The Collector

To say he was a collector is an understatement! For a start my dad was a collector of years. Last Nov. 17, he had collected 90 years. What a day that was! He started out saying he wasn't going to get up that day. He didn't like birthdays! And...he ended that day saying it was the best day ever! We all gathered at Bob's to surprise him. Which brings us to his collection of friends! He had so many, of all ages. Not just 'friends' but the good true, blue sort! Even in his most mulish of moments they stood beside him! One day a high school boy said,   " He told me to do good and I am going to do my best to do that!" Some of his best friends he had from childhood. He gathered more in his army years and more as the years went by. He didn't let any slip away. One day a fella came by asking for Oliver Johnson. He said he had told himself when the war got over he was going to look him up. And find him he did. We asked, "Who was that?"  Dad said, "Hell if I know! He said he knew me and I wasn't going to tell him I couldn't place him!"

He was a collector of stories. "And then he would push that button on that dog collar and that ol' mare would put her ears back and come at me again! I only had time to jump that fence and get outta there!  "And then that bear climbed out of that box and right in the window of the pickup! You should have seen her gather up those 2 kids and move! He could tell you stories about all his favorites...horses, mountains, lakes, hunting trips, camping spots, dogs...Where he used to find the biggest bucks or catch the biggest fish. Which gun was the best for which quest.

And a collector of wisdom! There really wasn't anyone who knew more. "Did you hear that? That was a bull bat." He knew about anything you could ask him; why your horse had a belly ache and what to do to fix it! How to catch a bullfrog, what to feed a newborn kitten or colt! How to braid a halter. What grew between the bark and the trunk of a tree. How to teach a horse to pack! Where to find icknish. The best way to catch a chipmunk...

He intriqued kids with his boxes of pocket watches, pocketknives, padlocks and keys, bottles and jars of marbles, old toys, all the things kids couldn't resist! And... GUNS! He had a gun for every grandkid...oh did I say "A" gun...I really meant a passle of guns to dole out at every visit. And when that kid went away G'pa went on a search to gather more for the next visit.  He made them promise to have a .30 .30 shoot every year. And when they grew up even their wives got guns!

And he was a collector of hearts. It seems a conundrum that just when one is finally old enough to realize and appreciate the special treasure he has that time has slipped away. Now we are all collectors of memories. The memories get shinier and more precious as time marches on. They are brought out at each and every occasion of a get-together and each time the treasures grow more dear.

Great Expectations

All righty then! I think it's time we talk about this "retirement thing".  I have lots of retired friends, almost all of them in fact. I hear them talk on their computers over hot coffee in the mornings, trips to Branson and Dollywood, guys off on hunting trips, gals off to quilt shows. This retirement thing must be an all right deal! I have quilts to do, piano to play, books to read, sweaters to knit, journals to write...I think I can do this!

The first couple of weeks of retirement was a pity party, well maybe it was for about a month, because I missed the excitement of school starting, my new kids and such. Then I decided I needed to pick myself up and dust myself off. I thought, "You have things to do that you couldn't do while you were working. Now you have the time to do them so get with it!" And I did. Off to Alturas to the yarn shop, off to Cedarville to the Weavers. Hither and yon I went! But then it began to look like there were things at home that needed doing and... I could be doing them.

This morning snow covered the bottom field. Mike's horses needed to be in that field but there were still pipes on it. They needed to be moved. Mike was at work. That's when I decided it was up to me to fill the role of the hired hand! Cheney thought it was a great idea! She pulled on my jacket sleeve. She was either telling me "Let's go for a grand adventure," or "Come on. Check out my favorite vole holes!"  I could hear the cottonwoods whispering. It seemed they were saying, "What is she doing?? What happened to that retirement thing? Doesn't she know what can happen?"  It did take me a bit to figure it out. I pulled the pipes one at a time for quite a long time before it dawned on me to pull them two at a time. That indicates my heritage! I won't mention which one! The ice had frozen inside the pipes. They were heavier now than in the summer. The snow had stuck them together where they met and also to the ground. We had quite a tussle before I worked this all out but in the end I had a good 50 pipes stacked up like matchsticks in a box!

And when Mike got home from work..."Hey Hon!! Who moved the pipes? You? Really? Good job! I didn't know you could do that. Now that you're retired maybe moving pipes can be your summer job!! What do you think?"

Autumn Blessings

 

This morning I smell smoke from someone's wood fire. The cottonwoods along the creek are dressed in their finest glorious gold and  the wind is undressing my peach tree! The weatherman says the temperature will register "cold" tomorrow. Old man winter must be hiding out right around the corner! Two daughters in law, a "new be" and a "to be" have shown interest in my canning.  Today is apple canning day at my house.  Perfect timing! A friend has sent four boxes of beautiful red and yellow dappled apples my way!  My mission...apple pie filling! I have an Amish apple recipe that can be used for more desserts than just an apple pie. My family loves it. My favorite is Apple Crisp with lots of crunchy oatmeal topping!

The apples will to be peeled and sliced and put in tall, shiny quart jars, crowned with silver lids and rings. Sugar; 4 cups, cinnamon; 2 tsps, nutmeg; a dash, cornstarch; 1 cup, all poured into 10 cups of water. Mix and heat to a boil. Simmer until clear and brown to make the syrup. I slice my apples into a pan of lemon water to help them keep their pretty color. When enough apples are sliced I settle them into hot jars, crowd them down tight and cover them to their shoulders with the syrup. Close your eyes. Can you smell the rich, warm, spicy smell filling my kitchen?

Four jars at a time go into a boiling water bath for about twenty minutes. They come out bright and shiny and line up on a towel on my counter to cool. Listen for their lids to ping announcing they have sealed. Soon they march their way onto the pantry shelf, carrying a load of love and family tradition on their shoulders. One generation to the next, from my mom to me, to those who come after me and want to give it a try; autumn blessings