Kids and Trees

If you look closely that is not a picture of two apple trees. But with their brown trunks and green branches laden with fruit, they could be.

This was a goodbye gift from our "cross the street" neighbors, Thomas and Kerri McLeod and their 2 sons, Hudson and Owen. I posted the other day about cat sitting their wildcat, Bauer, while they are in the process of moving. Anyway, back to this painting.

Ok, it's not a picture of two apple trees, but it is kind of a picture of Hudson and Owen, and so either way they're both pictures of growth. The trunks are actually their feet, firmly planted; while the branches are their fingers reaching for the sky and bearing fruit as they grow.

It should be noted that a few of those apples are Thomas and Keri's fingerprints. The two red patches between the base of the trees are Bauer's paw prints, completing this unique family potrait, which was immediately hung on the wall where you first enter our house. Cool gift, huh?

Here's a final shot of the whole tribe in front of the now empty home.  Its not really empty you know. No home which has ever been lived in really is. They're all still filled with the memories that lived there....

Cat Sitting Bower

Our neighbors, Thomas and Keri, are moving. We've watched their family grow for the past 8 years or so and they'll be taking 2 sons with them that didn't come with the house - Hudson, aged 5, and his brother Owen, aged 3, soon to be 4. Bower, the cat, will also be moving with them.

But, there's about 3 months between closings and Bower will be homeless. So, he'll be living on our porch where Midnight, Baby Cat and Goldie all used to squat.

Bower has a real cool history. He's about 8 and has had shots and all the other things which housecats get to help them live longer than any of my strays could have ever hoped for. And, he's no stranger to the outdoors.

He was born on  a farm and though he knows how to kill, he also knows when to run away, split, scram, be invisible and all the other tricks associated with having 9 lives and making them last!

He's also no stranger to our porch, as he has been coming over daily for about 5 years at this point for treats. He's even walked through our house looking for Goldie after he'd been gone several days and Bower became convinced that Goldie was our secret pet cat and not a real stray at all!

Oh, and did I mention that, like most cats, he's a bit paranoid.

After Goldie passed away I vowed not to care for any more strays. Due to my allergies they need more than I can give them; like a permanent home.

So, this will be like having the best of both worlds for about 3 weeks. Then, just like the rest, he'll move on. The big difference is that this time the story ends well....

Mr. and Mrs. Watts - A Love Story

When Sue and I were first married we lived in Baltimore, Maryland just across the street on Clifton Avenue, from an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Watts. I don’t ever recall knowing their first names, as they each referred to one another as Mr. or Mrs. Watt in conversation. It was very quaint and unusual, just as they were.

This story concerns their courtship, and later on, marriage as it was relayed to me by them some 25 years ago. I believe I have the story remembered correctly.

The diminutive Mr. Watts, who was probably one of the shortest Marines ever admitted to the Corps, came home from the Second World War having survived the hand to hand combat that marked the Battle for Guadalcanal. He was a tough little guy, and still single at the age of 30. He took a job working for the railroad, first residing in Virginia, where his true love had originally been waiting out the war for him.

Mrs. Watts, I never did know her maiden name, was a nurse, and during the war had taken a job working up in Indianapolis. The photo above is of Union Station in Indianapolis, as it appeared in 1946. The two corresponded throughout the war and were anxious to see one another again. To that end, Mr. Watts secured a ticket for the trip to Union Station, where his love would be waiting. He had a mission on his mind, and love in his heart.

Mrs. Watts was busy on her end as well, making plans for the upcoming visit. She had been rooming at the YWCA, which of course did not permit men, so she sought out a hotel room. They had never “been together” before; those were her actual words to me; but somehow she felt that having a hotel room ready would not be a bad idea. To that end, she secured the Bridal Suite at the best hotel in town for the whopping price of $7 a night.

Mr. Watts arrived in Indianapolis by train, with the soon to be Mrs. Watts waiting for him at the station. They had dinner, a noontime meal, at the “best diner in town”, during which they began to discuss the events of the past few years and where they might be heading as a couple. That’s when he popped the question. I will let Mr. Watts take over from here and tell you about it. To do otherwise would only serve to diminish the story.

