Jeepcats27
Senior Member
Now be careful what you say, Cliff could come running in and break them up! Hopefully not for long but just saying Don't temp fate!
Story Nann
- Thread starter Kathy in FL
- Start date
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you, enjoyable as always.
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Sure could have been but, not right, not yet .....
More restraint & self discipline would yield fewer single parent families in our world but that ain't happening which is why 'we, the people' pay for those who think they're owed for their circumstances, no matter how they got there.
Chapter 24
“Great big gobs of greasy gopher guts,” I said in complete disgust, feeling like I might need to – ladylike or not - hawk up a loogie of the crud forming in the back of my throat.
Mitch didn’t even look at me strange, but he did say, “Nann, I want you to stay out here. And no fussing.”
“Do you hear me complaining?” I asked while trying not to gag at the smell of what I thought was male cat coming from inside the old Delray farmhouse. “Geez Louise. What made that stink?!”
“I got a feeling I know so you stay here. And if I yell, you get in the truck cab real quick.”
“Uh …” But it was too late as he’d already headed back inside the house, albeit this time with a bandana across his mouth and nose. Five minutes later it sounds like a buffalo is running loose in the house and when I see what comes running at full speed out of the front door, Mitch didn’t have to tell me to get into the cab.
Thirty minutes later I’m still traumatized, and Mitch is still caught up trying not to laugh.
“Mitch, it isn’t funny.”
He snickered. “It sorta is. We musta scared each other, then the fool thing runs into its own reflection in them sliding mirrors and …”
He’d already explained. A bobcat. A big, male bobcat. Grammy had said last summer she hadn’t seen them so bold since she was a little girl and her father had lost a newborn calf to one. Uncle Hy theorized that it was likely the lack of year ‘round residents giving their population time to come back.
Mitch had opened a bedroom door and startled it awake. He said the big cat would have come after him if it hadn’t scared itself silly running into the mirrors first and having one of the doors come off its track from the force and fall on him. After that all the cat wanted was out, any way it could get there.
I just shook my head at the craziness of it and then said, “I suppose all’s well that ends well but that’s all the excitement I want for a while.”
Mitch agreed as he carried another box of jars from the basement. “There’s been a fair bit, that’s for sure.”
We’d already opened as many windows as we could to air the place out. But it still wasn’t garden fresh if you know what I mean. How the dumb feline had gotten inside was through a doggie door that hadn’t been latched securely.
I shuddered at the smell that still wouldn’t evacuate the house. Looking at Mitch and making a face whether he could see it or not I said, “These boxes are going to have to stay outside until I can get the jars washed. I do not want that stinky cardboard in the house.” I shuddered. “Gag me, that’s disgusting,” I added as I had to skip over another wet patch I had almost walked through.
Mitch snorted a chuckle trying not to laugh again because he’d had to skip a few times himself or risk skidding and going down. The bobcat had been so scared he’d pee’d himself as it escaped. Luckily most of it was outside and we weren’t tracking through it, but it still added more stink on top of the other stink that was already there and wafting everywhere so bad we were both wearing bandanas across our face. I knew for a fact a shower was in my future, even if it had to be a cold one. And I’d be washing clothes too because I could just hear Grammy’s not-so-dulcet tones if she had got a sniff of us coming in the house.
While Mitch traipsed up and down the basement stairs it was my job to look around the rest of the house for other stuff. There wasn’t much; the house was only used in season like an oversized work shed and was mostly vacant. After I got over the heebies of pawing through other people’s stuff I was able to find some useful items.
I found a freakton of cheesecloth. It wasn’t new but was washed and folded neatly inside a big, plastic sheet-cake carrier box. Probably used for straining honey without destroying the comb. Also found a lot of cleaned beeswax that had obviously been melted, strained, then poured into forms before putting the blocks into some metal filing cabinets in the basement that were apparently used for storage.
I couldn’t believe how many lids and rings we found to go with the new pint, quart, and half-gallon jars that Mitch was putting anywhere they would fit in the truck or trailer. The lids were stored in the kitchen cabinets. The only other thing in the kitchen were some flavorings, some seasonings (mostly big boxes of salt and pepper), and the bare bones to cook and eat with. There were also these big strainers that I assume went with the cheesecloth for … what else … straining. The smallest ones were still too big for my head. And how do I know that? Because Mitch was being playful and said I could have one as a helmet. I guess twenty-one doesn’t mean you are too old to be silly when you are in a good mood, and he was riding high from the hilarity of the bobcat’s freak out.
Other than the cheesecloth there wasn’t any linens in the place. I guess they brought everything with them so they wouldn’t have to worry about mildew and dry rot. Or rodents chewing on them. Fine by me. There were these big aprons that looked like they were made out of heavy-duty shower curtains.
Upstairs in one of the old bedrooms were some folding cots all lined up like a dormitory in waiting. Mitch asked me if I wanted him to haul one of them down. I asked, “Why?”
He gave a slow grin that added to his happy before saying, “Just asking.” It took me a while before I realized he was asking whether I wanted another bed for our sleeping place. Whoops. But if things weren’t bothering me enough to think about it then I’m glad I was clueless until it was too late.
Mitch is also happy to have found more propane and the tanks are the smaller hundred-gallon tanks that we can haul back without having to disconnect them from things. They were not fun to move and get up on the trailer even with the hive dolly we found on-site to go with the one we brought from our bee shed. But Mitch was happy to add them to our inventory.
And that “our” is something else I’ve got on my mind. It was a weird conversation that started over me saying “his farm” in an off-hand comment.
“Dad and Grammy always meant to see that you had options Nann so even if … look even if nothing comes of what is between us you can always consider the farm as your home. And I mean always.”
“Uh …”
“No strings attached. I’m pretty sure Dad has it in his will so that’s the way it is going to be in mine.”
“Will?!” Boy had things progressed in a way I wasn’t prepared for.
“Don’t freak out on me. With life being the way it is …”
“Well it can just stay the way it is … or … or … I mean …”
“Nann, look here girl. If you can’t wrap your head around it ‘cause of the other stuff at least think of this. It gives me piece of mind to know that someone cares enough about all the work Dad and Grammy put into the old home place … and all the family before them … and if something happens to me …”
I shook my head. “Nothing is going to happen to you. Change the subject. Now.”
At least he listened to me. But I suppose I need to listen to him too. But it isn’t comfortable to think about so for now … I’m not ready for that or other stuff … and it is just going to have to wait until I have some room in my head to deal with it.
My head felt so calliwumpus for a bit I nearly forgot to check the rest of the upstairs bedrooms. After opening the last door Mitch heard me all but cuss and called up, “Problem?”
“No. But … Mitch there is a room full of jars of honey.” I kept talking while he came up the stairs. “It looks like they had this stuff packed to send to market and then just … didn’t. Or something.”
Mitch walked in, stopped, then shook his head. “Damn. And here I was thinkin’ I had moved the last bunch of cases of jars. And these are all full?” he asked.
“Yeah. And some of this is sorghum too but where it came from …”
I was standing there with my hands on my hips looking aggravated; like the boxes had irritated me on purpose. It caught Mitch funny for some reason and he laughed and … well … he snuck a kiss on my cheek making me flustered and forgetting exactly what I was mad for.
He added, “I know Mr. Delray had other businesses. Sorghum might have been one. Don’t know for sure and I can’t remember Dad saying anything in particular. Grammy actually talked about the Delrays more than Dad did. She was some kind of family to Mr. Delray’s grandmother. Don’t matter no more but …” He stopped and stretched and I heard things popping that really shouldn’t be. “Can you help bring down the small boxes. Stack ‘em at the foot of the stairs.”
“My legs aren’t broke. I can walk ‘em to the trailer.”
