Robert GordonSaves the day!part one.

R G Holdaway Family with Johnny Bell early 1930’sL to R Johnny Bell(cousin) Mary Elizabeth Perkins (Lizzie) with Kathleen Annie Lee Holdaway, Roscoe Gordon Holdaway, John Arthur Holdaway about 1930 (note how well-dressed the children are and Roscoes’s mended overalls. I have one of these chairs in my writing room today. Kathleen helped Roscoe replace the bottom in 1932. That story will be in her memoirs, soon to be published.)R G Holdaway Family with Johnny Bell early 1930's

Mother is eighty-seven. She swears if she ever meets up with her cousin, Robert Gordon, she intends tell him what a hellion he was, even if he is the Pope and has a beard down to his knees. Well, I am pretty sure our Pope wasn’t previously known as Robert Gordon and doesn’t have a beard down to his knees, but if he was, and does, please tip him off. A whacked-out little eight-seven year old lady down in Louisiana might knock his block off if she gets a chance. From the many stories I’ve heard over the years, I know Robert Gordon had a little brother, Wayne, who was also horrible, but nowhere nearly as mean as Robert Gordon.

Robert Gordon’s initial transgression that put him on Mother’s dirt list was not his fault. He was her Grandma’s favorite. Her grandma paid no attention whatsoever to Mother, or most of her other grandchildren, openly doting on Robert Gordon with warm waves of affection washing over his brother Wayne. No matter that her cousins had lived next door to her grandma from the day of their birth. Mother, hereinafter known as Kathleen, was still steamed to see them with the run of the place, their toys littering Grandma’s yard, and watch them cuddled in Grandma’s lap, when she was never noticed.

Kathleen’s prized possession was a little wagon that her father had acquired second-hand and painstakingly repaired by the broken tongue. The very next tme Robert Gordon visited, he ferreted out her precious wagon, sneaked the hatchet from the kindling pile, and smashed the tongue to smithereens so effectively that the wagon was a total loss. The destructive act wasn’t discovered till after his departure. The family later remembered hearing banging when Robert Gordon had claimed time to go to the toilet. From that day forward, Kathleen hated him.image

Kathleen had but a handful of toys, mostly homemade or hand-me-down, so of course she cherished every one. She had learned, to her great sorrow, that Robert Gordon and Wayne would steal, given the chance. Before they left after a visit, her older brother, who usually only lived to torment her, held the boys upside down by ther and shook them, while she retrieved her toys raining to the ground.

One one visit, Robert Gordon who was younger than she, but bigger, entertained himself by hiding and jumping on Kathleen’s back as she rounded corners, pushing her to the ground and enjoying the ride to the ground as she fell face-first into the dirt and muck of the yard. John helped her plot, so she was ready on his next visit. As she pranced alluringly around the corner, he jumped. She threw herself backwards, the back head bashing satsfyigly into his face and nose. Blood and snot poured from his nose and split lip as he ran bawling for his mama. It was difficult to convince anybody she had started it when he’d jumped on her back, though he tried.

The most memorable, and adult-infuriating trick Robert Gordon and Wayne ever pulled of was The Great Goat-Milk Robbery. Though they were as poor as any farmers during The Great Depression, her parents were excellent providers. They had but one cow, but they kept a goat or two as a secondary source of milk. Cows don’t produce milk just before and immediately after calving. Milk production drops drastically during periods of low feed availability such drought. At any rate all live stock is preciouos and to be treated well. The Evil Robert Gordon and Wayne were beyond the Pale. They slipped away from the visiting adults and robbed poor Nanny Goat of her milk in a way that no Christian ever should. The repulsed neighbors were watching horrified while one boy held the goat and the other nursed, just like he was a kid goat. Kathleen’s daddy and mama and the horrid boy’s parents got there just as Nanny was being rescued and flogged by an outraged neighbor. Robert Gordon and Wayne’s parents left in disgrace and Kathleen’s family had another long, enjoyable talk about how hideos they Devil-ridden were. Poor Nanny didn’t give milk for three days.

This is the same chair from vintage picture above, one of my most treasured belongings.

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The Heartbreaking Tale of the Post-Mortem Fruitcake

Egyptian archaeologists discover the world's oldest fruitcake.

Christmas revolved around fruitcake.  Mother pinched pennies for weeks to buy the candied fruit and nuts required to bake the perfect fruitcake.  On December 22, everything else was in readiness for FRUITCAKE baking.  She chopped the nuts, candied fruit, brought out her spices  and pulled out her time honored recipe for the perfect fruitcake which only graced our table during the Christmas Season.  Baking the fruitcake was a sacred tradition, which we looked forward to it simply because it meant Christmas was almost here.  The eating of the cake was irrelevant.  The tradition was what mattered.

My maternal grandmother died December 16, 1964.  We were all devastated. She was the indulgent figure in out lives. Her rare visits had a holiday quality.  Her gifts were provided a few luxuries in our lives  I couldn’t imagine life without her.  She had mailed her Christmas gifts to us on the morning before she died in the night..  It arrived two or three days after her funeral.  It was a macabre feeling, being anxious to find out what she’d sent, knowing she was in her grave.

