Last week I wrote the story of our trip, seeing the Grandies in Kendallville and picking up our new trailer. I had been working on that story all week, which explains why it is so long, and after reading it to Mike he thought you might like to know a little more about his trailer.
LOL! Men! It’s gotta be a guy thing.
So this trailer is 24 foot long, has 3,500 pound axils, brakes on both axils, LED lights everywhere — in and out — and screwless sides. It’s really a car trailer, not just a cargo trailer, so it has a ramp door and beaver tail.
Someday, if my dreams come true, this will be the trailer that will hold my craft things as we follow the fair and festival circuits during the summer. We will set up a little tent with my suncatchers, homemade dishrags and scrubbies and cat rugs, stickers, my photos and whatever else I get into making. I’ll even set up my glass equipment. If you give demonstrations, people will stand and watch and hopefully buy something.
Now, if I can get Mike into making birdhouses, that would give him something to do other than walking around eating fair food and visiting with the neighbors.
“No,” he tells me. “I am not interested in making birdhouses.”
Then maybe I can get him to make frames for my photos.
<<<<<>>>>>
I got to spend time with my Heart once this past week and twice the week before!
Andrew was here for about an hour and a half one afternoon. His Maw-maw had a doctor’s appointment and Mike and I kept him until Kevin got off work and picked him up. I’ll tell you what. That little guy talked a hundred miles an hour and I don’t think he was quiet for more than a minute the whole time he was here! And most of the time I can understand him too.
“Things have certainly changed,” I told Mike. “Remember when Andrew wouldn’t talk at all?” But I always knew he could talk, he just didn’t need to.
“Pictures, Peg. Where’s the pictures?” you ask.
Boy, are you guys spoiled! I didn’t take any pictures of Andrew on that particular visit.
Speaking of pictures…
Long about the time I got my new lens for my new camera, I didn’t need the small Canon anymore, the one I call Andrew’s camera. So I wasn’t keeping very close track of where it was.
A couple of weeks after that, Andrew came to visit and wanted to use his camera. I looked everyplace I thought it might be but I couldn’t find it. “I’ll look for it later,” I told him, then promptly forgot until the next time he came to visit and wanted to use it. Again I looked in the places I thought I may have left it and couldn’t find it.
“I’m sorry, Andrew. I don’t know where it is,” I told him. Then a day or so later I did look in all the cabinets and closets and I still couldn’t find it. I looked and looked then I went back and looked in all the same place at least twice more. But no matter how many times I looked, it still wasn’t there. I even tossed the Jeep a couple of times thinking I may have left it in there.
That sounds crazy doesn’t it? To keep looking in the same place several times and expect something different to be there? But checking and rechecking has worked for me lots of times and it worked for me again just today.
Let me tell about it.
Yesterday I decided I wanted to make another batch of Butt Snuffers and I went looking for my Plaster Of Paris.
In our old RV it lived under the kitchen sink, so naturally that’s where I went, but it wasn’t there.
Maybe I put it under the bathroom sink, I thought. I opened the cabinet under the bathroom sink and it wasn’t there either. There just aren’t a lot of places where I would put something like that but maybe I put it in the under-the-bed storage during our move. I lifted the bed, with it’s hydraulic assist, and did a quick scan. Nope, not there. I turned around and looked at all the cabinets in the bedroom but I just know I wouldn’t have put it in with any of our clothes or with the printer stuff either. I went back to the cabinet under the kitchen sink and this time I moved everything around. Nope. It still wasn’t there. I made that circuit at least one more time then I started checking other cabinets in the RV.
There’s no way I would have put it in with the canned goods, I thought, but I checked anyway. Nope, not there.
Then I gave up for the night.
Today I started looking again and where did I start? Yeah, the kitchen sink. This time I pulled everything out of the cabinet and even felt the bag full of bags, but it wasn’t there. I checked under the bathroom sink, this time squatting down to get a really good look. But I didn’t expect it to be there and it wasn’t. I looked under the bed again, moving stuff around this time, and in the bottom of the clothes closet and in the cabinet with the printer supplies and since I didn’t check the cabinet with the pots and pans yesterday, I checked them today. Not there. I know I didn’t put it under the bench seats, but I looked anyway. Nope. It wasn’t there either.
I stood there racking my brain, trying to remember what I did with it when we changed RV’s. In my mind’s eye I could see us just picking up a couple of baskets of things and stuffing them in a bay at the very end of our move. Even though I took the stuff out when we got home, maybe I left the Plaster Of Paris in there. I opened the bay door and took a good look, but nope, not there either.
It’s got to be here!