“Naw. I’m gonna stack ‘em and then take ‘em in batches with the dolly. You find anything else?”
“Gobbledy gook up in the attic that, since we’ve got a lot of our own to mess with, I vote we leave it where it is for just in case we are dying for more work to keep us busy later.”
Mitch chuckled before saying, “Let’s just get this down the stairs without breaking our necks then take one more look around. I’ll look in the attic before we leave.”
It really didn’t take as much time as I expected since all I had to do with carry what I could to the bottom of the stairs. But I gotta say my legs were singing acapella and off-key after all that up and down. Worse than Grammy’s spring-cleaning routine. As Mitch started moving the last stacks to the trailer, I gave the place one more go over. And I guess I need to remember to stick my head all the way in the closets and not just open the door and call it good.
“Mitch?”
At my tone Mitch stopped asked sharply, “Did you hear something?”
“Mice in the walls but that’s … look, does ammo and stuff count as stuff we can confiscate? They got real funny about it in town and …”
I didn’t need to finish explaining because Mitch had come over and looked in the under-the-stairs storage area I had been staring into.
He shook his head. “Damn stupid to leave that sitting on the floor, even if it is in a closet. Pipe could have broken over the winter and flooded things. Everything in there would have been wasted. Move and I’ll carry it out. Have you seen any guns?”
“No, but I am going to go back into all the closets in case I missed something.”
“Then get to it girl. If we’ve got salvagers in the area I don’t want to leave the farm any longer than necessary and we’ve been gone a lot longer than I expected. We also need to get the hives off the trailer, though I might just leave them there for the night as long as the barometer doesn’t say rain. It means pushing other things off that I had planned for tomorrow, but I sure as hell don’t want to leave anything for salvagers to find interesting to hang around for either.”
“Great big gobs of greasy gopher guts,” I said in complete disgust, feeling like I might need to – ladylike or not - hawk up a loogie of the crud forming in the back of my throat.
Mitch didn’t even look at me strange, but he did say, “Nann, I want you to stay out here. And no fussing.”
“Do you hear me complaining?” I asked while trying not to gag at the smell of what I thought was male cat coming from inside the old Delray farmhouse. “Geez Louise. What made that stink?!”
“I got a feeling I know so you stay here. And if I yell, you get in the truck cab real quick.”
“Uh …” But it was too late as he’d already headed back inside the house, albeit this time with a bandana across his mouth and nose. Five minutes later it sounds like a buffalo is running loose in the house and when I see what comes running at full speed out of the front door, Mitch didn’t have to tell me to get into the cab.
Thirty minutes later I’m still traumatized, and Mitch is still caught up trying not to laugh.
“Mitch, it isn’t funny.”
He snickered. “It sorta is. We musta scared each other, then the fool thing runs into its own reflection in them sliding mirrors and …”
He’d already explained. A bobcat. A big, male bobcat. Grammy had said last summer she hadn’t seen them so bold since she was a little girl and her father had lost a newborn calf to one. Uncle Hy theorized that it was likely the lack of year ‘round residents giving their population time to come back.
Mitch had opened a bedroom door and startled it awake. He said the big cat would have come after him if it hadn’t scared itself silly running into the mirrors first and having one of the doors come off its track from the force and fall on him. After that all the cat wanted was out, any way it could get there.
I just shook my head at the craziness of it and then said, “I suppose all’s well that ends well but that’s all the excitement I want for a while.”
Mitch agreed as he carried another box of jars from the basement. “There’s been a fair bit, that’s for sure.”
We’d already opened as many windows as we could to air the place out. But it still wasn’t garden fresh if you know what I mean. How the dumb feline had gotten inside was through a doggie door that hadn’t been latched securely.
I shuddered at the smell that still wouldn’t evacuate the house. Looking at Mitch and making a face whether he could see it or not I said, “These boxes are going to have to stay outside until I can get the jars washed. I do not want that stinky cardboard in the house.” I shuddered. “Gag me, that’s disgusting,” I added as I had to skip over another wet patch I had almost walked through.
Mitch snorted a chuckle trying not to laugh again because he’d had to skip a few times himself or risk skidding and going down. The bobcat had been so scared he’d pee’d himself as it escaped. Luckily most of it was outside and we weren’t tracking through it, but it still added more stink on top of the other stink that was already there and wafting everywhere so bad we were both wearing bandanas across our face. I knew for a fact a shower was in my future, even if it had to be a cold one. And I’d be washing clothes too because I could just hear Grammy’s not-so-dulcet tones if she had got a sniff of us coming in the house.
While Mitch traipsed up and down the basement stairs it was my job to look around the rest of the house for other stuff. There wasn’t much; the house was only used in season like an oversized work shed and was mostly vacant. After I got over the heebies of pawing through other people’s stuff I was able to find some useful items.
I found a freakton of cheesecloth. It wasn’t new but was washed and folded neatly inside a big, plastic sheet-cake carrier box. Probably used for straining honey without destroying the comb. Also found a lot of cleaned beeswax that had obviously been melted, strained, then poured into forms before putting the blocks into some metal filing cabinets in the basement that were apparently used for storage.
I couldn’t believe how many lids and rings we found to go with the new pint, quart, and half-gallon jars that Mitch was putting anywhere they would fit in the truck or trailer. The lids were stored in the kitchen cabinets. The only other thing in the kitchen were some flavorings, some seasonings (mostly big boxes of salt and pepper), and the bare bones to cook and eat with. There were also these big strainers that I assume went with the cheesecloth for … what else … straining. The smallest ones were still too big for my head. And how do I know that? Because Mitch was being playful and said I could have one as a helmet. I guess twenty-one doesn’t mean you are too old to be silly when you are in a good mood, and he was riding high from the hilarity of the bobcat’s freak out.
Other than the cheesecloth there wasn’t any linens in the place. I guess they brought everything with them so they wouldn’t have to worry about mildew and dry rot. Or rodents chewing on them. Fine by me. There were these big aprons that looked like they were made out of heavy-duty shower curtains.
Upstairs in one of the old bedrooms were some folding cots all lined up like a dormitory in waiting. Mitch asked me if I wanted him to haul one of them down. I asked, “Why?”
He gave a slow grin that added to his happy before saying, “Just asking.” It took me a while before I realized he was asking whether I wanted another bed for our sleeping place. Whoops. But if things weren’t bothering me enough to think about it then I’m glad I was clueless until it was too late.
Mitch is also happy to have found more propane and the tanks are the smaller hundred-gallon tanks that we can haul back without having to disconnect them from things. They were not fun to move and get up on the trailer even with the hive dolly we found on-site to go with the one we brought from our bee shed. But Mitch was happy to add them to our inventory.
And that “our” is something else I’ve got on my mind. It was a weird conversation that started over me saying “his farm” in an off-hand comment.
“Dad and Grammy always meant to see that you had options Nann so even if … look even if nothing comes of what is between us you can always consider the farm as your home. And I mean always.”
“Uh …”
“No strings attached. I’m pretty sure Dad has it in his will so that’s the way it is going to be in mine.”
“Will?!” Boy had things progressed in a way I wasn’t prepared for.
“Don’t freak out on me. With life being the way it is …”
“Well it can just stay the way it is … or … or … I mean …”
“Nann, look here girl. If you can’t wrap your head around it ‘cause of the other stuff at least think of this. It gives me piece of mind to know that someone cares enough about all the work Dad and Grammy put into the old home place … and all the family before them … and if something happens to me …”
I shook my head. “Nothing is going to happen to you. Change the subject. Now.”
At least he listened to me. But I suppose I need to listen to him too. But it isn’t comfortable to think about so for now … I’m not ready for that or other stuff … and it is just going to have to wait until I have some room in my head to deal with it.
