By last Monday, Teddy and Joseph were the only school children in the house, and Teddy didn’t have to go to school in the afternoon. He went to the shop, instead. The littles immediately headed outside to play, for it was a beautiful, sunny day. About a quarter after five, I took Victoria for a walk. By then, dark clouds were starting to roll in, and not too long after I got home it rained.
When I came back, I discovered Larry mowing John and Lura Kay’s (my brother-in-law and sister) lawn with an orange diesel riding lawn tractor. The tractor is one Keith has been drooling over, and they are trying it out. He has purchased it now.
That evening, we ordered pizza from Papa Murphy’s Pizza Place. The pizza is not baked; we bake it ourselves in our own oven. The dough didn’t get done, and it was soggy. Yuck, bleah.
During supper, Joseph described for us the ‘music’ he had heard in a parts store somewhere: “It sounded like a busload of chickens that got hit by a train, with some cannibals screaming every now and then for good measure.”
About the time we finished eating, the sun came out. I had just typed in an email I was sending, “I wonder if there’s a rainbow?” when Hester came dashing in the door calling, “Mama! There’s a rainbow!!”
I grabbed my camera and rushed outside. Sure enough, a complete rainbow stretched right over our house. It was so pretty. But it was raining, so I hopped into Keith’s pickup, in which Esther was sitting, in front of the school, so as to keep my camera from getting wet, and took pictures from the window.
At a fabric store in Lincoln, Hannah found some material almost the same color as her wedding dress. I covered it with chiffon, and it matched the gown better than we expected. She also went to the Salvation Army, where she got quite a few nice clothes, including one for Hester to wear to the Fourth-of-July picnic. I will have very little sewing to do for the picnic, thank goodness!
Monday evening, the littles were watching Victoria’s video, the first part of which is all about fire stations, firetrucks, firemen, and fires. Every fireman that dashes past the camera catches Caleb and Victoria’s attention.
Hester, Lydia, and Caleb were all wrapped up in fleece blankets, because they had just finished their baths, and one (or two) of their siblings had used up the hot water, and the water they wound up with was something other than warm. Poor little frozen urchins! Soon the section about firefighting was nearly done, and Victoria announced, “It’s almost to the oranges!” The next part of the video is about an orange orchard, and we follow the process through the picking of the oranges to the making of orange juice, and everything else conceivable.
Victoria collected herself a blanket from her room and put it around her. She asked Lydia, “Do you want to wrap me up like you? ’Cause I’m almost unwrapped.”
So Lydia snuggled the blanket around her better, and tucked it under her chin. Victoria beamed at her sister. “It’s too bad I’m not cold,” she remarked, making Lydia cackle suddenly and unexpectedly in her face.
Tad came along, weaved his way through the blanket pow-wow, looked up into Caleb’s face, and asked loudly, “Meeeeeeww??!”
“Oh, Tad!” replied Caleb sympathetically, and cuddled him into his blanketed lap. Tad curled up happily, eyes squinty in contentment. It was almost time to give Victoria a bath and tuck her into bed, and then send the littles off to bed, too.
Teddy and Joseph, who are probably the Hot Water Hogs of Heitendweit House, had taken themselves off to bed some earlier, after admonishing the rest of us that the pizza in the refrigerator was theirs, for lunch the next day.
We all smiled at them mysteriously.
They turned to me, since everyone around here knows that I am more to be trusted with the preserving of their food than the rest of the tribe.
“Mama,” said Joseph, “Can you make sure nobody eats our pizza?”
“Sure,” I said, smiling a smug little smile.
“And don’t you eat it, either!” Teddy and Joseph both ordered me simultaneously.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I replied.
They gazed at me suspiciously for a time; then, having no other option, they sighed resignedly and headed for the stairs. Just before they went around the last corner, they turned as one and looked at me again. I grinned at them and waved. Grinning back in apparent relief, they disappeared down the steps.
Victoria, noticing that Lydia was removing her blanket, asked, “Are you just about warm, Lydia?”
“Yes,” answered Lydia, folding the blanket and laying it aside.
Victoria followed suit, tossing hers aside. “That’s good,” she said, “’Cause I was really, really hot!”