“I looked at Mrs. Watts and I said, ‘Look here Mrs. Watts’, only I didn’t call her Mrs. Watts yet, on account of we weren’t married. So I said, ‘Look here Mrs. Watts, you ain’t getting any younger and I ain’t getting any better lookin’, so what do you say we up and get hitched?’ Well sir, she about jumped right into my lap! And do you know she had a hotel room all set, kind of like she knew what I was going to ask before I even asked it.”

Well, Mr. and Mrs. Watts lived happily ever after, racking up at least 5 decades of marriage that I know of. I have always wondered if, when they said goodnight to one another, they called one other Mr. and Mrs. Watts. They moved away a few years after Sue and I married, and I am sure that they have both since passed on. No matter, wherever they are today, I know that they are still together. True love never dies.

The Pie

When you get to be about my age; 59 years old; you start to appreciate the smaller things in life which vastly outweigh all the material things you may have accrued over the years. This is well, as it is easy to become cynical in so many ways, having sometimes seen human nature at its worst. And that’s why the smallest of kindnesses can come to mean so much; it’s an affirmation of everything in which you believed before you became so jaded. In my case, this act of kindness came in the form of a pie delivered on the spur of the moment by Isaac, a neighbor’s son.

Now, I have lived 2 houses down from Isaac’s family for over 4 years. In that time we have developed a nodding, how are you, type of relationship with his parents. This is normal, as we are of different age groups and lifestyles. But the best part of being neighbors with them has been watching their 2 children grow. And, over the years, I have given a few things to the kids; stuff like a volleyball, or a basketball; which I can no longer use, but are useful to them. Isaac and his sister Ainsley always greet me with a cheery hello, even calling me "Mr." Robert in the bargain. These hellos are sometimes the highlight of my day, as my own grandchildren live so far away.

Last week; the night before Thanksgiving; Isaac was distributing some pies to various neighbors as part of a church outreach program. He didn't really have a list, and I suppose he was going to the houses of people he knew from church. We passed in the front of my house just as it was getting dark and a bit chilly. We greeted one another in our usual, friendly fashion; which always makes me feel pretty good; and then went our separate ways. But, then he did the unexpected.

As I was headed back into my house he called out, “Hey, Mr. Robert.” Turning, I noticed him fumbling for something in the shopping bag he was carrying. As we got closer to one another he pulled out a pie saying, “This is for you Mr. Robert. I want you to have this.” It was so spontaneous that I could only manage a heartfelt thanks before he departed the scene of his kind deed.

It was a few days later and I was enjoying the last of the pie when Sue walked into the dining room. Seeing me demolish the last piece she reminded me that, “You don’t even like pie.” Well, that's probably true; but as I mumbled back to her, “Maybe so, but this is the best pie I've ever had!”

"One Short Night" - Grace Potter (2010)

When it comes to music, we all have our private little niches which we enjoy. When I was younger it seemed so much easier to become exposed to newer and different music than it is today. With the advent of satellite radio, and other technologies, it has become easier to not hear a new sound which you might otherwise have been enjoying for a few years. This is the case, for me, with Grace Potter.

Although the name was lingering on the edge of my consciousness, I had never really taken the time to seek out her music. If this were 1967 I would have already heard her music in the eclectic mix which was the signature of AM radio. What made me seek this artist out; several years late; was a short hello to my neighbor, Linda. She had commented that the weather didn’t look too good for an outdoor concert she was set to see that night. When I asked who it was see was going to see, she replied Grace Potter. I knew the name, but not the artist. So, off to You Tube went I.

This was the third video I watched, and immediately grabbed my guitar to try and figure it all out. It’s a very cleverly done video; Ms. Potter at home with her band; rehearsing for a concert. Halfway through the video, the scene shifts to the live concert seamlessly. Now, that’s talent.

The Age of Chivalry is Not Dead.

Thanks to Coleman, our 2 year old neighbor, for proving that the Age of Chivalry is not dead. Sue was out doing the lawn today when Coleman came outside with his mom, Ashley. Sizing up the situation in a glance, he grabbed his trusty, lightweight mower and pitched right in. He didn't even ask for gas money! Watch out for this little guy,he's going to break hearts someday...