My head felt so calliwumpus for a bit I nearly forgot to check the rest of the upstairs bedrooms. After opening the last door Mitch heard me all but cuss and called up, “Problem?”
“No. But … Mitch there is a room full of jars of honey.” I kept talking while he came up the stairs. “It looks like they had this stuff packed to send to market and then just … didn’t. Or something.”
Mitch walked in, stopped, then shook his head. “Damn. And here I was thinkin’ I had moved the last bunch of cases of jars. And these are all full?” he asked.
“Yeah. And some of this is sorghum too but where it came from …”
I was standing there with my hands on my hips looking aggravated; like the boxes had irritated me on purpose. It caught Mitch funny for some reason and he laughed and … well … he snuck a kiss on my cheek making me flustered and forgetting exactly what I was mad for.
He added, “I know Mr. Delray had other businesses. Sorghum might have been one. Don’t know for sure and I can’t remember Dad saying anything in particular. Grammy actually talked about the Delrays more than Dad did. She was some kind of family to Mr. Delray’s grandmother. Don’t matter no more but …” He stopped and stretched and I heard things popping that really shouldn’t be. “Can you help bring down the small boxes. Stack ‘em at the foot of the stairs.”
“My legs aren’t broke. I can walk ‘em to the trailer.”
“Naw. I’m gonna stack ‘em and then take ‘em in batches with the dolly. You find anything else?”
“Gobbledy gook up in the attic that, since we’ve got a lot of our own to mess with, I vote we leave it where it is for just in case we are dying for more work to keep us busy later.”
Mitch chuckled before saying, “Let’s just get this down the stairs without breaking our necks then take one more look around. I’ll look in the attic before we leave.”
It really didn’t take as much time as I expected since all I had to do with carry what I could to the bottom of the stairs. But I gotta say my legs were singing acapella and off-key after all that up and down. Worse than Grammy’s spring-cleaning routine. As Mitch started moving the last stacks to the trailer, I gave the place one more go over. And I guess I need to remember to stick my head all the way in the closets and not just open the door and call it good.
“Mitch?”
At my tone Mitch stopped asked sharply, “Did you hear something?”
“Mice in the walls but that’s … look, does ammo and stuff count as stuff we can confiscate? They got real funny about it in town and …”
I didn’t need to finish explaining because Mitch had come over and looked in the under-the-stairs storage area I had been staring into.
He shook his head. “Damn stupid to leave that sitting on the floor, even if it is in a closet. Pipe could have broken over the winter and flooded things. Everything in there would have been wasted. Move and I’ll carry it out. Have you seen any guns?”
“No, but I am going to go back into all the closets in case I missed something.”
“Then get to it girl. If we’ve got salvagers in the area I don’t want to leave the farm any longer than necessary and we’ve been gone a lot longer than I expected. We also need to get the hives off the trailer, though I might just leave them there for the night as long as the barometer doesn’t say rain. It means pushing other things off that I had planned for tomorrow, but I sure as hell don’t want to leave anything for salvagers to find interesting to hang around for either.”
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Than you very much.
Jeepcats27
Senior Member
Thanks for the chapter!
Chapter 25
“Get the last of it added to the inventory?” Mitch asked while he finished washing his hands from putting the animals up for the night.
“Yeah.”
“Then what’s the frown for? You’re looking like you’re getting one of my headaches.”
I sighed. “Not exactly. Just … thinking and trying to figure out how to get out in front of it all. I mean all the stuff that I need to do and what is gonna start needing to be done pretty soon,” I said as I looked at notes I’d made while going over Grammy’s notebooks.
I’ll give Mitch credit. He doesn’t just hear what I’m saying but actually listens too. He leaned back against the old commercial stainless-steel sinks in the canning kitchen that were big enough to float a boat on and crossed his arms like he was ready for me to need to blow off some steam. And yeah, I needed to.
“I’m missing out on the forage. Those burdock roots are the first foraging I’ve done in a while except for the baskets of mushrooms we gather every couple of days. Strawberries are gonna be ready to pick starting tomorrow, and I gotta keep them picked every day. And I have to can them or use them in some way every day or they’ll got to waste since we are trying to run only one of the gas freezers. I need to can the collards as they come in. You said we need to clear out even more crawdads out of the creek. Nutria are still overpopulating despite the ones we’ve already taken, and they need to be knocked down a few pegs or we risk them spreading into other waterways around here. And in a week we’ll be in May and the pole and snap beans are gonna start, not to mention the limas and they aren’t going to get picked, prepped, and canned on their own. The early cabbage is going to need something done with it besides slaw at every meal. Let’s add the peaches, field peas, and Irish potatoes to that. And I haven’t even scratched the surface of the long list of spring cleaning that needs to happen like checking the linen closets and chests for dry rot or silver fish.”
“Nann …”
Ignoring his attempted interruption I kept going. “And there is the salvaging you want us to do … and don’t fuss ‘cause I can now say I’m firmly ready to follow your lead on that. Plus there’s the bees, the chickens are off their laying, and …”
He walked over and put an arm around me. “Breathe Nann. Dad always said there may only be twenty-four hours in a day, but they always seem to stretch to be just enough to get done what you have to. Maybe not for what you want to do, but for what you need to do.”
Still feeling the heebies despite his attempt at comfort I said, “I just don’t want to let you or the family down.”
He gave me a funny look and then pulled me outside to the porch steps and sat us down on them. It was a pleasant night. Lots of stars out and it was cool without being cold enough you needed a jacket. And no bugs for a change. And no planes either.
“Nann I don’t think you know how to let me down. As for anyone else, family or not, they better not have a thing that falls out of their mouths on the subject. They ain’t doing the work, we are. They can appreciate and keep a civil tongue in their heads … or there’s the gate with a road on the other side of it.”
“Mitch …”
“I’m serious Nann. Now listen to me ‘cause I’ve definitely give this some thought. Neither one of us have ever had to do what we’re doing now on our own. I’ve come closer than you, but still Dad was just a holler away if I got in a fix of some type. And still and all I don’t think we’re doing bad. We might wind up leaving a few things on the table but right now we aren’t leaving much. Granted we might run into problems we can’t overcome but then again Grammy used to say that was the way the world turned on occasion and why the Creator didn’t build us to go through it alone. What we can’t do is let our fears rule us.”
“I’m not afraid,” I told him. “You’re here. What I am is worried I might not be able to keep up.”
He pulled me in closer and I realized I fit just right against him. “You’ll keep up. So will I. We just may not get everything done we want to. And let’s get back inside. That ain’t heat lightning off in the distance.”
“Is … is it more bombing?”
“Naw. See how high up it is? If it was a bombing run it would be closer to the ground.” We walked back inside and he said, “Did you pour tonight’s milk to set for cream?”
“Most of it. I held some back in case you had to leave the morning’s milk for the little calf.”
He snorted. “He’s not a bull he’s a pig.” Knowing that to be a fact I giggled. “She’s gonna start weaning him if he keeps up bothering her so much. Tell you what, I’ll make us some butterscotch milk tonight and I’ll get a bucket fresh in the morning and let Pig have the rest while we do whatever we need to.”
Trying not to laugh at calling a little bull by the name “Pig” since it was something that Uncle Hy would have gotten a kick out of and Grammy would have rolled her eyes at (she would have called him Hamburger), I said, “I can …”
“Naw. Tell you what, you go grab your notes … and get mine too … and we’ll sit and try and work out a list of things we need to do over the next couple of days. Might not turn out exactly as planned … but at least we’ll have a plan to work from.”
I could feel myself relaxing. “Mitch?”
“Huh?”
“Thanks.
“For?”
“Listening. And then helping me not feel so … so fritzy. I know you prefer to have quiet in the evenings.”