Tuesday evening I took Victoria for a walk. Caleb and Lydia rode their bikes ahead of us. They stop at the corners, waiting till I get closer, watching behind them to see when I point left, right, or straight ahead. Then off they go pell-mell, as fast as they can pedal, to the next corner. Once upon a time, about three years ago, Caleb was in the lead, on his bike, still sporting training wheels. The block we were on happened to have all the corners rounded; so there were no stopping points, as near as he could tell. Consequently he wound up going all the way around the block without stopping. But a few minutes later, he slowed down in consternation when he realized that, for some strange, unknown reason, we were ahead of him, rather than behind him!
That night we made a big circuit, coming back to Bobby and Hannah’s house, where they were arranging furniture, and installing their new microwave that Sears delivered in the morning, along with their refrigerator, stove, and dishwasher. When we went in, the dishwasher was running--they were making sure this one had no leaks such as the old one had had.
Bobby held up the plastic-wrapped instructions. “These are the cleanest instructions that ever came with a dishwasher,” he informed me.
I looked at him blankly.
He grinned. “I forgot to remove them from the dishwasher before I started the first washing cycle,” he explained.
That night, Larry brought the big forklift home from the shop, so that he could move the very large logs on the back driveway. We acquired the wood when a neighbor cut down a tree. Knowing we had a fireplace, he offered us the wood, and we gladly accepted. But did you know that really tall trees have lots of wood? Well, they do. Larry and Teddy both have been sawing away at it anytime their spare minutes and their want-to coincided, and they’ve made quite a pile of cut wood in the corner of the yard, but hardly a dent, it seems, in the wood that still needs to be cut.
Sometimes, because we don’t have a large enough water heater that everyone can take showers and baths one after another before we run out of hot water, two kiddos use the same bath water. Tonight Victoria took her turn after Lydia, who has a penchant for filling the tub nearly to the brim. I tilted her back to rinse her hair.
“Whew!” she exclaimed, a trifle alarmed, “When the tub is so flooded, I float!” Her eyes got wider. “I won’t get drownded, will I?” she queried, very softly, staring up into my face.
I assured her that she was quite safe. I got her out of the tub and dried her off.
As I put her nightgown on her, she asked, “Does my hair smell really good?”
“Yes,” I replied, “it sure does.”
She looked at me. “But you didn’t bury your nose in it!” said she.
I obligingly buried my nose in it.
“YES!” I told her adamantly. “It really smells good!!”
“Hee hee hee!” said Victoria.
There is a 90-year-old lady who lives next to Hannah’s house. She is thrilled to pieces that Hannah is moving in, and often gives her a hug. Tonight Hannah heard her calling for the neighbor lady across the street, because she needed help turning her air conditioner off. She can’t see very well, and she didn’t know which way to turn the knob, or which knob it was. Hannah went to help her. Upon completion of the simple task, the lady gave Hannah a big hug and a kiss, along with profuse thanks for helping her. Doesn’t your heart go out to older people, who don’t seem to have many to help them, and who in some circumstances are quite helpless?
Dorcas is crocheting a dress for Danica Jo from variegated yarn, and Lydia has been working on an afghan with brightly colored yarn. Hannah is still sewing pearls on Victoria’s dress.
Lydia is playing the organ as I write; she is playing a song called Oh, How I Love Jesus. And Victoria is doodling on the piano--but, all of a sudden, just a minute ago, she found the notes Lydia was playing, and played a whole phrase, right on tune. I whirled around to see just who that was--and I couldn’t believe it was my little three-year-old, actually playing that song! She saw me looking, and got all embarrassed, and missed the next few notes.
Thursday, Nebraska Furniture Mart brought the rest of Bobby and Hannah’s furniture; they told us yesterday they would come any time between 10:00 and 12:00. They came at noon, of course. They delivered a coffee table, end tables, and a bookcase.
Hannah had Tad with her for a half-hour or so, while she waited for the furniture to arrive. Once, while he was outside, something spooked him--and up a tree he went. So there he was, stranded up the tree, seemingly (in the manner of all cats everywhere) unable to come back down. The tree’s lowest branch is above Hannah’s head. Hannah tried to coax him down. He didn’t coax. She went downstairs to get a ladder...lugged it up the steps...bonked herself in the head with it on the way out the door...carried it outside...and discovered she couldn’t get it close enough to the tree to serve the purpose anyway, because the ground was too uneven.
