Monday, September 13, 1999 - They Like Us Because We Don't Stomp

On Labor Day, Larry thought he needed to work at least part of the day, because of missing a couple days of work the previous week. At 3:00 p.m. he came home, and we left for Muskatine Lake, north of Stanton. As I mentioned in a previous post, I have no idea how to spell the name of that lake: Muskatine? Maskathine? Meskathine? In the little town of Stanton stands a sign directing us to “Muskatine”. A mile north of town, alongside the road, is a Department-of-Roads sign which reads, “Meskathine”. But the carved wooden arch beside one of the entrances to the lake spells it, “Maskathine”.


It was a beautiful day. Unfortunately, there were a number of undesirables at the playground, cursing and swearing--in English, of all things. They looked quite capable of swearing in another language, which would have suited us better.  I don’t want my children to hear such language--but they did, before I could do anything about it. We went away from the playground and didn’t come back, instead going out onto the fishing pier to be with Larry and some of the other children, who were already fishing. Another man was there, too, and I knew he wouldn’t appreciate it if we scared all the fish straight down the stream into the Missouri River. So, before walking down the wooden walkway over the water and out onto the pier, I told the littles, “We must be very quiet, because if we make a lot of noise, all the fish will run away.”

Victoria nodded her head in solemn agreement. “Swim, Mama,” she said.

I stood corrected: the fish would swim away.

The man on the jetty looked around apprehensively as we came. We quietly seated ourselves, and Victoria pulled little cups, saucers, bowls, and silverware out of the bag Dorcas had brought for her. She arranged them all neatly, then began feeding her dolly. Caleb and Lydia each picked up a fishing pole, cast a line out into the lake, and stood calmly.

The man looked at Caleb’s line, which was too slack. “Do you want me to help you?” he asked.

Caleb, always a friendly sort, smiled at him. “Okay,” he responded.

The man showed him how to reel it in just a little bit more. “There you go,” he said.

Caleb grinned.

A few minutes later, the man turned to me. “You homeschool, don’t you?” he inquired.

“No,” I responded, a little surprised, “but our children attend a church school.”

“I thought so,” he said. He smiled. “Most kids would be tearing around this deck, frightening all the fish to the other end of the lake!”

He turned to Lydia. “How would you like a minnow on that line?”

Larry and the children were using worms that another man had given them when he left, and they weren’t having any better success than the previous fisherman.

Lydia tipped her head consideringly. She looked at me and raised an eyebrow. I smiled at her. “Okay,” she told the man.

She reeled her line in, and he showed her how to hook the minnow on. She tossed the line back out, and before she knew it, she was pulling in a bluegill. It wasn’t big enough to keep, but it was a fish, just the same. Within the next half an hour, she’d pulled in three more. The man put minnows on all our lines. Teddy caught a little catfish. Then, saying it was time for him to go, the man gave us his entire bucket of minnows, wished us a good time fishing, and departed.

“He liked us because I didn’t stomp,” Caleb informed us.

We didn’t catch anything worth saving that day, but, nevertheless, it was an enjoyable day. A man nearby pulled in a big catfish, about eighteen inches long. We saw blue herons, ducks, and many songbirds. A row of bushes near the lake was chock full of baby English sparrows, squawking and flapping, trying to get their parents to feed them.

Before we knew it, the sun was sinking toward the horizon, and it was time to eat and go home, for Tuesday was Hester, Lydia, and Caleb’s first day of school. Larry started the cookstove, and we put our big pan on it, filled it with water, and threw in lots of corn on the cob. Ten minutes later, I checked the water. It was warm.

Ten minutes after that, I checked the water. It was warmer.

Another ten minutes passed. I checked the water. It was quite nice and warm. The sun went behind the trees on the edge of the hill.

I checked the water in ten minutes. It was almost hot. And it was almost dark. I finally started pulling ears of corn from the water. They were piping hot, and we covered them with butter and ate them…but they tasted rather raw. Mooo.

I think I’ll wait a while before I have corn of any sort again.

Anyway, the apples were good. And just before Larry had come home from his shop, a customer had given him a Hoagie sandwich. He’d brought it along, so we divided it into eight small slices and everyone had a bite or two. It wasn’t enough; we were still hungry. So we stopped at Casey’s General Store in Stanton and bought everybody an Old Home individual fruit pie, and sun chips and crackers. By this time, Victoria, who hadn’t had a nap all day long, was sound asleep. But the child’s ears were still in good working order…

We no sooner started ripping open our tarts, than Victoria, who was lying in Dorcas’ arms, said in a groggy sort of a voice, eyes still shut, “Can I have some?” But she didn’t move a muscle.