He looked guilty for only a moment then admitted, “It wasn’t needing the quiet so much as … as just feeling too much and not wanting to go off like an artillery rocket. Losing Dad and Grammy like that. Praying my eyes would come back online and not be stuck being blind. And … er … noticing you weren’t the little kid I remembered. It … what you call being quiet … was the only way I had of dealing with it. I was … I … I just didn’t want to deal with things the way I did when I was a kid. Going back to feeling like I did then … hell of a thing Nann. That scared me worse than being blind did.”
“Do … do you still feel that way?”
“Naw. I’m … I’m not alone. And you’re why. I wanna do this right every bit as much as you do. But I’ve got enough experience to know you gotta be careful to not take on more than is reasonable. If I get topped off, I might pop off and … and I don’t want to do that, don’t want you to see me do that, be that way.”
“Are you worried that I’ll be that way?”
“You? Naw. You’re the opposite of that. Grammy used to say you keep stuff in too much, that you were gonna give yourself an ulcer if you weren’t careful. It’s why she was glad Aunt Dina didn’t fuss about you coming up here all the time. Besides the help to her I mean. It gave you a chance to get out from under … er …”
“Er?”
“She thought maybe Aunt Dina and Uncle John expected a little much from you. You know Grammy kept all of your dolls for you.”
Blushing I said, “I know. She showed me the trunk they were in last summer. I … I thought Mom had gotten rid of them all. She thought Barbie dolls were immodest or something like that.”
“Uncle John brought them out here.”
“Dad? I … thought maybe Mom …”
“Hey, I didn’t tell you to make you sad.”
I sighed. “It isn’t … sad. I just remember when …” I shook my head. “Mom had issues with her family and how she was raised but at the same time she has her own boundaries and lines in the sand. You remember Grandmother and Grandfather. No holiday celebrations. No birthday parties. No making festivals into spectacles. Everything was just supposed to be …” I stopped and shook my head. “They just took their religion real serious.”
Not meaning to be hurtful, just stating a fact as he saw it, Mitch said, “Dad said it didn’t have a thing to do with taking their religious serious, but they took themselves too serious. He said they weren’t pious so much as they wore their religion like a corncob shoved up their …”
“Mitch!”
“I’m just repeating what Dad said.”
“Trust me. Uncle Hy rarely kept his opinion on that side of the family to himself though he did try and keep quiet about it while Mom was around.”
Mitch started the butterscotch milk, and I gathered our notes and brought them to the kitchen table. Still having memories on my mind I asked, “Do you remember the year my Uncle Paul and Dad got into a fight over the fact that Grammy fixed me and Dale a little Christmas tree? Mom didn’t talk to Uncle Paul for a couple of years. They could be in the same line at church but they would even breathe the same oxygen molecule if they could get out of it. And over something just not worth that kind of behavior. Geez they are both … well … I’m not being disrespectful. Honest I’m not. But both of them could out stubborn a mountain if they put their mind to it.”
Mitch gave it a thought for a second then said, “Can’t say I ever heard about that. What was it over?”
“It wasn’t even the tree exactly. The thing was really just a branch, and Grammy had done what she could not to offend Mom and her family. Put a lot of thought into it and Mom was … well for her … just real appreciative. Everything was homemade and modest. The star was some recycled aluminum foil and it was only decorated with natural stuff like pine cones and acorns. The only other decoration was she’d found an old-timey Christmas card with the Christmas story verses and had glued it to the base part. That’s what blew Uncle Paul’s gasket … the card ‘cause it was a little gaudy like such old cards are … and the fact Mom had set it in the family room near the Creche scene.”
Mitch said, “I don’t think I ever met your Uncle Paul.”
“You haven’t missed anything,” I told him, trying real hard for Mom’s sake not to be completely disrespectful. “Uncle Paul is what you might call … uh … let’s just say he thinks Jesus is gonna make him a general or something.”
“He’s a hypocrite is he.”
“No. Not really. It’s … weird. He really and truly believes all the stuff he preaches on. And he really does practice what he preaches. I think he even means well. He’s just the kinda person that seems to think he’s got a spare set of keys to the pearly gates and is gonna help decide who gets in and who doesn’t. It’s not … um … malicious. He just really, really believes that way. He really studies the Bible. A lot. Like that’s the only thing he does if he isn’t working. And he expects the rest of the family to be the same. The Bible is all that is allowed in the house. It’s the only textbook his kids were allowed to have. And you know they don’t sing or play musical instruments either.”
“Sounds like he only studies some parts of the Bible. I ain’t what you would call a prime example of how a person is supposed to act all the time but even I know there’s parts in the Bible on like having fun at banquets and weddings and stuff.”
I sighed. It was a long-standing debate in my family that got real old, real fast; and even older and faster the older I got. “I try and not get into it too much. I saw how much it hurt Mom even when she tried not to show it. And Dad had his own hang ups because you remember his step-dad. I think people mean well … but I also think they miss the point a lot of the time.”
“Come up with that on your own?”
I looked, checking to see he wasn’t trying to joke me out of a mood but it seemed he was really asking me so I gave him the truth. “No. Dad used to talk to Dale about it. And Dale would talk to me. Then I got old enough that I had my own opinions and Dale and I talked about that too.”
“Miss him?”
I hadn’t been sad until he asked. “Yeah. But things were already changing. He’s … I missed his birthday. That’s never happened. He’s twenty now and he and Stan’s sister Charlene were getting real serious. I don’t even know how that’s going or … or any of it.”
“Hey … don’t cry.”
“I’m not … not really. I won’t pretend it doesn’t hurt but … but I think that … that so long as I can believe they’re somewhere and everyone is together and doing alright that I can be alright too. I also don’t want you to think that the only reason I’m … you know … this … whatever it is … is happening because none of them are here. It’s not like that. I think this would have happened whether Dale was here or not.”
He sighed but it wasn’t a bad sound.
“I can’t say that I would be acting on noticing you. But I don’t think that I couldn’t help but notice you even if Uncle John and Dale both were here with the rest of the family. I can’t see how no one else had noticed you before now. But …”
“But?”
“When they do get here or we get there or however it happens, I wanna be able to look ‘em in the face and say I didn’t take advantage of you and that we both used some sense and didn’t do what my bio-mom and bio-gramma did. Nann, I just can’t be that way. I think it would maybe mess me up and make me worthless.”
“Don’t worry about that, I trust you Mitch.”
He groaned then chuckled. “Tell you what, it’s time for me to say let’s change the subject. You okay with that?”
“Sure. We can take turns. Can changing the subject though mean we can get back to talking about some kind of schedule?”
“Sure can. Enough juice left in your tablet that we can have the inventory up and running?”
I looked at him and slid it over so it could sit between us. “Our tablet. And yes. I keep it on the solar charger on the desk under the window upstairs when we aren’t using it.”
“Our tablet huh.”
“Our tablet,” I repeated. “So let’s get going on our notes.”
Mitch laughed but we finally got down to planning.
“Get the last of it added to the inventory?” Mitch asked while he finished washing his hands from putting the animals up for the night.
“Yeah.”
“Then what’s the frown for? You’re looking like you’re getting one of my headaches.”
I sighed. “Not exactly. Just … thinking and trying to figure out how to get out in front of it all. I mean all the stuff that I need to do and what is gonna start needing to be done pretty soon,” I said as I looked at notes I’d made while going over Grammy’s notebooks.
I’ll give Mitch credit. He doesn’t just hear what I’m saying but actually listens too. He leaned back against the old commercial stainless-steel sinks in the canning kitchen that were big enough to float a boat on and crossed his arms like he was ready for me to need to blow off some steam. And yeah, I needed to.
