Tuesday evening, Lydia had another Jr. Fire Patrol meeting. The children learned proper ways of climbing ladders (you wrap your toes around the rungs and go shinnying up feet first, foot over foot, following with your hands, pushing yourself upwards, hand over hand; this method keeps you from bonking headfirst into any lurking overhead trap doors and accidentally sticking your head right into a smoke-filled cavity) and descending them, too (what you do here, is, you lean far out of your upper window, grasp a rung of the ladder you must climb down, and pull yourself headlong out of the window, then clamber down the ladder headfirst, keeping your toes wrapped tightly around the upper rungs so you don’t suddenly turn a somersault and land ker-thunk right on the ground, thus keeping your head safely down out of any possible smoke, which, as you know, rises).
[Please do not take my word as gospel for these General Climbing Instructions; you might wish to take a quick refresher course at your local fire station before you light your bedroom on fire and climb down (or up); some firemen have been known to give disparate directives.]
The children were also taught how to make a ‘chair’ between two people by each person clasping one of their own wrists and one of the other person’s, so that a third party can sit thereon and be carried. Lydia, being one of the smaller fifth-graders, got the honor of being the rider. She then tried helping to carry another girl, but that didn’t last long, as the girl must have weighed at least another third more than Lydia, and Lydia nearly seated herself on the floor by accident when the girl seated herself on Lydia’s arms.
Next, they were shown how to carry people on a blanket, with three people on each side of the coverlet, rolling down the edges to make ‘handles’. Once again, the girl in the blanket was quite a bit bigger than Lydia, and when she rolled sideways right toward Lydia, the silken edging started unrolling in Lydia’s hand, and she had to clutch it with all her might and main and hang on for dear life to keep her friend from landing ker-splat on the floor.
Lydia turned in another handful of ‘fire hazard’ slips. These are papers on which are listed fire risks the child has found, the address where the peril was discovered, and what was done to remedy the situation. Lydia is bound and determined to win the prize for the most slips turned in, since a couple of her brothers have won, and the reward is usually an uncirculated silver dollar. I tell you, it’s a wonder the entire force doesn’t show up at our front door, notice of condemnation in hand, after reading how endangered and imperiled our lives are, on account of the considerable jeopardy of conflagration we of Forty-Second Avenue perpetually present to public and private population alike.
Thursday, Victoria and I traveled hither and yon all over Columbus, conducting Very Important Business everywhere we went, which is a Very Good Thing To Do on bright, sunny Thursdays early in the Cold, Cruel Month of February. First to the grocery store...then to the car wash to wash the poor ol’ dirty Subdivision... But the silly carwash moneygrabber wouldn’t take a twenty, and twenties were all I had. So off we went to the gas station, where I put eleven dollars worth of gas into the Subdivision, in order to get back a five and four ones. That gave me the correct amount of change to give the vehicle a first-rate wash and wax, and an underwash, too.
We’ve had several slushy, soggy days since that snow last week, and most of the cars around town are all muddy and bemired...but now you ought to see the Suburban glowing in the dark! Woooooeeee.
But you should have heard my remarks to other unconcerned drivers, as we tiptoed along in our immaculate, unsullied Suburban. Or maybe you shouldn’t’ve.
“Look out, you maniac!” and “Don’t you dare drive through that puddle next to me!” and “Stay back, you mud lolly!” and “Quick! Hand me a paintball gun!” and “Noooo! No splashing!” and “Somebody get me a mud blaster; I’ll get ’im!” and on and on. Victoria giggled at all my mandates and threats.
We sashayed daintily all the way to the post office, clear across town, muttering threats and warnings like an ominous thundercloud all the way, Victoria still giggling. There, I finally got a refund for some money I lost in a stamp machine--another of those moneygrabbers--a couple of weeks ago. (“Did they pay you for mailing those letters?” asked Victoria, a bit puzzled over that.)
We arrived home, miraculously with our shine still at High Sheen.
Later, as I was relating the details of our excursion to Larry, I groused, “...and that eleven dollars didn’t even bring the tank to half full!”
Larry had the perfect solution: “I’ll put a smaller tank on it,” he said sympathetically, “and then eleven dollars will fill it fuller.”
Is that scientific?
Lydia, Caleb, and Victoria decided to do their Valentines Thursday after school--and we had just enough…well, almost enough left over from last year, so we didn’t have to buy any more. For Victoria’s last Valentine, I cut the picture off the back of her Valentine box, and then made an envelope out of white paper.
We’d no sooner taped it shut than we discovered we would have had enough in the first place, because I’d accidentally made two Valentines for one boy. We put a stick of gum into each envelope, pressed the flap against a damp cloth, and sealed them. Victoria thinks this method of sealing a pile of envelopes is entirely inventive and ingenious.
Lydia made herself a new Valentine box with the box her new boots came in; Caleb used the box from his new tennis shoes (they’re waterproof, and leather, besides; and Caleb thinks they’re the cat’s meow). They wrapped red foil wrapping paper around them, cut a hole in the top, and adorned the boxes with gold foil hearts and animal stickers. Caleb enlisted my help in cutting out the letters of his name from the gold foil, and then I helped Lydia hot-glue ruffled white lace around the mailing slot she’d cut in her box. Victoria doesn’t need a new box; the one I made her last year with ruffles and shirred fabric covering it is still just like new. She carries it with her everywhere she goes, often sitting down to open it and rearrange all the Valentines inside it.
