail. However, in view of the circumstances, I am suspending sentence. You are free to go." He went out of the room, slamming the door behind him. My father, now a free man, had no choice but to go on home.
This wasn't the only time my father was arrested. But that is another story.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Lost in the clothes hamper
I used to write stories for my grandson and send them to him in the form of a letter. I dug this one up when going through some old papers, and thought it would make a good blog.
Dear Grandson,
I sat down to write a story, and as I stared helplessly at my typewriter, and it stared back at me, I realized that I hadn't seen those little pretend people all day. I hadn't seen them yesterday, either. Where were they? I looked under the bed and under the sofa and chairs, but no one was there. I got worried. I even went out into the cold night and looked under the bushes and went up and down the rows of rose bushes, calling out to them in a loud voice. "Where are you, little people?" No answer. A man was walking his dog and looked at me very strangely, but I didn't care. All I could think of was how cold it was, and how those poor little people were lost out there.
But maybe they were inside and hiding from me. I went back in. I looked everywhere. I began to get angry. "You come out this very minute. Stop fooling around!" I yelled. I made Grandpa look too. Then I sat down on the edge of the bed and thought very hard. I thought so hard that my hair stood on end. My ears twitched. My nose wiggled. And I remembered something! "Oh, oh" I said to myself. "You changed the sheets and pillowcases on this bed yesterday. Then you threw everything into the clothes hamper. Look in there."
I went into the bathroom and carefully lifted the lid on the hamper. A dirty face cloth flew out and landed on my head. A handkerchief flew out and landed on the floor. Out came a towel and a pair of socks. Those little people were in there and they were so angry they were throwing everything out. "Stop, stop," I said. "How did you get in there?" At first they were so angry they talked in little people talk. "'grpplmn! Admtffr! Gillpogner!" I couldn't understand a word they said But then they let me help them out and onto my bed. "We were in the bed when you yanked off the sheets and blankets," they said. "You threw all of us into the hamper. We are so hungry we could eat a dirty sock!" They looked at me for a minute, and then I knew what to do. I went to the kitchen and brought some cookies and an apple. They gobbled the cookies and apple down, and then, because they were so tired, they curled up on my bed and fell asleep. Next time I change the sheets I will look very carefully before I put them in the hamper. I looked again at the little people sleeping on my bed. Each one had a big smile on its face.
Dear Grandson,
I sat down to write a story, and as I stared helplessly at my typewriter, and it stared back at me, I realized that I hadn't seen those little pretend people all day. I hadn't seen them yesterday, either. Where were they? I looked under the bed and under the sofa and chairs, but no one was there. I got worried. I even went out into the cold night and looked under the bushes and went up and down the rows of rose bushes, calling out to them in a loud voice. "Where are you, little people?" No answer. A man was walking his dog and looked at me very strangely, but I didn't care. All I could think of was how cold it was, and how those poor little people were lost out there.
But maybe they were inside and hiding from me. I went back in. I looked everywhere. I began to get angry. "You come out this very minute. Stop fooling around!" I yelled. I made Grandpa look too. Then I sat down on the edge of the bed and thought very hard. I thought so hard that my hair stood on end. My ears twitched. My nose wiggled. And I remembered something! "Oh, oh" I said to myself. "You changed the sheets and pillowcases on this bed yesterday. Then you threw everything into the clothes hamper. Look in there."
I went into the bathroom and carefully lifted the lid on the hamper. A dirty face cloth flew out and landed on my head. A handkerchief flew out and landed on the floor. Out came a towel and a pair of socks. Those little people were in there and they were so angry they were throwing everything out. "Stop, stop," I said. "How did you get in there?" At first they were so angry they talked in little people talk. "'grpplmn! Admtffr! Gillpogner!" I couldn't understand a word they said But then they let me help them out and onto my bed. "We were in the bed when you yanked off the sheets and blankets," they said. "You threw all of us into the hamper. We are so hungry we could eat a dirty sock!" They looked at me for a minute, and then I knew what to do. I went to the kitchen and brought some cookies and an apple. They gobbled the cookies and apple down, and then, because they were so tired, they curled up on my bed and fell asleep. Next time I change the sheets I will look very carefully before I put them in the hamper. I looked again at the little people sleeping on my bed. Each one had a big smile on its face.