In the way of kids everywhere, we rallied and had a wonderful Christmas.  The gifts had special meaning, knowing they’d be the last.  I still have a tiny jewelry box from that year.  My poor brother managed to turn this sad situation into a mess.  Grandma had included a small fruit cake in a red tin box.  Mother put it up, intending to serve it on a special occasion.  Naturally, this fruitcake from her mother was elevated to the sacred.  Well, my brother Bill must have had a special occasion of his own.  Mother found the empty fruitcake tin hidden in his room, not a crumb left.

She was furious!  He had eaten her dead mother’s fruitcake……….the last gift she’d ever sent.  He lived to regret his theft.  She didn’t let him forget it for weeks, getting weepy every time she saw the shiny red box, sitting in a place of honor on the table. She keeps buttons and thread in that box till today.

This is probably the only documented story of anyone ever actually eating, much less stealing a fruitcake!

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Twelve Days of Christmas, a Letter

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Miss Agnes McHolstein
69 Cash Avenue
Beaver Meadow, Col.
December 14 Dearest John:
I went to the door today and the postman delivered a Partridge in a Pear Tree. What a thoroughly delightful gift! I couldn’t have been more surprised. With deepest love and devotion, Agnes
Miss Agnes McHolstein
69 Cash Avenue
Beaver Meadow, Col.
December 15 Dearest John:
Today the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just imagine – Two Turtle Doves! I’m just delighted at your very thoughtful gift. They are just adorable. All my love, Agnes
Miss Agnes McHolstein
69 Cash Avenue
Beaver Meadow, Col.
December 16 Dearest John: Oh, aren’t you the extravagant one! Now I really must protest. I don’t deserve such generosity – Three French Hens! They are just delightful, but I must insist, you’ve been too kind. Love, Agnes
Miss Agnes McHolstein
69 Cash Avenue
Beaver Meadow, Col.
December 17 Dearest John:
Today the postman delivered Four Calling Birds. Now really, you’re being too romantic. They are beautiful, but don’t you think that enough is enough? Affectionately, Agnes Miss Agnes McHolstein
69 Cash Avenue
Beaver Meadow, Col.
December 18 Dearest John:
What a surprise! Today the postman delivered Five Golden Rings – one for each finger. You’re just impossible, but I love it. Frankly, all those birds squawking were beginning to get on my nerves. Love, Agnes Miss Agnes McHolstein
69 Cash Avenue
Beaver Meadow, Col.
December 19 Dear John: When I opened the door, there were actually Six Geese-A-Laying on my front steps. So you’re back to the birds again, huh? Those geese are huge. Where will I keep them? The neighbors are complaining and I can’t sleep through the racket. Please stop. Cordially, Agnes
Miss Agnes McHolstein
69 Cash Avenue
Beaver Meadow, Col.
December 20 John: What’s with you and those f**king birds? Seven Swans-A-Swimming! What kind of a godd*mn joke is this? There’s bird sh*t all over the house and they never stop with the racket. I can’t sleep at night and I’m a nervous wreck – it’s not funny. So stop with those f**king birds! Sincerely, Agnes Miss Agnes McHolstein
69 Cash Avenue
Beaver Meadow, Col.
December 21 OK Buster!
I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do with 8 Maids a Milking? It’s not enough with all these birds and maids a milking, but they had to bring their godd*mn cows! There’s sh*t all over the lawn and I can’t move in my own house. Just lay off me, smartass! Agnes
Miss Agnes McHolstein
69 Cash Avenue
Beaver Meadow, Col.
December 22 Hey Shithead:
What are you, some kind of sadist? Now there are nine Pipers Piping! And Christ do they play! They haven’t stopped chasing those maids since they got here. The cows are getting upset and they’re stepping all over those screeching birds. What am I going to do? The neighbors have started a petition to evict me! You’ll get yours! Agnes
Miss Agnes McHolstein
69 Cash Avenue
Beaver Meadow, Col.
December 23 You Rotten Prick!
Now there’s Ten Ladies Dancing. I don’t know why I call those sluts ladies. They’ve been balling those pipers all night long. The cows can’t sleep and they’ve got diarrhea. My living room is a river of sh*t. The commissioner of buildings has subpoenaed me to give cause why the building shouldn’t be condemned. I’m siccing the police on you. One who means it!!
Miss Agnes McHolstein
69 Cash Avenue
Beaver Meadow, Col.
December 24 Listen Fuckhead:
What’s with the Eleven Lords a Leaping on those Maids and Ladies? Some of those broads will never walk again. Those pipers ran through the maids and have been committing sodomy with the cows! All 23 birds are dead, they’ve been trampled to death in the orgy. I hope you’re satisfied, you vicious, rotten swine. Your sworn enemy, Agnes Law Offices
Badger, Bender & Cajole
303 Knave Street
Chicago, Ill.
December 25 Dear Sir:
This is to acknowledge receipt of your latest gift of the Twelve Drummers Drumming, which you have seen fit to inflict upon our client, Miss Agnes McHolstein. The destruction, of course, was total. All future cor-respondence should be sent to our attention. If you should attempt to contact Miss McHolstein at Happy Dale Sanitarium, the attendants have instructions to shoot on sight! With this letter you will find attached a warrant for your arrest. Cordially, Badger, Bender & Cajole