So up the tree sat Tad, saying in his best woebegone baby tones, “Meewwww!”
A small neighbor girl, approximately four years old, gazed into the tree and repeated, at each little baby meewww, “I wuv kittens!”
A little boy, Parker, about five, came to offer his assistance. “Kittykittykittykittykitty!” he called.
His grandmother, who lives across the street, admonished him, “No, you let her (meaning Hannah) call him.”
Having said that, she contradicted her own advice, went under the tree, and called in her loud, strident voice, “Herekittykittykittykittykittykittykittykittykittykittykittykitty,” and “Come down! Come down! Come down!”
Tad looked at her with interest and stayed put. Eventually, the kitten, responding to Hannah’s coaxing, tried to come down. He got off the branch he was on--and then he lost his grip and began sliding backwards down the tree trunk, claws extended, ears pulled back in fright. He finally got low enough that the neighbor lady was able to reach him. She plucked him off the tree--with a lot less gentleness than our kitten is accustomed to, making him cry in alarm--and handed him to Hannah.
One Operation Kitten Rescue, complét.
A few more notes on last Friday’s Spring Program:
There is a little girl in the kindergarten class who looks to be about six inches shorter than the others. She looks like a little china doll. But!--little china dolls don’t have itchy noses! Just before their song began, she wiggled her nose around with all her might and main, making us feel exactly like we should give her a handful of alfalfa pellets; and then, after singing a verse or two--and she always sings with all her heart, looking so extraordinarily cute--she suddenly swiped her nose with vigor, starting with the tips of her fingers, and working her way well up past the elbow.
I think she was working on the premise, “If you do it fast, no one will see.” Well, she did it fast, but there was so much territory to cover…
We saw.
Children are so funny… and she’s so cute… but her nose did itch.
One of the big boys, rather nervous about singing in public, sang in several boys’ groups. This boy sings high tenor, and has a very pretty voice. He carried his singing off with aplomb, but for the first entire stanza of several of the songs, he ironed the front of his suit with one hand. Finally, he got those troublesome wrinkles subdued, and tucked his fingers well up into his sleeve, and let his poor suit be.
And then there’s Little Joe with the Slide Trombone. Well, actually, his name is Jeremy, and he plays a trumpet. But he’s rather small, and the trumpet is as big as he is. Well, almost. And the sound is definitely as big as he is! And he’s totally hidden behind the music on his lyre. But didn’t he do a good job!
(For the unenlightened, a lyre is one of those people who refuse to tell the tryth.)
Maria, one of the little kindergartners, was trying her bestest not to smile {she was looking at Keith, her uncle} while she was singing. But her dimples kept twinkling at the sides of her cheeks, no matter how she tried.
Have you ever had unbaked chocolate cookies? They’re really yummy. One of my favorites. Part of the ingredients is cooked on the stove, then all the ingredients are smooshed together, plop-plunked onto waxed paper, and then you can’t stand it any longer, and eat them before they’re cooled and burn your tongue. Well, okay, maybe you don’t; but I do.
When the Ladies of the Kitchen sent a big box of cookies home with us, would you believe, none of the urchins around this joint noticed those unbaked cookies amongst all the others--and I managed to get them all????!!!!!!! Yup, all three of ’em. (Don’t tell anybody, please. Shhh…)
We were telling a friend of ours not to eat the science experiments in the refrigerator in the basement of the church.
“Are they alive?” he asked.
“Well,” I replied, “they keep trying to get out…and the fuzzier they get, the livelier they are...sooo... maybe they are.”
Hester was getting something out of our refrigerator the other day. She opened the bottom drawer…put in her hand…and then jerked it back out with a screech, crying loudly, “I just ran into somebody’s science project!”
It will soon be Hester’s birthday. She is getting anxious…and Lydia’s is on the same day as Hannah’s wedding…and, just a week later, on the Fourth of July, Dorcas will be 18. “The days fly apace…”
When I was in the Columbus hospital when Dorcas was born, there was a whole volley of horrid, crabby nurses--and one cute little redhead, with very curly hair, who was ever so nice. I really liked her. When they took me back to my room, they (meaning, the crabby nurses) instructed me to stay in bed, and not to get out without calling for help. But, of course, I neither wanted nor needed help, and I was prepared to hop straight out of bed the minute they exited my room. I waited until their footsteps died away in the hallway, and then I jumped out.