I went back in the RV and opened the cabinet under the kitchen sink, but closed it again almost right away. I know it’s not in there. I went to the bedroom and took a better look at the stuff stowed under the bed, pulling stuff out and moving things around. Nope! And this time I was really sure it wasn’t under there. I went back to the bathroom cabinet and decided to pull everything out and there on the bottom shelf, behind the 409 and Windex, I found it. I knew there was something there when I looked before but I was looking for a red box and here it was blue!
So, back to my story. I had no idea where Andrew’s camera could be and maybe I lost it somewhere, but I gave up looking and he gave up asking.
When we changed RV’s I found it. It was in the key cabinet above the door. I don’t know why I put it there, but there it was.
When Kevin brought Andrew he brought the stroller and Andrew’s rain boots (since it was wet outside) so we could go for a walk and I made sure Andrew’s camera was charged and ready to use.
“My camera!” he exclaimed when he saw it.
“Yep,” I said and handed it to him. “You want to go out and take pictures?”
“Yeah,” he answers and puts the strap over his head. He remembered! It has been months since he’s seen that camera and he still remembered to put the strap over his head! I’m so proud of him!
We get ready and go out. “You just tell me when you want to take a picture and I’ll stop and let you get out of the stroller, okay Andrew?”
“Kay.”
We get halfway down Station Hill and Andrew raises his camera, turns it on and takes a picture. I looked but I didn’t see anything. “What are you taking a picture of?” I asked him.
“Bird.”
I didn’t see any bird, but we could certainly hear them. Once I downloaded his pictures, I found it.
We get down on Valley Road and I show Andrew what dogwood looks like. I left him sit as I took a couple of shots.
He gets out of the stroller and this is what dogwood looks like from his vantage point.
We turn to continue or walk and hadn’t gone more than a few steps when Ginger starts straining hard on the leash.
“Uh-oh, Andrew. Ginger smells something.” I shorten her leash and hold her back but I let her show me where it is. “What is it?” I bent over for a closer look. “I think it’s a mouse.”
“I scared,” Andrew said and got behind me.
“Why? A dead mouse can’t hurt you. I fired off a quick shot — don’t ask me why. I don’t know. I just always do. Andrew got a little braver, pulled his camera up, turned it on and took a picture too. And this is my shot of Andrew taking a shot of a dead mouse that Ginger found dead beside the road...
...and this is Andrews shot of a dead mouse.
I wonder sometimes how a little animal like this has come to die on the road. He didn’t appear to be hurt — no blood — and if he was old or sick wouldn’t he just seek the comfort of his den?
“You’re weird Peg,” you say.
I know, right!
Andrew and I go on down the road and I stop to take a picture of a flowering black haw tree.
On the flats before the pond at the campground, Andrew spots a dandelion, just ripe for the wishing.
“Look!” he shouts with glee.
I stop. He jumps off.
Plucks the dandelion.
And blows.
Then he spots another one!
“Take picture Mimi!”
Like I didn’t just take twenty pictures of him blowing the fluff off the first one! “Okay,” and I snap away as he blows the fluff off of dandelion after dandelion.
I spotted a pretty red cardinal and took his picture.
Yellow rocket is blooming. This is a common winter cress, a member of the mustard family, and is also editable.
We got down to the pond and there is a duck pair that I’ve fed before. “Andrew, do you want to feed the ducks?”
“What kid doesn’t want to feed the ducks!” you say.
I know, right!
I pulled out a baggie of cat food from my Doggie Poopie Bag and let Andrew throw a bunch of food to the ducks.
“Let’s not give them too much,” I say and Andrew hands the bag back to me.
We walk on and see the turtles on the log. They saw us too and splashed as they hit the water. Then it’s time to turn around and go home. After a few steps Andrew stops and points out into the pond. “Turtle,” he says. I looked to where he was pointing and sure enough there was a turtle nose sticking up out of the water.
“Yes it is!” I exclaimed duly impressed. I was surprised that he not only spotted it, but that he knew what it was too!
The sound of quacking and flapping catches our attention, we turn and those crazy ducks were flying right at us! I took a couple of pictures as they landed on the pond in front of us.
“I guess they want some more food,” I said and pulled out the cat food again. Andrew reached for it and I gave it to him.
“That’s enough,” I told him after he had thrown a couple of handfuls. He closed the zip-top bag and handed it back to me.
We hadn’t gone more than thirty feet when we heard the ducks again!
“Here they come again!” I told Andrew and fired off a few more shots. He reached for the bag and for the third and final time, I let him toss some cat food out to the ducks.
We are heading back up the hill toward the Strip and you can see an old turbine from the dam sitting on the crest of the hill. “What that, Mimi?” Andrew asks every time.
“It’s a turbine,” I answer every time.
“Why?” he asks every time.
“I don’t know. That’s just what it is,” I answer ever time.
“Oh,” he says apparently satisfied with my answer.