We tried to be very quiet. Nevertheless, she heard our packages rattling and again muttered, “I want some.”

Since she still wasn’t moving, we just attempted to be quieter than ever. But she said, a little louder, “Dorcas! I really want some, too!”

“Well, sit her up and give her some!” I advised Dorcas, laughing.

Dorcas helped her sit up. But Victoria’s eyes remained shut, and she teetered this way and that, poor little head bobbing.

“You’d better lay her back down,” I told Dorcas. By this time, the littles were in silent gales of mirth at their little sister, who was evidently talking in her sleep. Dorcas carefully laid her back down, and there wasn’t another peep out of her, all the way home.

Hannah, Bobby, and Joseph spent the day at the Strategic Air Command museum between Lincoln and Omaha, and also the Wildlife Safari.

One afternoon, Joseph decided that Caleb was old enough to learn to ride his bike, so, to Caleb’s delight, he set to removing the training wheels.

“Do you think I’m almost six?!” asked Caleb in gleeful excitement.

When the training wheels were done away with, Caleb climbed on, and, with Joseph’s help, made his way down the sidewalk…once…halfway back… And, suddenly, he was riding. Off he went, leaving Joseph in the dust. If he wouldn’t have acquired a bad case of giggles, he might’ve continued for a long time. By the next afternoon, he’d learned how to start himself without help…but he also had a crash in the church parking lot.

“I’m going to have to have my training wheels put back on,” he said with a resigned sigh as I affixed a bandage onto his arm.

“No, you’re doing just fine,” I dissented, “but gravel is still too difficult for you, that’s all.”

“Oh.” He nodded agreeably, then trotted back outside to resume the bike riding, sans training wheels.

Victoria noticed Hannah drinking from a little can of V-8 cocktail juice. “Hannah,” she said solemnly, “that’s Teddy’s.” She looked somber. “Can I have some?”

Tuesday was the first half day of school for Hester, Lydia, and Caleb. They came home in jolly good spirits, totally pleased with life in general, and school in particular.

That day, Hannah made squash bread with our favorite zucchini bread recipe. Mmm, yummy.

We have now sold our recalcitrant teal green computer to that friend of ours who once tried to fix it; so if my new one has a bad crash, I’m done for, kaput.

Ah, well; if I was relegated to that poor old thing, I’d probably be done for, already.

One evening, our bookworm, Hester, was looking for a book to read. Dorcas helpfully told her, “There’s a book in my forehead.”

Hester promptly burst out laughing, and Dorcas looked surprised, wondering what was so funny. She finally realized what she’d said… She’d meant to say, ‘headboard’.

One day Hannah was hanging up blouses and skirts in the hall closet. Victoria has only known that coats hang in there. She stared. Then, “Heyyy. That’s not to put!” she protested to Hannah.

The days have been beautiful lately, sunny and bright, with a slight briskness that says autumn is coming. We’ve gone for a walk almost every day. Hannah and Caleb usually walk with me, while I push Victoria in the stroller. In the middle of one walk, Caleb’s legs got tired, and he was getting out of breath. We put him into the stroller right behind Victoria, with his legs lopped over the sides. They both thought this was extremely funny, and went on giggling for a block and a half; after a little while, Caleb felt like walking again, to my relief. Whew! He’s not very big, but he’s no lightweight!

Keith and Esther came over after church Wednesday night, bringing Teddy a pile of suits that Keith had grown out of. Just what Teddy needed--we’d been planning to hunt for a suit for him in Norfolk or Grand Island soon.

Thursday evening we had our Jr. Choir picnic, from 6:30 to 8:30 p.m. All the parents brought some sort of food, so that we wound up with quite a variety: hot dogs, salad, fruit, all types of dessert… And then we discovered that the Park Service people had removed all the grills--there was no place to roast the hot dogs. A friend went home to retrieve her outdoor grill. After she returned, Larry and our friend, Carey Gene, set to cooking the hot dogs. About the time they were done, and I was ready to start doling them out, we discovered… nobody had brought any ketchup, mustard, or relish. Martha Haddock rushed off to get it.

I went on distributing the hot dogs, telling the children, “Now, when the ketchup and mustard arrives, you can just swallow down a spoonful of it, and it’ll go right on down and land on your hot dog!” This was met with much laughter. But the condiments arrived in time for most of them, and everything else proceeded properly and in order.

Victoria was busy playing with all the children, Hannah or Dorcas supervising, when I decided she probably needed to go to restroom. I went to get her. “Do you need to go to restroom?” I asked her quietly.