The door opened, and in walked the redheaded nurse. I whirled around and leaped back in bed. And I said, ever and ever so meekly, “Could you please help me out of bed? I want to take a shower.”
She stood there looking at me, bright green eyes a-twinkle, and she said, said she, “Do it yourself.” She turned and went out, pausing just long enough to toss a wink and a grin over her shoulder at me.
When I took Victoria to bed tonight, there was already somebody in her bed: Kitty. Victoria thinks that’s so funny…she wishes Kitty could stay in her room. She likes to hurriedly get into the spot just vacated by the cat, because it’s always nice and warm, even through the comforter. “Kitty makes my bed all cozy!” said Victoria.
Last year, it seemed that a lot of people drowned in Nebraska; and this year, there have already been several drownings. A 48-year-old man drowned in a lake near St. Paul, and a couple of days ago, a 17-year-old boy drowned in Lake Muskatine, where we like to go fishing.
The girls were screaming and begging them to stop, but the boys just laughed. That boat came mighty close to capsizing. The boys finally stopped rocking the boat, picked up the oars, and rowed back to shore.
If any of those girls had ever had any romantic notions about any of those boys, the boys had successfully eradicated the idea. It’s a wonder they didn’t drown.
This week, we received a humungous box from UPS, and High Excitement abounded. Among other things, there was a graduation present for Dorcas.
After putting a few of the things from The Big Box on the table, I went back to the front hall, where the box still sat, to make sure we’d gotten everything out of it. There I discovered Victoria standing calmly in the middle of the box, styrofoam peanuts up to the kneecaps. I pretended not to see her, and delved my hands into the peanuts, saying to anybody who happened to be listening, “Are you sure you found everything?” and then I grabbed Victoria’s toes and yelped, “Oh! You forgot to get these piggies out!”
“Tee hee hee,” giggled Victoria.
I found the other foot. “And you forgot this whole foot, too!” I cried.
“HAHAHAHA!!” laughed Victoria.
Loren and Janice were sick Wednesday, because of the fertilizer the farmers were putting on the fields all around their house, so one of our church members took the service that night.
Susan called at 6:30 asking if I could play the piano, because she wasn’t feeling well, and Danica was sick. The doctor was afraid she had cerebrospinal meningitis, but after giving her some tests, is optimistic she does not. They must wait five days, however, for the tests to come back. How awful, to have that worry about your baby.
One evening the littles were watching an animal video. After seeing some penguins strutting along on an ice shelf, Victoria asked, “Can peengweeens walk just like us?”
Thursday morning Larry headed blithely off to work, thinking that, should the right tank of gas run out, then he could switch to the left tank, in which Teddy had put $10 worth of gas. (Gas is $1.69 here.) The switch is one of those old rocker-type duds--and haven’t we had plenty of experience with those. They ought to be outlawed, and the person who invented them should have their toenails removed--slowly--one at a time.
Well, he ran out of gas... tried to switch--but nothing happened. The left tank was empty, too. This, on account of the fact that, unbeknownst to Larry, there were two holes in the tank that someone had tried--and failed--to patch. So he had to walk the rest of the way to work, about one and a quarter miles. After all, 6:00 a.m. is not a good time to be knocking on people’s doors, asking to use their phone.
Tad was yeowling his head off one morning, so loud and so long that we got worried about him and Hannah took him to the vet. I was afraid he’d swallowed a chicken bone or something, and was in pain. But the vet checked him over and said he was fine. I do hope he can tell… Maybe the silly kitten simply wanted outside, and was practicing his howling. He seems fine now.
Kitty had her stitches removed, too. Kitty has had too many bad experiences, and doesn’t like to go to the vet. Riding in the car frightens her, and she insists on sitting on Hannah’s lap while Hannah drives.
Tad is becoming a real mouser; he’s caught two mice this week.
At Jr. Choir Thursday evening, after singing for half an hour, we played “Categories”, doing ‘fruits and vegetables’. That’s one of the children’s favorite games. One row at a time stands, and, one after another, they say an item from the designated category. If a child names an item that has already been said, or can’t think of one in the allotted time--usually 10 seconds, he must sit down.