We take a few pictures...
...then Andrew gets back into his stroller. “Will you carry Itsy for a little while?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he answers.
I was a little surprised at his answer because Itsy nips at him and he’s afraid of her, but I settled Itsy into Andrew’s lap and we had no nipping issues.
We’re walking along and Andrew says, “There’s a bump, Mimi.”
I leaned forward to see what he was talking about and saw that he was gently stroking Itsy’s back.
“Yeah, she has an old lady bump,” I told him.
“Old lady bump?”
“Yep.”
“Oh,” and he thought about it for a moment. “Why?”
“I don’t know. That’s just what it is.”
And Andrew carried Itsy the whole way home.
Once we got home Andrew let me know that he had to pee. “Okay, I’ll get you a step stool.”
I put the stool in front of the toilet and as Andrew dropped his pants, I lifted the seat totally expecting him to pee standing up. He made to sit and I had to grab him and get the seat down. However, being a boy, and having his underwear around his knees, he didn’t quite get things tucked down before he let go.
“ANDREW!” I yelled and quickly helped.
Andrew laughed.
Lucky for me, his underwear acted as a dam keeping everything on the seat and it ran back into the pot, so it wasn’t as big of a mess as it could have been. I got Andrew washed off and changed into dry “big-boy” underwear.
I don’t let him play in the sink every time he comes over but since he was already stripped down I asked him if he wanted to play in the sink for a while.
“Yes,” he quickly answered.
I’m standing there watching him play, snapping an occasional photo...
...and an image comes unbidden into my mind’s eye. This image was of an old black and white photo with scalloped edges. In this image was a little boy playing at an old cast iron sink. It seems to me there was a pirate ship among the ships floating on the water and maybe airplanes on the landing strip of the sideboard.
♫♪ring ♪♫ ring ♫♪♫
As I’m writing this, my phone rings. I pulled it from my pocket but knew without looking that it was my one o’clock alarm and time to make my daily I love you call to my mama.
“Hello,” she answers, but she knows it’s me.
“Hi Momma!”
“Hi sweetheart.”
“What do you know today?” My usual opening question. I let her get her news out of the way before I start with whatever I want to talk about.
“I’m tired,” she says and the tiredness is evident in her voice.
“Oh. Well let me ask one question and I’ll let you rest, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Do you remember that photograph…” and I described it to her. Then I asked my question. “Was that Michael (my brother)?”
“No, no, no. We never had any photograph like that.”
“Are you sure?” silly me asks.
“Yes, and they never had pirate ships or airplanes either.”
“Are you sure?” really silly me repeats.
“Yes.”
“Well, I thought it was Mike or maybe Ed. Do you remember any sink like that? Maybe at Granny’s and Pap-pap’s house?”
“No,” and she sounded awful sure when she said it. “Maybe it was one of Clara’s photographs of Gene (my ex),” she guesses.
“I guess I could misremember it. I’m going to ask my siblings.”
So, you guys! Tell me. Has this photo ever existed outside of my mind?
Andrew didn’t play in the sink for long.
I found dry clothes in his backpack and after getting him dried and dressed we went in the RV; me to my computer and Andrew to my Nook and that’s where we were when Mom and Dad came to pick him up.
“Did he wet his pants?” Kandyce asked.
“Nope,” I said with a smile.
“Spill something on himself?”
“Nope,” I said again.
Kandyce looked perplexed. “Then why does he have different clothes on?”
I explained our little mishap in the bathroom.
“I’m surprised because he never wants to sit and pee at home,” Kandyce said.
Later that week, long about Saturday, I got call from my youngest and very handsome son, Kevin. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Writing.” Writing takes up a lot of my time these days.
“Do you want to watch Andrew for a couple of hours while we go shopping?”
“Absolutely!” I didn’t even have to think about it.
A couple of hours later, Kevin dropped off Andrew, his stroller, and his rain boots — “Just in case you want to take him out again.”
And we did go out.
“There’s a little butterfly Andrew,” I told him when I saw this little guy land on a leaf. The gray hairstreak is one of the most common of the hairstreaks in North America, and ranges over nearly all of the continent.
I really thought Andrew might get out of the stroller and take a picture but he didn’t and I didn’t suggest it. I want Andrew to take pictures of what Andrew wants to take pictures of.
From the road we could see into the old mini golf course and Andrew told me he wanted to go there. We go in through an open gate and Andrew spots some old softballs left laying around from the old batting cages. He had a great time throwing them.
Andrew wasn’t interested in taking very many pictures that day and halfway through our walk he got tired of carrying the camera around his neck and hung it on the handle of his stroller. But, having said that, he did take these two pictures inside the abandoned Two-Bit Town.