“I’m missing out on the forage. Those burdock roots are the first foraging I’ve done in a while except for the baskets of mushrooms we gather every couple of days. Strawberries are gonna be ready to pick starting tomorrow, and I gotta keep them picked every day. And I have to can them or use them in some way every day or they’ll got to waste since we are trying to run only one of the gas freezers. I need to can the collards as they come in. You said we need to clear out even more crawdads out of the creek. Nutria are still overpopulating despite the ones we’ve already taken, and they need to be knocked down a few pegs or we risk them spreading into other waterways around here. And in a week we’ll be in May and the pole and snap beans are gonna start, not to mention the limas and they aren’t going to get picked, prepped, and canned on their own. The early cabbage is going to need something done with it besides slaw at every meal. Let’s add the peaches, field peas, and Irish potatoes to that. And I haven’t even scratched the surface of the long list of spring cleaning that needs to happen like checking the linen closets and chests for dry rot or silver fish.”
“Nann …”
Ignoring his attempted interruption I kept going. “And there is the salvaging you want us to do … and don’t fuss ‘cause I can now say I’m firmly ready to follow your lead on that. Plus there’s the bees, the chickens are off their laying, and …”
He walked over and put an arm around me. “Breathe Nann. Dad always said there may only be twenty-four hours in a day, but they always seem to stretch to be just enough to get done what you have to. Maybe not for what you want to do, but for what you need to do.”
Still feeling the heebies despite his attempt at comfort I said, “I just don’t want to let you or the family down.”
He gave me a funny look and then pulled me outside to the porch steps and sat us down on them. It was a pleasant night. Lots of stars out and it was cool without being cold enough you needed a jacket. And no bugs for a change. And no planes either.
“Nann I don’t think you know how to let me down. As for anyone else, family or not, they better not have a thing that falls out of their mouths on the subject. They ain’t doing the work, we are. They can appreciate and keep a civil tongue in their heads … or there’s the gate with a road on the other side of it.”
“Mitch …”
“I’m serious Nann. Now listen to me ‘cause I’ve definitely give this some thought. Neither one of us have ever had to do what we’re doing now on our own. I’ve come closer than you, but still Dad was just a holler away if I got in a fix of some type. And still and all I don’t think we’re doing bad. We might wind up leaving a few things on the table but right now we aren’t leaving much. Granted we might run into problems we can’t overcome but then again Grammy used to say that was the way the world turned on occasion and why the Creator didn’t build us to go through it alone. What we can’t do is let our fears rule us.”
“I’m not afraid,” I told him. “You’re here. What I am is worried I might not be able to keep up.”
He pulled me in closer and I realized I fit just right against him. “You’ll keep up. So will I. We just may not get everything done we want to. And let’s get back inside. That ain’t heat lightning off in the distance.”
“Is … is it more bombing?”
“Naw. See how high up it is? If it was a bombing run it would be closer to the ground.” We walked back inside and he said, “Did you pour tonight’s milk to set for cream?”
“Most of it. I held some back in case you had to leave the morning’s milk for the little calf.”
He snorted. “He’s not a bull he’s a pig.” Knowing that to be a fact I giggled. “She’s gonna start weaning him if he keeps up bothering her so much. Tell you what, I’ll make us some butterscotch milk tonight and I’ll get a bucket fresh in the morning and let Pig have the rest while we do whatever we need to.”
Trying not to laugh at calling a little bull by the name “Pig” since it was something that Uncle Hy would have gotten a kick out of and Grammy would have rolled her eyes at (she would have called him Hamburger), I said, “I can …”
“Naw. Tell you what, you go grab your notes … and get mine too … and we’ll sit and try and work out a list of things we need to do over the next couple of days. Might not turn out exactly as planned … but at least we’ll have a plan to work from.”
I could feel myself relaxing. “Mitch?”
“Huh?”
“Thanks.
“For?”
“Listening. And then helping me not feel so … so fritzy. I know you prefer to have quiet in the evenings.”
He looked guilty for only a moment then admitted, “It wasn’t needing the quiet so much as … as just feeling too much and not wanting to go off like an artillery rocket. Losing Dad and Grammy like that. Praying my eyes would come back online and not be stuck being blind. And … er … noticing you weren’t the little kid I remembered. It … what you call being quiet … was the only way I had of dealing with it. I was … I … I just didn’t want to deal with things the way I did when I was a kid. Going back to feeling like I did then … hell of a thing Nann. That scared me worse than being blind did.”
“Do … do you still feel that way?”
“Naw. I’m … I’m not alone. And you’re why. I wanna do this right every bit as much as you do. But I’ve got enough experience to know you gotta be careful to not take on more than is reasonable. If I get topped off, I might pop off and … and I don’t want to do that, don’t want you to see me do that, be that way.”
“Are you worried that I’ll be that way?”
“You? Naw. You’re the opposite of that. Grammy used to say you keep stuff in too much, that you were gonna give yourself an ulcer if you weren’t careful. It’s why she was glad Aunt Dina didn’t fuss about you coming up here all the time. Besides the help to her I mean. It gave you a chance to get out from under … er …”
“Er?”
“She thought maybe Aunt Dina and Uncle John expected a little much from you. You know Grammy kept all of your dolls for you.”
Blushing I said, “I know. She showed me the trunk they were in last summer. I … I thought Mom had gotten rid of them all. She thought Barbie dolls were immodest or something like that.”
“Uncle John brought them out here.”
“Dad? I … thought maybe Mom …”
“Hey, I didn’t tell you to make you sad.”
I sighed. “It isn’t … sad. I just remember when …” I shook my head. “Mom had issues with her family and how she was raised but at the same time she has her own boundaries and lines in the sand. You remember Grandmother and Grandfather. No holiday celebrations. No birthday parties. No making festivals into spectacles. Everything was just supposed to be …” I stopped and shook my head. “They just took their religion real serious.”
Not meaning to be hurtful, just stating a fact as he saw it, Mitch said, “Dad said it didn’t have a thing to do with taking their religious serious, but they took themselves too serious. He said they weren’t pious so much as they wore their religion like a corncob shoved up their …”
“Mitch!”
“I’m just repeating what Dad said.”
“Trust me. Uncle Hy rarely kept his opinion on that side of the family to himself though he did try and keep quiet about it while Mom was around.”
Mitch started the butterscotch milk, and I gathered our notes and brought them to the kitchen table. Still having memories on my mind I asked, “Do you remember the year my Uncle Paul and Dad got into a fight over the fact that Grammy fixed me and Dale a little Christmas tree? Mom didn’t talk to Uncle Paul for a couple of years. They could be in the same line at church but they would even breathe the same oxygen molecule if they could get out of it. And over something just not worth that kind of behavior. Geez they are both … well … I’m not being disrespectful. Honest I’m not. But both of them could out stubborn a mountain if they put their mind to it.”
Mitch gave it a thought for a second then said, “Can’t say I ever heard about that. What was it over?”
“It wasn’t even the tree exactly. The thing was really just a branch, and Grammy had done what she could not to offend Mom and her family. Put a lot of thought into it and Mom was … well for her … just real appreciative. Everything was homemade and modest. The star was some recycled aluminum foil and it was only decorated with natural stuff like pine cones and acorns. The only other decoration was she’d found an old-timey Christmas card with the Christmas story verses and had glued it to the base part. That’s what blew Uncle Paul’s gasket … the card ‘cause it was a little gaudy like such old cards are … and the fact Mom had set it in the family room near the Creche scene.”
Mitch said, “I don’t think I ever met your Uncle Paul.”
“You haven’t missed anything,” I told him, trying real hard for Mom’s sake not to be completely disrespectful. “Uncle Paul is what you might call … uh … let’s just say he thinks Jesus is gonna make him a general or something.”
“He’s a hypocrite is he.”