“Yes, I REALLY have been!” she exclaimed, grabbing my hand. On the way to the restrooms she asked, “But are they clean?--’cause dirty ones are really icky.” She rumpled her nose. “And clean ones are cleaner!” (That’s the aftereffects of too many restrooms and outhouses on the road and in parks.)

I finally reupholstered the pad for our ‘new’ (old) rattan chair in white brocade, and then, using the chair for one of our ‘props’, I took Dorcas’ senior pictures at Pawnee Park and had them developed at the One-Hour lab at Walgreens. They turned out very good; Dorcas is pleased…and so am I. I took 47 pictures of her, and ordered quadruples. They were having a special on doubles; they were accepting Hy-Vee grocery store’s ‘coupon card’; and we get a 10% discount because we are listed as a business. So, for 188 4x6-inch pictures, we paid $19.40. Pretty good deal, aye?

Hannah has been enjoying teaching the sixth-grade reading class. Thursday evening she was busy checking papers, often stopping to read some of the answers to us. Children can sure come up with some funny answers!

Susan, my niece, still calls for Dorcas most days a little after 3:30 p.m. Just about the time she thinks she is getting better and will soon be ‘over the hump’, she has another setback. She must stay off her feet most of the day. The baby is not due until late December or early January.

Our Schwan man usually comes every other Thursday. But this week he was delayed, on account of Labor Day. The children were all disappointed; alternate Thursdays are considered Schwan pizza days, around this neck of the woods. But he arrived, at long last, Friday afternoon. I got several boxes of pizza, to everyone’s delight.

Friday night we went to Walgreens to pick up Caleb’s medicine. It was $32 for Zyrtec syrup for allergies, and $48 for a Vanceril inhaler. Good grief.

That night after everyone went to bed, I was typing away, and Larry was snoozing in the recliner chair nearby. I kept hearing a strange, muffled racket, and I assumed it was Larry trying out a new saw on his logs, or something… But when he wiggled around in an irritable manner and said, “Where is that mouse?” in a muzzy voice, I decided it was time to investigate. I rose silently from my chair, crept through the living room and down the hallway… I eventually came to a stop in front of my material closet. He was surely in there, munching loudly on something; and, whatever it was, I didn’t appreciate it, not one little bit. I am rather protective of all that material, you see.

On the other hand, perhaps he was installing a new shelf. If he was, he was definitely using hammer and tongs to do so. I opened the door and was greeted with…dead silence. I leaned down and picked up a piece of material that had fallen to the floor.

The mouse was under it.

He jumped straight into the air in fright, arriving at an altitude of two feet before I could get my nose off that exact same altitude, so mouse and I looked each other eye to eye for a fleeting second before he had better ideas and headed earthward again. Upon his arrival back down on floor level, he raced madly under my hope chest, where I hadn’t a prayer of getting him back out.

Larry’s side hurt him worse and worse, it seems, all week long, probably because he has kept it irritated by leaning over sanding on vehicles, and also by sneezing. That last, because the pollen count has been high, and he has allergies. Such troubles! He finally bought himself a velcro belt to go around waist and ribs, which helped.

Keith went to the doctor in David City Saturday morning. He learned that the reason he had a fever and such a sore throat was because he had strep throat. The doctor gave him amoxicillan. If he hadn’t have been better today, he was to have returned and had additional tests run; the doctor was afraid it was mononucleosis. But today he was able to go to work. He missed several days last week, and was getting concerned, because his house payment will be due in a few days. They just recently paid property taxes, and were running low on funds.

Saturday night we practiced with the Sr. Choir. There is one drawback to playing the piano, rather than having my niece Susan play: I don’t get to sing in the choir. No matter; I enjoy playing even more.  I’m like the dog in the manger, and want to do both. We finally settled on the song, Leave Your Heavy Burden at the Cross. Our ladies’ quartet, a double-sisters group, sang In Jesus. That is one of my favorite times of the week: Saturday night practice.

Lawrence and Norma came for dinner Sunday afternoon, and Bobby, too. Keith and Esther didn’t, because Keith was still sick. Norma chose her favorite pictures of Dorcas.

Last night our poor Aleutia was plumb out of dog food--and we were nearly plumb out of cash. We scrounged around and came up with two dollars and a small handful of change. We advanced to the grocery store. Larry went in to get it; I waited in the car, since I had a bean crosswise in my big toe. He managed to find a bag of Kennel Ration on sale…and wound up with just enough change left over for one candy bar--Hershey’s with Almonds. He came back out; he started getting into the car…and then I noticed the candy bar.

“Share!” I demanded.

He handed me the bag of dog food. “Sure!” he said generously, “You can have all you want!”