We then played a quiz game. I started reading the questions. “These are too, too short for such tall kids!” I exclaimed, making them laugh. “Let’s do it a new way: I will read the answer, and you tell me the question.”
They were all intrigued with this funny way of playing the game. The third answer was “Ham”. It was Seth and Andrew’s turn. I said, “Now, no funny business on this next question.” Everyone laughed. I read the answer: “Ham.”
“Hahahahaha!” said the children.
Seth and Andrew considered their answer. And then Andrew said, “What do you eat for breakfast?”
I promptly pointed at his chair and replied, “That’s it, you’re out, sit down.” He looked surprised and sat. I looked around at the other children and grinned. “Didn’t I warn him?” I asked. They all were laughing and nodding vigorously.
Oh, how I love those children!
One boy’s birthday was the following day, and instead of the usual candy or cookies, he brought deviled eggs to Jr. Choir as treats for everyone. His mother had made so many that she gave me a large platter of them to take home to the rest of the family, who were pleased as punch; they like deviled eggs.
I gave her the album I’d made for them, of all the pictures I took at their farm a week ago Monday--yes, the album I’d planned to save for their Christmas gift. In fact, I’d even written the date in--12-25-00. But I couldn’t wait any longer; I just couldn’t wait! I guess the habits of my family are wearing off on me.
That night, Teddy and Joseph took some friends home after lawn duty, and Joseph brought back a Snickers Blizzard for me. I tell you, I’ve raised these kids of mine right. I ate it ever so secretively, so as not to have to share it (I love Snickers Blizzards)--and I was almost successful, for I only had to share three bites. After I finished it, Victoria put a deviled egg into the cup and was eating it with the plastic spoon.
Suddenly Caleb spotted the Blizzard cup. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “What kind is that?!”
“Egg,” responded Victoria briefly, getting another bite.
Caleb looked amazed. And Victoria was quite startled when everyone guffawed suddenly. Her head jerked up, and she looked around at us, eyes wide, spoon poised in midair.
We watched a video about WWII, when the Nazis were trouncing one European country after another. War is an awful thing. After Holland submitted, Hitler’s troops smashed Rotterdam flat, despite their surrender.
Friday it was raining. Victoria was looking out front door, watching the rain coming down; then she went to my bedroom window, looked out, and announced in great surprise, “It’s raining in our backyard, too!”
A little later, Caleb and Victoria were rushing madly up and down the hall, chasing their big blue ball. I noticed that Caleb was getting winded, and starting to wheeze.
“Caleb and Victoria,” I said, “Quit racing around like maniacs!”
They slowed abruptly, and continued nicely around the corner into the living room.
Then, thinking I was out of earshot, Victoria said in Caleb’s ear, “Okay, Caleb, let’s just walk like maniacs.”
That afternoon, Dorcas and Joseph went to Super Saver for a few groceries. After paying for their things, they spotted a weighing scale. They promptly got on it--both at the same time, groceries in hand. There were a few false starts, as they were giggling a bit too hard to stay on the scale at first try. But they finally got themselves positioned well enough that the scale could get their weight, which brought on another onslaught of laughter--because their combined weight tallied up to 255 pounds.
When Joseph was two years old, my mother and father got a new scale--the type used in a doctor’s office, with weights on a slide bar at eye level. One day shortly thereafter, we were visiting them.
Joseph took my hand and said excitedly, “Let’s go see how much me costs!”
Larry and Teddy went to Bobby and Hannah’s house Friday night. Larry was going to glue a piece of linoleum onto the spot on the kitchen floor where the refrigerator used to be. But by the time he got there, Bobby had already finished the job. Instead, Larry took a cracked window out of the room just off the kitchen--the one they plan to use as a dining room--and he is going to have it fixed for them.
When they returned, Victoria asked Larry, “Why did you come back?”
Larry replied indignantly, “’Cause I live here! It’s my house!”
Victoria responded, “Oh!” and after a moment’s thought, “It’s ALL of our house!”
That night we watched another video about WWII--this time, the story line went up to Pearl Harbor…and stopped. Waaaaaaaaa… We wanted to see Part II!