“No. Not really. It’s … weird. He really and truly believes all the stuff he preaches on. And he really does practice what he preaches. I think he even means well. He’s just the kinda person that seems to think he’s got a spare set of keys to the pearly gates and is gonna help decide who gets in and who doesn’t. It’s not … um … malicious. He just really, really believes that way. He really studies the Bible. A lot. Like that’s the only thing he does if he isn’t working. And he expects the rest of the family to be the same. The Bible is all that is allowed in the house. It’s the only textbook his kids were allowed to have. And you know they don’t sing or play musical instruments either.”
“Sounds like he only studies some parts of the Bible. I ain’t what you would call a prime example of how a person is supposed to act all the time but even I know there’s parts in the Bible on like having fun at banquets and weddings and stuff.”
I sighed. It was a long-standing debate in my family that got real old, real fast; and even older and faster the older I got. “I try and not get into it too much. I saw how much it hurt Mom even when she tried not to show it. And Dad had his own hang ups because you remember his step-dad. I think people mean well … but I also think they miss the point a lot of the time.”
“Come up with that on your own?”
I looked, checking to see he wasn’t trying to joke me out of a mood but it seemed he was really asking me so I gave him the truth. “No. Dad used to talk to Dale about it. And Dale would talk to me. Then I got old enough that I had my own opinions and Dale and I talked about that too.”
“Miss him?”
I hadn’t been sad until he asked. “Yeah. But things were already changing. He’s … I missed his birthday. That’s never happened. He’s twenty now and he and Stan’s sister Charlene were getting real serious. I don’t even know how that’s going or … or any of it.”
“Hey … don’t cry.”
“I’m not … not really. I won’t pretend it doesn’t hurt but … but I think that … that so long as I can believe they’re somewhere and everyone is together and doing alright that I can be alright too. I also don’t want you to think that the only reason I’m … you know … this … whatever it is … is happening because none of them are here. It’s not like that. I think this would have happened whether Dale was here or not.”
He sighed but it wasn’t a bad sound.
“I can’t say that I would be acting on noticing you. But I don’t think that I couldn’t help but notice you even if Uncle John and Dale both were here with the rest of the family. I can’t see how no one else had noticed you before now. But …”
“But?”
“When they do get here or we get there or however it happens, I wanna be able to look ‘em in the face and say I didn’t take advantage of you and that we both used some sense and didn’t do what my bio-mom and bio-gramma did. Nann, I just can’t be that way. I think it would maybe mess me up and make me worthless.”
“Don’t worry about that, I trust you Mitch.”
He groaned then chuckled. “Tell you what, it’s time for me to say let’s change the subject. You okay with that?”
“Sure. We can take turns. Can changing the subject though mean we can get back to talking about some kind of schedule?”
“Sure can. Enough juice left in your tablet that we can have the inventory up and running?”
I looked at him and slid it over so it could sit between us. “Our tablet. And yes. I keep it on the solar charger on the desk under the window upstairs when we aren’t using it.”
“Our tablet huh.”
“Our tablet,” I repeated. “So let’s get going on our notes.”
Mitch laughed but we finally got down to planning.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Very good, thank you.
Got several Veta 2 chapters posted this morning before heading out for some Sunday driving fun.
And they were so very good! Thanks for all your hard work.
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Sammy55
Veteran Member
Veta 2:- go to: www.fictionpress.com
search for MotherHeninFlorida
You can also check out www.fanfiction.net and search for the same name.
Don't blame me if you lose a few days
search for MotherHeninFlorida
You can also check out www.fanfiction.net and search for the same name.
Don't blame me if you lose a few days
Old Gray Mare
TB Fanatic
Here you go. I've got her story list bookmarked. Days? Could be weeks. Remember to take notes.Veta 2:- go to: www.fictionpress.com
search for MotherHeninFlorida
You can also check out www.fanfiction.net and search for the same name.
Don't blame me if you lose a few days
MotherHeninFlorida | FictionPress
MotherHeninFlorida is an author that has written 23 stories for Action, Sci-Fi, and General.
www.fictionpress.com
Here's a full list of all of my stories regardless of where they are located. The only thing I don't do is share whatever story I am currently writing here on TB2K. After a story is completed here I either either put it on fanfiction or fictionpress and then list ii on the alphabetical list that is on the right side of my blog (the blog hasn't beem updated it in a while).
Each story will say complete if it is, otherwise assume it isn't. I also blew off some steam writing some fanfic mysteries for CSI:NY and CSI:Miami so those are the ones on the list you probably would least expect. There are 16 or 17 completed stories, as well as several in progress I haven't posted anywhere except on my external hard drive at home. LOL. I'm trying to save those for TB2K after Nann is finished. I jump story to story as the mood and time hits me.
Mother Hen's Story Time Blogg
Each story will say complete if it is, otherwise assume it isn't. I also blew off some steam writing some fanfic mysteries for CSI:NY and CSI:Miami so those are the ones on the list you probably would least expect. There are 16 or 17 completed stories, as well as several in progress I haven't posted anywhere except on my external hard drive at home. LOL. I'm trying to save those for TB2K after Nann is finished. I jump story to story as the mood and time hits me.
Mother Hen's Story Time Blogg
Last edited:
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Now, if that happens, my wife would say you spoke that into existence and blame you completely!
Chapter 26
“We need to minimize our fuel usage,” Mitch was telling me as I put breakfast omelets on the table. “I don’t want another day like yesterday. That was a waste.”
“But we found that fuel and all that stuff for the garden.”
“That was tractor fuel and while it was a good thing, we wasted nearly half a tank of truck fuel and when it is gone, it is gonna be gone.”
I grinned, “Unless we can figure out how Mr. Purdy ran his still.” Then the grin faded remembering that it wasn’t just Mr. Purdy’s still we’d found. We’d found Mr. Purdy too, or his mortal remains anyway.
“Poor old man. Wish I could have got him to the cemetery where his wife is but that’s too close to town,” Mitch sighed.
“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t care anymore and he always did like his apple orchard.”
Mitch nodded like he agreed. “He and Dad were good friends and went hunting and fishing together real regular until Mr. Purdy’s kids convinced their parents to go live in that retirement community down in Florida. Mrs. Purdy was real happy until she passed, joined all sorts of social what nots and clubs according to Grammy, but Mr. Purdy hated it from the get go, or so said Dad. I wonder if Dad knew he’d run off from that home they had him in and come back to their property up here? Hard to tell how long he’d been around.”
Giving it a think I said, “Wasn’t here last summer because I remember Uncle Hy going to visit him in the hospital while I was here. Uncle Hy drove all the way to Florida and Grammy was worried sick about him. Grammy and I took the time while he was gone to strip most of the trees in the orchard that were in fruit and just about have a pot of something perking 24/7.”
“No, hasn’t been that long but long enough for the body to …” Mitch belched.
“Let’s just call it mummify.”
“Yeah, that’s a good word for it. Probably happened sometime between fall and spring … it was a real dry Autumn. Dad said he was worried about the ag well ‘cause he had to keep it going so much. Had a few fires on the other side of the ridge and they normally get more wet than we do. That might explain why he … er … looked like he did.”
“All dry and … urp … yeah. And there wasn’t much food in the house either. Just a couple of can’s of pork n’ beans left and that cornmeal that was full of weevils.”
“Had probably been trapping for most of his food ‘cause I didn’t see a gun in the house. Dad said his kids had turned them all in during one of those buy-backs before the war.”
“Yeah, Dale said a lot of people had 20/20 hindsight over that and wished they could have them back. Some guy from the government came to the house when it was just Dale and me at home and wanted to inspect things.”
“What?!”