Down on the flats of Valley Road, just past the storage units, we pass an evergreen tree and I see the hoary (or orange) puccoon (pa-coon) is blooming.
“Look at the pretty yellow flowers,” I tell Andrew. I pushed him off the road and faced him to the flowers. “Would you hold Ginger for me?” I asked him and he reached for the leash.
“Where’s Itsy?” you ask.
Itsy was actually riding in the pocket behind Andrew’s seat.
I had only taken a couple of pictures when the sound of an approaching car catches my attention. I wasn’t sure where Ginger was, so I was getting up from my crouching position when I heard the car slow down. With the big evergreen between me and the driver, I’m sure he was concerned about a baby sitting in a stroller beside the road with no adult around, or maybe he hoped to catch me peeing, I don’t know, but I came out from beside the tree and stood beside my charges. The driver sped up and waved as he passed us by.
Conner, my young friend,
charges, as it is used here, means
somebody being taken care of.
Once the car was gone I went back and took a few more photos of this pretty spring flower, then I picked one and gave it to Andrew who promptly raised it to his nose and smelled it.
I feel like…
I don’t know what I feel like! An idiot maybe? Never once did I think about smelling the flower! What is wrong with me! “Let me smell,” I said and Andrew held the flower out to me. I sniffed but don’t think it smelled like much of anything.
Andrew climbed out of the stroller to walk for a while...
...and he took his flower and put it in a little hole in the end of one of the tubes of his stroller. Later when he wasn’t looking, we ‘lost’ the flower. He never missed it.
Outside the campground is a little creek close to the road and easy to get to. Ginger and even Itsy love to get in the creek here, get a drink and cool off.
“Do you want to get your feet wet?” I asked Andrew.
“Yes,” he answered. He started down the bank but was afraid. “Mimi help me, please?”
“Sure,” I said and took his hand. He got in and splashed a little. “Let’s take a picture for Daddy.” Andrew turned and grinned up at me! Isn’t he precious.
Then Andrew turned back to the business at hand and did a little foot stomping and the next thing I know he went down, down he went - right on his bottom in the creek. Andrew was sitting in the creek looking up at me.
He didn’t cry. “Come on,” and I reached out my hand to help him up. We made our way back up to the road and dejectedly Andrew walked with his head down. I pushed the stroller. “You want to ride?” I asked my little guy.
“No,” he said and shook his head.
“Why?” I asked.
“He touched his wet bottom, “Me no want to get wet,” he said and pointed at the stroller.
“It’ll be okay. It’ll dry. Come on and get in.”
“No.”
“Alright. You want to feed the ducks?”
“No. Me want to go home,” and he started back the way we had come.
“You want to go home?”
He nodded.
“Okay, but let’s go this way, up onto the Strip. Why don’t you get in and let me push you.”
“No.”
Andrew is stubborn and you would have a dirty rotten fight on your hands if you try to make him do what he doesn’t want to do.
So I let him walk.
We get up to the big parking lot and Ginger, normally the leader, is lagging behind. I called her to me, picked her up, and put her in the stroller. Then Andrew helped me push.
At the other end of the parking lot Andrew spots a treasure.
“What that?” he asks and goes off to investigate, leaving his charges unattended. I get the stroller handles and turn to him.
“What is it? Show me,” and he holds out a piece of lattice he had picked up. Andrew carried that thing the whole way home.
Now, I want you to know that I did keep asking and trying to coax Andrew into riding. He walked at least a half mile before he gave in and rode the last three blocks to home. He is one stubborn three year old, I’ll tell you that.
When Kevin came to collect his son, I told him about Andrew sitting in the creek.
“Did you get a picture?” he asked with a laugh.
“No I didn’t get a picture. I was too busy helping him get up out of the water.”
Later, when I was thinking about what I wanted to write about this time and looking through my photos, I see I got a couple of really cute photos of Andrew blowing spit along with dandelion fluff.
Should I show them, I wondered. What if Andrew sees this someday? I wouldn’t want him to be embarrassed.
I went to Andrew’s dad with the question, to show or not to show?
“Go ahead,” he said with a laugh and reaches for his phone. “Because if he hates that, then he’s really going to hate this.”
Kevin held his phone out to me and I see this. Ah. A rite of passage for any little boy. Learning to pee outside — star curtsey of Mimi.
“Why’s he bending over?” I asked when I first saw it, then I realized he was putting himself back together. “Didn’t you get a picture with a little ‘stream’?”
“Nope,” Kevin said. “I didn’t think of it.”
A little earlier in my letter I talked about wanting to make Butt Snuffers. Here they are. I made eight of them but I only painted six.
I was standing in my kitchen painting these and wondering how much I could sell them for. One dollar? Two? That is hardly worth my time to paint them. They are little works of art, don’t you think?