Friday, June 12, 2009
The good and the bad
The last couple of days have been full of little events, some good and some bad. Yesterday was notable for the fact that I left my husband to prepare dinner, and he burned it to a crisp. I had gone to work on my computer and i was alerted to a problem by the beeping of the smoke alarm. This is hardly a new event in my house, but when the din was enlarged by a series of dismayed shrieks from my husband, I knew we were in trouble. A hurried scurry into the kitchen revealed that the endire skillet of chicken and vegetables had been reduced to charred ruins. i had prepared rice earlier so we had rice for dinner. My husband is a chronic multitasker and he had gone off to do laundry while the food was cooking. When will I ever learn?
this morning was notable by the sky diving event performed by George G. W. Bush. He looked pretty good coming down but when he limped away, I could see that age has taken its toll. Barbara, however, looked great.
We spent most of the rest of the day listening to a book tape: "My Cousin Rachel." I had read it a long time ago, but it was fun to just relax and enjoy it once again.
One final event to round out the day - my $19.95 hearing aid, advertised over and over again on TV, came with the afternoon mail. Actually, it cost $50.00 when all was done, as i got the battery charger as well. It was a good thing that I did, as the battery ran down after only thirty minutes. It is not particularly bell-toned, and i found that it irritated my ear, but my husband had been urging me to order it.
Well, I am feeling a little better each day, and hope to be back to my normal self soon. Bye, all. Keep in touch.
this morning was notable by the sky diving event performed by George G. W. Bush. He looked pretty good coming down but when he limped away, I could see that age has taken its toll. Barbara, however, looked great.
We spent most of the rest of the day listening to a book tape: "My Cousin Rachel." I had read it a long time ago, but it was fun to just relax and enjoy it once again.
One final event to round out the day - my $19.95 hearing aid, advertised over and over again on TV, came with the afternoon mail. Actually, it cost $50.00 when all was done, as i got the battery charger as well. It was a good thing that I did, as the battery ran down after only thirty minutes. It is not particularly bell-toned, and i found that it irritated my ear, but my husband had been urging me to order it.
Well, I am feeling a little better each day, and hope to be back to my normal self soon. Bye, all. Keep in touch.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
This and that
@!!###@@!!! I am back on my walker again. That's what I get for bragging about using my cane. No, I didn't stumble or fall - I just can't walk well. One leg keeps buckling under me. The walker helps, though.
We got busy today and sawed out two boards to use in the bathroom for baseboards, and gave them couple coats of paint and tomorrow we will glue them in place, then all we have to do is put a line of grout down in front of the tub, in case water gets spilled. Things are moving along.
We had a little red fox in our driveway yesterday. He had been at the neighbors house, eating out of the cat dish on the deck, and then came over to us. He didn't come in, though, but went on down to the house next to us. He looked like a baby to us, maybe his mother has decided to wean him.
We had soup and toasted cheese sandwiches for dinner, my favorite food. Now we are going to listen to a book tape in front of the wood stove. Kaya keeps going in there and flopping down in front of it, so we'll give her a treat.
Our next-door neighbors are grandparents now - their first grandchild. We got the news from Doris. A little girl.
Well, goodnight all. Keep in touch.
We got busy today and sawed out two boards to use in the bathroom for baseboards, and gave them couple coats of paint and tomorrow we will glue them in place, then all we have to do is put a line of grout down in front of the tub, in case water gets spilled. Things are moving along.
We had a little red fox in our driveway yesterday. He had been at the neighbors house, eating out of the cat dish on the deck, and then came over to us. He didn't come in, though, but went on down to the house next to us. He looked like a baby to us, maybe his mother has decided to wean him.
We had soup and toasted cheese sandwiches for dinner, my favorite food. Now we are going to listen to a book tape in front of the wood stove. Kaya keeps going in there and flopping down in front of it, so we'll give her a treat.