“Yeah and I wouldn’t have opened the door but they wouldn’t go away. But when he started his act or whatever it was, I acted all prissy and said that Mom and Dad said strangers weren’t allowed in the house cause they could be one of them insurrectionists like we saw on the news. And to prove we weren’t that type of person we’d given the old air gun we used to have for raccoons to that charity that had been giving out food vouchers for guns and we even donated the food vouchers. And could I please have his card so I could leave it for my parents so they could show it to the cops ‘cause you know some of the nosey neighbors we had with all of their security cameras and stuff was taking pictures right now and I didn’t want to get in trouble for talking to a stranger even if it was a stranger from the government.”
Mitch was snorting and laughing. “Girl you are too much. I take it Dale was there somewhere?”
“Yeah. Hiding in the hallway and doing just about what you are doing right now. Don’t spill your coffee, I’m trying only to make half a pot today.” When he nodded I said, “So, no more wasting fuel?”
Mitch nodded. “Just don’t want another day like yesterday. I say we stay around the farm today. I’ll cultivate the garden rows, try and save some hoeing that way, spend some time with the animals and I’ll check the fences around here. That’ll give you time to run some things off your list. When I take breaks, I’ll mark the places on a map I know of that are within sane distance for bothering with and then I’ll figure the best route and unless something comes up today that just has to be done tomorrow, we’ll throw a picnic lunch in the truck and spend some time running from place to place to see if it is even worth trying to salvage beyond that point.”
I thought about it while I started forking my breakfast in my mouth. “Unless something is ready for harvest in the gardens that I’m not expecting, I don’t see a problem with your plan.”
“Good enough,” he said while he started eating as well.
Long and short of it is that most people hadn’t stored much in their hunting cabins and “second homes.” There were two places that were the exception to that. First place didn’t look like much more than a hunting camp and if I hadn’t nearly fallen through the floor in the lean-to tacked onto the back of the place we never would have found it.
“What in the hell? You okay Nann?”
I wound up on my butt to keep from going through the wood floor that was in actuality something like a reverse attic pull down.
“I twisted my foot but the pinch is already going away. Why would someone put a basement outside?”
Mitch had managed to pry up the door where it had sunk – carpenter ants had gotten into the wood pile and chewed on the lean to’s framing as well as the floor joist the “floor door” was attached to. When I stepped on it – and yeah, I’m not exactly Thumbelina – the joist gave way enough that I’m glad I’m faster on my feet than most “fluffy” girls are. Though come to think of it I’m not nearly as “fluffy” as I used to be. I still check my weight and that hasn’t changed, but I guess my muscles must be bigger. I’ll never be a stick figure though so I’ve tried not to worry about it and get vain.
“Mitch? See anything?”
“My flashlight isn’t strong enough. And I ain’t walking down them stairs until I’ve got a better idea of the shape they are in. You’re strong. You ain’t strong enough to haul me up if I take a header.”
I stood up and put a little weight on my foot to see how hurt it was. I told him to keep him from noticing it hurt … a lot … by saying, “I’d give it a try but let’s not if I don’t have to. I saw a lantern on a shelf inside. It’s one of the wind-up things. If it works, we can hang it on a string and lower it down.
“Well ain’t you just about smart. Except for trying to hide that limp. Don’t do that sorta thing Nann.”
I sighed. “Don’t treat me like a baby Mitch. And you know I’m not the princess type. If it hurts too bad to get around on I’ll tell you. Just don’t be like Dale.”
“Dale huh. I thought he and you adventured all the time.”
“Truthfully? He is a better than decent big brother but he’d start treating me like a girl at the most inconvenient times.”
Mitch chuckled, “He whut?”
“We were hiking one time and had some younger guys along that were training for Philmont and …”
“What’s Philmont?”
“Ranch out west that the Scouts own and use as a high adventure camp. You go out and spend a week or so and hike and primitive camp … most treks are 50 to 75 miles in length but we were on a special trek of 120 miles and …”
“A hundred and twenty miles?! Uncle John OK’d this?!”
“Relax. Dad is a chauvinist but not an unreasonable one.”
Mitch snorted. “What about Aunt Dina?”
I shrugged. “I know. But go figure. She was okay with it so long as Dale was going. She and Dad had a lot of dates planned for curriculum fairs and … uh …”
“Uh what?”
“It was that summer that you, Kermit, and Jaeson worked for Uncle Hy while you were off school … I think it was right before you enlisted. You would have been okay, but Mom was real leery of me being up here with Kermit and Jaeson.”
“Oh. Oooooh. You mean she didn’t like Kermit and Jaeson.”
“Not exactly. Just their mom wasn’t exactly subtle and had upset her. Ms. Sarah had been hinting around about having Dale come court Rebecca for months but Dale didn’t want anything to do with it … not to mention he thought it was plenty gross because Rebecca is our double second cousin or something screwy like that, although I think that was just an excuse ‘cause Rebecca wasn’t the good girl Ms. Sarah thought she was if you know what I mean.” I peeked and could see that he did and I kept going to keep me from wondering just how he knew what I meant. “Well next in line was Kermit and Jaeson and she told Mom that she was looking to arrange a nice girl for one or the other of them to court when they got out of college and did Mom know any. But not me. I was too ‘rough and tumble’ for her boys. If Ms. Sarah hadn’t been such a bigwig in the local home school groups Mom would have made a big stink out of what she considered an insult. Instead she turned it into a compliment and said that she was hoping I wouldn’t get married as young as she was looking for because she was wanting a real man to notice me and not just a boy and that she wanted me ready and strong because life wasn’t all games and … I can’t remember what all was said.”
“You ain’t saying that Sarah said that in front of you are you?” Mitch asked like he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like my answer.
I grinned. “Like I was a piece of furniture.”
“What are you smiling about girl?! And why didn’t Aunt Dina take her head off?!”
I smiled. “Relax. Mom did something even better. She might have been on the fence about me being in Ventures and hanging around with Dale so much up to that point, but she never complained … not so long as I learned the things that Grammy taught me and wasn’t a Drama Queen and didn’t give them any heartburn. Not to mention I heard her and Dad going on about it one night. Mom said, ‘Just who does Sarah think she is criticizing my daughter when hers might be lucky if she has two braincells to rub together on a good day. If that girl ever opened her mouth all you would be able to hear was an echo. Nannette is strong and confident and its going to stay that way.’ And more blah, blah, parental unit blah. It was kinda cool.”
After Mitch got over his surprise he said, “You know, I think I can see Aunt Dina saying something just like that. So Miss Strong and Confident, think you can find that lantern and prove that ankle is walkable?”
“We need to minimize our fuel usage,” Mitch was telling me as I put breakfast omelets on the table. “I don’t want another day like yesterday. That was a waste.”
“But we found that fuel and all that stuff for the garden.”
“That was tractor fuel and while it was a good thing, we wasted nearly half a tank of truck fuel and when it is gone, it is gonna be gone.”
I grinned, “Unless we can figure out how Mr. Purdy ran his still.” Then the grin faded remembering that it wasn’t just Mr. Purdy’s still we’d found. We’d found Mr. Purdy too, or his mortal remains anyway.
“Poor old man. Wish I could have got him to the cemetery where his wife is but that’s too close to town,” Mitch sighed.
“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t care anymore and he always did like his apple orchard.”
Mitch nodded like he agreed. “He and Dad were good friends and went hunting and fishing together real regular until Mr. Purdy’s kids convinced their parents to go live in that retirement community down in Florida. Mrs. Purdy was real happy until she passed, joined all sorts of social what nots and clubs according to Grammy, but Mr. Purdy hated it from the get go, or so said Dad. I wonder if Dad knew he’d run off from that home they had him in and come back to their property up here? Hard to tell how long he’d been around.”
