Day: August 30, 2015

Changing Voices

Reblogged

Time and Again

As I hold my tiny granddaughter, I remember melting into my grandma’s pillowy softness and smelling her Cashmere Bouquet Talcum Powder unaware she’d ever played any role but “Grandma.”  Though I’d always heard Mother address her as “Mama”  I stung with jealousy when I found out Grandma actually was her mother.  I felt as though they’d somehow cheated me by knowing each other first.  My first conscious memory was of toddling barefoot behind Grandma as we headed out to see her chickens.  I spotted a road-grader and strayed off the path to investigate, stepping into a nest of sand-burrs, those mean little stickers that hide in short grass.  I howling as Grandma hurried over with her flat-edged shovel and seated me on it as she pulled the stickers out of my tender feet.

We went on to check on the chickens where Grandma praised Della, her Dominecker Hen for laying a double-yoked egg yesterday, remarking to the others they might consider doing the same.  She told Sally not to start acting “Broody.”  She didn’t have enough eggs to “set” her yet.  She counted her chickens and found Susie missing.  Grandma got a long stick and poked under bushes till she flushed Susie out from her “stolen” nest.   I felt so important crawling way under the bush bringing baimageck two warm eggs. Chiding Juanita, a ornerny red hen, she threatened to invite her to Sunday Dinner, saying “You’ll make some mighty fine dumplings if you don’t lay a couple of eggs this week!”  I wasn’t that invested in Juanita and don’t recall whether we had dumplings or not.

The barn fascinated me most of all as I peeked through the crack between its chained doors  at the child’s table and chairs stored in its mysterious shadowy interior.  My grandparents and uncle had only rented the furnished house.  The barn and its contents were off limits to me.  Nothing could have made it more desirable as I imagined  the treasures it held.  Surely, there was a tricycle, a wagon, and since it was a barn, of course, a pony!  The longer I was denied, the more the list grew.  Never was a child so deprived or tormented by desire.

I do hope my little one recalls sweet stories of our our times together one day.

Dear Auntie Linda, August 30, 2015

Auntie LindaDear Auntie Linda, I just can’t stand my daughter’s husband.  I tried to get her not to marry him.  He will never make a good living.  He’s dumb, kind of dumpy, doesn’t dress well.  Sometimes he even wears overalls when they come over.  Carrie was raised better than this.  We gave her every advantage.  She had music and dance lessons, went to a good college.  He’s moved her to an old farm house way out in the sticks.  All she talks about now is her canning, her garden, raising bees, and her chickens.  She and the kids run around barefoot half the time.  I’d be so embarrassed if my friends ever saw how they live.  Why on earth would she throw her life away like this when she could do so much better.  Disappointed

Dear Disappointed, Sounds like Carrie has found just the life she wants.  The most important thing here is this man is your daughter’s choice.  If he is a good husband and treats her and the children well, that is all that matters.  You don’t have to live with the man.  Just because she and her husband doesn’t see things the way you do, doesn’t mean they are wrong or that he is dumb.  It wouldn’t hurt to put your feelings to the side and spend a little time with them.  You might learn something.  There is a lot to be said for the simpler life.  Hard work and living close to nature can be very satisfying and nurture your soul.  Auntie Linda

Dear Auntie Linda,  My twenty-eight-year old daughter is heavily into drug-use.  She and her five-year-old daughter, Jasmine, have always lived with me.  My daughter,  Vanessa,  never held a job or lived a responsible life, though from time to time, she does better than others.  I tolerate her in my home, though she has stolen from me, because I don’t have legal custody of her daughter.  Though Vanessa, has had arrests, she has never been incarcerated, nor lost  parental privileges.  She uses her daughter as a hostage to manipulate me into giving her money quite often.  My greatest fear is that she will take Jasmine and run.  What can I do to protect Jasmine?  Distraught Grandma

Dear Distraught,  Probably  wouldn’t hurt to talk to lawyer just in case Vanessa escalates.  Any chance of intervention or rehab?  Auntie Linda Linda

Auntie

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