We were all dying for some snacks, so we sent Dorcas and Hester to the grocery store for several different kinds of crackers and cheese. On the way to the store, Dorcas spotted flashing lights over on 48th Avenue, and headed there to see what was happening--and wound up at a police checkpoint: they were checking to see if people had their driver’s license, proof of insurance, registration, and if they were buckled in. Everything was in order in Dorcas’ little Isuzu Stylus, so she was awarded a little red vinyl zippered bag of Band-Aids and medicated towelettes.
When they finally came home with the snacks, Lydia showed Larry one of the crackers--a round Ritz, with marks on it like the stitching on a baseball.
“Do you know what this is?” she asked him.
“Yup,” he responded, knowing full well what she was trying to show him, “It’s a cracker.”
“Tee hee,” giggled Lydia. “No, what does it look like!”
Larry looked at her blankly. “It looks like a cracker,” he told her.
“Hee hee hee!” said Lydia, and Joseph helpfully said, “It’s a football.”
“No, no; it’s a baseball!” retorted Lydia.
“Ha!” snorted Larry. “That’s no baseball. You just take that thing outside and try batting it!” He waved a hand. “It’ll cracker right up!”
“Hahahahaha!” said all the littles, and a few of the bigs, too.
I have finished Hannah’s gown, all but the pearl buttons on the back. I sewed the top insert of Hannah’s dress in by hand--finally getting it right, after ripping it apart once and trying again--and cut all the appliqués out of the train piece. That insert is still not really good enough, but I think I’ll leave it. I’m not sure I’ll get it put in any better, in any case, if I were to take it out and do it the third time. There I sat, on my bed, dress at the foot, material in my lap, and appliqués on all sides. About the time I finished cutting, my hair stood up on end and I thought, What if I cut the appliqués out of the skirt, instead of the train?!” But all was well; the skirt was still in one piece.
As I’ve said often enough before, my very best sewing occurs with the Fourth-of-July clothes, where it doesn’t matter nearly as much. My most spectacular calamities happen with the Christmas or the Easter outfits, of course. If Murphy had’ve known about sewing, he would doubtless have added this phenomenon to his list of Laws.
Now I will sew the leftover appliqués onto Victoria’s dress. I’m going to use extra big stitches, sewing them all on by hand, so that, after the wedding, I can remove them, cut the dress shorter, and put the appliqués back on, so she can wear it to church.
Early Saturday morning--maybe 4:00 a.m.--Helen and Delmar Tucker, John and Bethany Wright, and their daughter Esther, left for Washington, D.C., where Esther will compete in the National Spelling Bee next week.
Yesterday Larry, Teddy, and Joseph helped Larry’s brother Kenny cut down a huge tree in someone’s back yard. They had a forty-foot ladder. The tree was approximately 65 feet tall. This meant there was quite a bit of climbing involved; and for those who don’t like heights, that can be a harrowing experience. They used a rope with a big hook on one end, and Larry threw the hook up and over the branch he was planning to cut. The hook went around the branch, then came back and caught the rope, just as he had intended. The other end of the rope they fastened to Kenny’s pickup. Then, when the branch began to fall, they could guide it safely in the right direction.
They are half done; they will finish it Tuesday, when a friend of ours can help them with his boom truck.
Yesterday the trash can was overflowing, and seemed to be growing every minute. And there were no boys around to haul it out. So I said, “Hester and Lydia, do you think, if you both worked together, you could get all that garbage into a bag and take it out?”
Hester stared at the mess and lifted her eyebrows. “Uh, yeah,” she replied. “Do we have any hard hats?”
A tee and collar mower at Quail Run has been leaking oil. Turns out, a part of the engine had come loose, and oil was dripping out near the crankshaft. Larry’s supervisor and the other employees who have worked on the mowers thought he would have to pull the engine out, putting the mower out of commission for at least a couple of days.
But Larry knew how to get it fixed without taking the engine out--and the job was done in two hours. And weren’t they surprised.
Early the next morning, he used that particular mower, so he had ample opportunity to check out his fix-it job. There were no leaks. Also, he got to try out his new yellow rainsuit, for the rain was coming down steadily. The greens must be mowed, rain or shine!
And now, I’d better head to bed; we are planning to leave early tomorrow for---but I will save that for next week’s letter.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.