Giving it a think I said, “Wasn’t here last summer because I remember Uncle Hy going to visit him in the hospital while I was here. Uncle Hy drove all the way to Florida and Grammy was worried sick about him. Grammy and I took the time while he was gone to strip most of the trees in the orchard that were in fruit and just about have a pot of something perking 24/7.”
“No, hasn’t been that long but long enough for the body to …” Mitch belched.
“Let’s just call it mummify.”
“Yeah, that’s a good word for it. Probably happened sometime between fall and spring … it was a real dry Autumn. Dad said he was worried about the ag well ‘cause he had to keep it going so much. Had a few fires on the other side of the ridge and they normally get more wet than we do. That might explain why he … er … looked like he did.”
“All dry and … urp … yeah. And there wasn’t much food in the house either. Just a couple of can’s of pork n’ beans left and that cornmeal that was full of weevils.”
“Had probably been trapping for most of his food ‘cause I didn’t see a gun in the house. Dad said his kids had turned them all in during one of those buy-backs before the war.”
“Yeah, Dale said a lot of people had 20/20 hindsight over that and wished they could have them back. Some guy from the government came to the house when it was just Dale and me at home and wanted to inspect things.”
“What?!”
“Yeah and I wouldn’t have opened the door but they wouldn’t go away. But when he started his act or whatever it was, I acted all prissy and said that Mom and Dad said strangers weren’t allowed in the house cause they could be one of them insurrectionists like we saw on the news. And to prove we weren’t that type of person we’d given the old air gun we used to have for raccoons to that charity that had been giving out food vouchers for guns and we even donated the food vouchers. And could I please have his card so I could leave it for my parents so they could show it to the cops ‘cause you know some of the nosey neighbors we had with all of their security cameras and stuff was taking pictures right now and I didn’t want to get in trouble for talking to a stranger even if it was a stranger from the government.”
Mitch was snorting and laughing. “Girl you are too much. I take it Dale was there somewhere?”
“Yeah. Hiding in the hallway and doing just about what you are doing right now. Don’t spill your coffee, I’m trying only to make half a pot today.” When he nodded I said, “So, no more wasting fuel?”
Mitch nodded. “Just don’t want another day like yesterday. I say we stay around the farm today. I’ll cultivate the garden rows, try and save some hoeing that way, spend some time with the animals and I’ll check the fences around here. That’ll give you time to run some things off your list. When I take breaks, I’ll mark the places on a map I know of that are within sane distance for bothering with and then I’ll figure the best route and unless something comes up today that just has to be done tomorrow, we’ll throw a picnic lunch in the truck and spend some time running from place to place to see if it is even worth trying to salvage beyond that point.”
I thought about it while I started forking my breakfast in my mouth. “Unless something is ready for harvest in the gardens that I’m not expecting, I don’t see a problem with your plan.”
“Good enough,” he said while he started eating as well.
Long and short of it is that most people hadn’t stored much in their hunting cabins and “second homes.” There were two places that were the exception to that. First place didn’t look like much more than a hunting camp and if I hadn’t nearly fallen through the floor in the lean-to tacked onto the back of the place we never would have found it.
“What in the hell? You okay Nann?”
I wound up on my butt to keep from going through the wood floor that was in actuality something like a reverse attic pull down.
“I twisted my foot but the pinch is already going away. Why would someone put a basement outside?”
Mitch had managed to pry up the door where it had sunk – carpenter ants had gotten into the wood pile and chewed on the lean to’s framing as well as the floor joist the “floor door” was attached to. When I stepped on it – and yeah, I’m not exactly Thumbelina – the joist gave way enough that I’m glad I’m faster on my feet than most “fluffy” girls are. Though come to think of it I’m not nearly as “fluffy” as I used to be. I still check my weight and that hasn’t changed, but I guess my muscles must be bigger. I’ll never be a stick figure though so I’ve tried not to worry about it and get vain.
“Mitch? See anything?”
“My flashlight isn’t strong enough. And I ain’t walking down them stairs until I’ve got a better idea of the shape they are in. You’re strong. You ain’t strong enough to haul me up if I take a header.”
I stood up and put a little weight on my foot to see how hurt it was. I told him to keep him from noticing it hurt … a lot … by saying, “I’d give it a try but let’s not if I don’t have to. I saw a lantern on a shelf inside. It’s one of the wind-up things. If it works, we can hang it on a string and lower it down.
“Well ain’t you just about smart. Except for trying to hide that limp. Don’t do that sorta thing Nann.”
I sighed. “Don’t treat me like a baby Mitch. And you know I’m not the princess type. If it hurts too bad to get around on I’ll tell you. Just don’t be like Dale.”
“Dale huh. I thought he and you adventured all the time.”
“Truthfully? He is a better than decent big brother but he’d start treating me like a girl at the most inconvenient times.”
Mitch chuckled, “He whut?”
“We were hiking one time and had some younger guys along that were training for Philmont and …”
“What’s Philmont?”
“Ranch out west that the Scouts own and use as a high adventure camp. You go out and spend a week or so and hike and primitive camp … most treks are 50 to 75 miles in length but we were on a special trek of 120 miles and …”
“A hundred and twenty miles?! Uncle John OK’d this?!”
“Relax. Dad is a chauvinist but not an unreasonable one.”
Mitch snorted. “What about Aunt Dina?”
I shrugged. “I know. But go figure. She was okay with it so long as Dale was going. She and Dad had a lot of dates planned for curriculum fairs and … uh …”
“Uh what?”
“It was that summer that you, Kermit, and Jaeson worked for Uncle Hy while you were off school … I think it was right before you enlisted. You would have been okay, but Mom was real leery of me being up here with Kermit and Jaeson.”
“Oh. Oooooh. You mean she didn’t like Kermit and Jaeson.”
“Not exactly. Just their mom wasn’t exactly subtle and had upset her. Ms. Sarah had been hinting around about having Dale come court Rebecca for months but Dale didn’t want anything to do with it … not to mention he thought it was plenty gross because Rebecca is our double second cousin or something screwy like that, although I think that was just an excuse ‘cause Rebecca wasn’t the good girl Ms. Sarah thought she was if you know what I mean.” I peeked and could see that he did and I kept going to keep me from wondering just how he knew what I meant. “Well next in line was Kermit and Jaeson and she told Mom that she was looking to arrange a nice girl for one or the other of them to court when they got out of college and did Mom know any. But not me. I was too ‘rough and tumble’ for her boys. If Ms. Sarah hadn’t been such a bigwig in the local home school groups Mom would have made a big stink out of what she considered an insult. Instead she turned it into a compliment and said that she was hoping I wouldn’t get married as young as she was looking for because she was wanting a real man to notice me and not just a boy and that she wanted me ready and strong because life wasn’t all games and … I can’t remember what all was said.”
“You ain’t saying that Sarah said that in front of you are you?” Mitch asked like he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like my answer.
I grinned. “Like I was a piece of furniture.”
“What are you smiling about girl?! And why didn’t Aunt Dina take her head off?!”
I smiled. “Relax. Mom did something even better. She might have been on the fence about me being in Ventures and hanging around with Dale so much up to that point, but she never complained … not so long as I learned the things that Grammy taught me and wasn’t a Drama Queen and didn’t give them any heartburn. Not to mention I heard her and Dad going on about it one night. Mom said, ‘Just who does Sarah think she is criticizing my daughter when hers might be lucky if she has two braincells to rub together on a good day. If that girl ever opened her mouth all you would be able to hear was an echo. Nannette is strong and confident and its going to stay that way.’ And more blah, blah, parental unit blah. It was kinda cool.”
After Mitch got over his surprise he said, “You know, I think I can see Aunt Dina saying something just like that. So Miss Strong and Confident, think you can find that lantern and prove that ankle is walkable?”