Our next-door neighbors are grandparents now - their first grandchild. We got the news from Doris. A little girl.
Well, goodnight all. Keep in touch.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
The Big Race
What a pleasant day! We watched the Belmont races most of the day, of course hoping that Mine the Bird would win, and disappointed when he only came in third. It was fun, though, and restful, as I reclined on the sofa most of the time when I watched. I try to watch all of the big races, and don't usually forget. My neighbor watches, too, and makes sure I remember.
We chanced upon a program featuring the big bands of the thirties and forties, and had fun watching for a couple of hours. It is after ten now, and my bed is calling me. I have it all fixed up with warm blankets and a radio at hand so I can listen to Coast to Coast until I fall asleep.
I am going to try to write every night, as in a journal, to keep a kind of history of my life from now on. Let's see how well I keep my resolve! Bye.
We chanced upon a program featuring the big bands of the thirties and forties, and had fun watching for a couple of hours. It is after ten now, and my bed is calling me. I have it all fixed up with warm blankets and a radio at hand so I can listen to Coast to Coast until I fall asleep.
I am going to try to write every night, as in a journal, to keep a kind of history of my life from now on. Let's see how well I keep my resolve! Bye.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Getting better
Hooray! I must be getting better! I swiffered the floors, did laundry and cooked dinner today. That's progress. I hate to be laid up and have to talk my husband into doing these tasks, because he makes such a fuss, wanting me to appreciate how put upon he is. The fact that i do them every day without even thinking about it doesn't count. He wants praise and recognition.
It will be interesting to follow my progress down through the years. I wonder if my readers will recognize approaching dementia when it comes, or if I will be able to carry on right to the end? Physical disability I can handle, but mental disability is something else.
I will admit that I made a mistake in my checking account, putting down a deposit as being $250. rather that $450. It was a pleasant surprise to find that I had more money than I thought. I can live with that. Well, this will be a short blog - take care. Goodnight to all.
It will be interesting to follow my progress down through the years. I wonder if my readers will recognize approaching dementia when it comes, or if I will be able to carry on right to the end? Physical disability I can handle, but mental disability is something else.
I will admit that I made a mistake in my checking account, putting down a deposit as being $250. rather that $450. It was a pleasant surprise to find that I had more money than I thought. I can live with that. Well, this will be a short blog - take care. Goodnight to all.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Good news and bad
First, the good news. We finally got the bathroom floor finished. My husband put down a sheet of plywood, glued a piece of llinoleum down on top, and eased the toilet bowl down onto a new wax ring. it looks very elegant and am I ever glad that job is finished.
Now, the bad news. The very next day, after we did the floor, I fell down the step from the living room into the family room, and spent the next three or four days in bed while I recovered. I graduated to a wheel chair, then a walker, and now I am shuffling around with a cane. Thank goodness i can get around now, as my husband was getting tired of having to go back and forth fetching things for me. Since he is a dedicated multi-tasker, sometimes it took him quite a while to get back to me. I really have resolved to be more careful in future.
Also, we signed the papers to modify our mortgage terms, lowering the interest rate. I figured, why not? It only took our signatures and the deed was done.
Now, we hope that all will go serenely for awhile. The roses are in full bloom and the hydrangeas are showing color, and though we don't garden like we used to, it looks pretty nevertheless. So bye for now, and take care. I hope to hear from you.
Now, the bad news. The very next day, after we did the floor, I fell down the step from the living room into the family room, and spent the next three or four days in bed while I recovered. I graduated to a wheel chair, then a walker, and now I am shuffling around with a cane. Thank goodness i can get around now, as my husband was getting tired of having to go back and forth fetching things for me. Since he is a dedicated multi-tasker, sometimes it took him quite a while to get back to me. I really have resolved to be more careful in future.
Also, we signed the papers to modify our mortgage terms, lowering the interest rate. I figured, why not? It only took our signatures and the deed was done.
Now, we hope that all will go serenely for awhile. The roses are in full bloom and the hydrangeas are showing color, and though we don't garden like we used to, it looks pretty nevertheless. So bye for now, and take care. I hope to hear from you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
