Sunday, March 29, 1998 - Keith's New Job and Mama's New Teeth

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This week Keith started working full-time for my nephew, David Walker, who owns Walker Construction. His other boss, who owns Platte Valley Precast, was running low on work, since it is somewhat seasonal. The Walkers make poured basements--that is, they set up forms in the hole dug for the basement, then pour in the cement. Sometimes they make poured walls, and they hire a friend to pump the cement up into the forms with his pump truck. That’s how the walls for the school were made. Annette’s father laid the brick on the outside. He’s quite skilled, and does many artistic, original creations in his work.

David has gotten himself quite a reputation around these parts for his fast, accurate work; and they get jobs within a 150-mile radius. His younger brother, Robert, is his first assistant. Last week, in addition to some jobs in the Country Club Hills area north of Columbus, they also had a job in Fremont, about 45 miles east.

Keith was riding with David and some of his coworkers when David's mother-in-law called him on his cell phone to tell him his brother-in-law and wife had just had a new baby, so he would not be coming to work that morning.

“Where are you?” Sarah asked her son-in-law.

David glanced down, tipping his head and pursing his lips consideringly. “Oh, about ten inches from the steering wheel,” he replied.

Tuesday, my mother had all her top teeth removed and two on the bottom. The top plate was put in immediately. She’s doing remarkably well, although she can’t really chew yet, so we run everything through the blender for her. My sister stayed with her the first night, then Hannah, and then Dorcas for the next two nights. Last night Mama insisted nobody needed to stay with her.

“I’m just fine!” she declared.

Tuesday night she had some trouble with her mouth bleeding, but she, with my sister’s help, was able to get it stopped. She’s been quite weak, but yesterday she was trotting around all over the house, thinking she needed to fix Dorcas some breakfast--in spite of the fact that Dorcas was supposed to be taking care of Grandma--trying to clean the house, and such like.

I’ve finished Lydia’s dress, another one for Victoria in coordinating pink/green/ yellow calicos, done the alterations on several suits and dresses, and decorated a couple of hats for Hester and Lydia. I sewed two large re-embroidered appliques on Dorcas’ pink silk suit, then spent one whole day sewing pearls and sequins on them. I tried on a dress I’d bought from J.C.Penney’s last fall, which I’d been saving for Easter. Good grief!--I look like a short, pudgy aardvark in it. I let Dorcas try it on. She came marching out to show me, looking not quite as bad as I had, but not too swell, either. She reached up, got a good grip on the shoulders, and lifted them--and the entire dress, along with them--right up past her earlobes.

Holding it at just about nose level, which put the waist in approximately the right place, she enthused, “It just fits!” and then, after a short pause, “Ya got some really taaaaall shoulder pads?” haha

We trotted that dress right over to my tall niece, posthaste.

We got shoes for Dorcas and Joseph, and now only need a shirt for Larry, a belt for Hester, and socks for Caleb. Only two more weeks!

Remember Victoria had a high temperature a week and a half ago? Well, Monday she broke out with some type of a rash; it looked like one of the minor measles, maybe roseola or something. Tuesday it was fading, and by Wednesday, no sign of it could be seen. Usually by the time a child breaks out, they’re feeling better, and that seemed to be the case with Victoria.

Robins, doves, and house finches are back, singing like everything; and juncos and chickadees and white-crowned sparrows are passing through. Every night, we hear flocks of geese flying over.

Wednesday, Larry went to Omaha to put a starter on a Suburban for some customers of ours, the Charbonneaus. This was the Suburban into which he put the Cummins diesel; we took the vehicle to the people last summer one day. The woman’s father is the owner and builder of Omaha’s two largest malls, and they live in a big mansion on some wooded hills of far western Omaha. They show horses all over the country and in Canada, too. They also raise appaloosa Great Danes. These dogs are huge, I tell you. I mean, they’re humungous. Luckily, the breed is fairly gentle, and they usually like people.

When Larry arrived, the biggest Dane, one which they give free rein all around their large estate, greeted him nicely. The man, Bill, invited Larry into the garage. As soon as Larry set foot inside, the Dane took exception and bit him on the ankle! Luckily, he had on boots. (That is, Larry had on boots; not the Dane.)

“Hey!” yelled Larry, and the dog let go.

Bill laughed a bit sheepishly. “He’s never done that before!” he said.

Later, Larry went to Hansen’s Truck and Salvage Yard for parts for their Suburban and ours. He found a neat little switchboard for ours, which he later hooked up to some of the multitudes of wires so that some more of that indirect lighting in the ceiling works. It looks pretty neat! We only need to find a few more switches, now, some of which will turn on the heat in the passenger’s seat. Larry calls it my ‘electric chair’.

In the meanwhile, Bill was cleaning the dogs’ cages. He accidentally let the big ankle-sampler into another big male dog’s cage--and a raging dogfight ensued. He got them apart eventually by using the garden hose.

Directly Larry returned. He climbed out of his pickup. Around the corner loped Ankle Chomper, friendly as ever---all covered with cuts, and bleeding. The Charbonneaus were calling the vet, trying to find one that would make a house visit. They couldn’t. So, while Larry worked on their Suburban, he let them borrow his pickup to take the dog to the vet to get all stitched back together again.

Thursday it was 74°, so we got the strollers out of the garage, and Hannah and I took Caleb and Victoria for a walk.

One night Hannah was doing her homework. Caleb sat beside her, looking at his and Lydia’s magazine, Your Big Backyard. It’s all full of animal pictures and stories, and it’s put out by National Wildlife Corporation. We get Ranger Rick for Joseph and Hester. Caleb kept showing Hannah pictures.

“Hannah! Look at this ugly bug!” or “Hannah! Read this to me!” or “Hannah! What kind of animal is this?!”

Hannah, busy writing, muttered, “I’m . . . doing . . . my . . .”---

Caleb, looking earnestly up into her face with wide blue-gray eyes, finished the sentence for her: “Homework!” and, without a pause, “Hannah! Look at this!”

Hannah, of course, burst out laughing, and Caleb looked up quickly to see what was so funny.

One time about a year ago, Caleb was brushing Hannah’s hair. It was full of static electricity.

“Hannah!” exclaimed Caleb, “Your hair is swizzy!”

This reminded us of the time Lydia, age two, was brushing Hannah’s hair. “Goodness! your hair is Frisbee!” said she.

Yesterday Caleb was looking out the front door, watching all the cars full of teenagers arriving at our neighbor’s house.

Finally he asked, “How come the people who don’t go to our church never wash their cars?”

Now that’s what you call ‘biased’!

Last night I made three deep-dish apple crumb pies. There is only one left. My oven sure is handy, allowing me to bake all three at once. And they all brown evenly, too.

The More-Door Ford is now residing in the paint booth, eagerly awaiting its first coat of paint--hopefully tomorrow..... always depending on how many other customers Larry has, of course.

And that’s this week’s news.

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P.S.: My mother had the stitches taken out of her mouth this morning, and everything is fine. She says it hardly hurts.

P.S.S.: The crewcab now has its dark teal stripes! And the silver stripe is soon to follow.