One day, I pulled several stacks of material from my fabric closet, then went downstairs to my pattern file and chose an armload of patterns, the better to combine favorite bits and pieces of pattern designs. I have now cut out six dresses--two each for Hester, Lydia, and Victoria--for Easter. One is a yellow dress for Victoria to wear under the mint green and yellow dress Amy crocheted for her when she was born. The dress, being of an open crochet stitch, has grown right along with Victoria, I do believe; and, with a ruffle on the dress underneath, it should be the right length.
It takes me a while to cut things out, because I am using scraps and pieces of this and that, trying to coordinate fabrics I already have, so as not to have to buy much. I needed only two-thirds of a yard of lavender seersucker, that was all, and it cost two dollars. Not bad for six new dresses, eh?
Larry and Joseph spent a day and a half working on a pickup belonging to Teddy’s boss, putting in a clutch. Work has not picked up yet, nor will it until March, probably.
The young woman who used to stay with Mama during the night, Sunday through Thursday, is soon getting married, and she needed more time to prepare for her wedding, so Dorcas is now staying with Mama every night but Saturday. She also stays with her from 12:30 p.m. to 5:00 p.m. Monday through Friday, and all day Saturday. On Sunday afternoon, she stays from 2:00 p.m. till 7:00 p.m. Dorcas and Grandma both are happy with this arrangement, I think, for Dorcas likes to stay with Grandma every bit as well as Grandma likes her to be there.
Esther’s mother, Sarah, stays with Mama most mornings from 8:30 to 12:30, Monday through Friday, and another girl stays with her from 5:00 p.m. to 8:00 p.m. Monday through Friday, and all night Saturday night. Lura Kay and I take turns staying with her during church, and now and then Janice or a couple of other ladies take a turn.
Friday evening, Larry and Caleb went off to the store and brought back a dozen Krispy Kreme doughnuts shortly after Dorcas had gone to Mama’s house. I happened to know that Janice was there, too, so I trotted three doughnuts to them, leaving one extra doughnut for Larry, Teddy, and Joseph to scuffle over.
Saturday, there came up a first-class, A-one blizzard, with winds gusting up to about 45 mph, and snow coming down so hard that, right at first, the flakes were going straight through the cement. (Larry said they were melting, but I know better.) We bundled up and drove to Wal-Mart for the aforementioned lavender seersucker and some pictures I’d had developed.
Leaving Wal-Mart, we drove out on Shady Lake Road, just for the fun of it. The snow was coming down in buckets, the wind was blowing like everything, and visibility was only about half a mile or so. I took a video of the stormy countryside.
By evening, it had tapered off, and there was only about an inch of snow on the ground--or rather, on the northwest sides of everything, where the wind blew it, and where it stuck good and proper. Sleet and snow found the gap in our front door and totally coated the inside door and knob.
That afternoon, I cut some high-loft batting and the backing for a small quilt, just the size for a doll, that Hester wants to give Victoria for her birthday. I sewed it all together, turned it, finished the last little hole--and realized I should have sewn a ruffle around the edges. Too late. Ah, well; I certainly wasn’t going to take it all apart and redo it. But I outline-stitched the picture--Papa, Mama, and Baby teddy bears with blocks and toys and such like. It turned out quite cute in spite of the missing ruffle, if I do say so myself.
That done, I was just getting all enthused about launching into one of those dresses I’d cut out (that’s my favorite part of sewing, I think: starting on a brand-new, just-cut-out garment) (maybe because I’ve made no mistakes yet?), when Lydia enlisted my aid with a collar she’d cut out for Victoria. So I helped her make a cute, pink-flowered collar with hearts machine-embroidered on it. I reluctantly let her use my sewing machine, and then was glad I did, for she was very careful with it, and did an extraordinarily good job for the very first time...and the seam was even curved, which is a difficult thing for a first-time seamstress to execute. The first time I sewed a curved seam, it looked like I’d executed it, all right.
We made a little sailor-type bow for the front of the collar, hiding the snap under the knot. It turned out so cute, I was glad I’d helped her with it. Soooo... all I got done of my own projects was the cutting out of about eight pieces of fabric. Nevertheless, I am convinced it was a day well spent; wouldn’t you agree?
Saturday night, Larry cut Joseph and Caleb’s hair while I curled Hester, Lydia, and Victoria’s hair. It was the Forty-Second Avenue Beauty Salon, in full gear.
Sunday marked the one-year anniversary since my nephew Robert Walker started in the ministry (last year Sunday was the 11th). Hard to believe a year has flown by already!
Larry is fixing waffles as I type, and it’s beginning to smell a bit waffly in here, which is making it hard for me to concentrate on what I am typing. Also, I’m liable to drool on the keyboard if I’m not careful.
And now he is telling me that he needs to go to the store for some milk, and will I finish the waffles... Mmmm! I sho’ ’nuff will!
Back later...
* * *
Later:
And now it is Sunday night, and I have just returned from staying with Mama. Bobby, Hannah, and Aaron are here. Hannah is playing the piano, Larry is singing soprano, and Bobby is singing tenor. Larry is holding Aaron, who is grinning at me over Larry’s shoulder.
Well, goodbye! I’m off to play with my little grandson!
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