This past weekend (April21) was Dad’s 80th birthday. I traveled to Cadiz / Cerulean Kentucky, to join my siblings, some cousins and dad’s friends to celebrate. The actual trip was rather uneventful, except maybe for the burning tractor in the large field near the river, and the gooey layers of day-glow green insect intestines that completely covered the front and windshield of my truck.
About 70 people came and went during the multi-hour, very well planned party at their church. Dad’s friends, former co-workers, and two of his favorite sons spoke very kind words, or completely made up or irrelevant ones. Jack, (My sister’s rarely seen husband) made an appearance with the new group of traditional/bluegrass musicians he currently fiddles with. They were absolutely perfect for the venue. They opened and grabbed our respect with a rendition of “Tennessee Waltz” that sent the entire audience sighing. I looked around at the growing happy crowd and soon came to a realization that is quite rare, I was one of the youngest people in the room… My father was all smiles on Saturday, and with good reason… people came from all corners to greet and celebrate a good, decent, gentle man.
Before the party at my parent’s home, my older brother Steve and I had a good chance to talk, something we only get to do once or twice a year… and my younger brother brought over some smoked pork he had labored long and perfectly over.. sweet, smoky, tender… the pork, not my brother, ….
Angel stayed behind as her daughter was traveling upstream from Springfield Mo. with her two babies and a new boyfriend in tow… They were still occupying space and eating my food when I left this morning, but should be gone by the time I get home. The babies are, of course, adorable, blah, blah, blah.. The older one, Alexis, about two and a half, a high energy little blonde, blue-eyed sprite fell asleep in my arms as we watched Spiderman (pause for cutesy ‘awww’s) ….. and the baby boy, Corbin… well he’s not much more than a leaky, grunting reptile at this point, still completely devoid of wit or personality… he may yet grow out of it… John, the new boyfriend hails from South Central Missouri, near Winona, for those of you with maps… and seems a quite decent fellow. He attended college for a couple of years, loved playing football, didn’t care for the academics, but now, after working for a year in a logging operation (South Central Mo. Is famous for oak trees and charcoal production) has decided that a degree might be a handy thing to have. He has been courted by the football coach at Evangel College in Springfield, and has been offered a full scholarship and three years of football eligibility. John’s about to accept, assuring all that he’ll put a bit more effort into the classroom than he did a couple of years ago.
As for Angel’s daughter Stephanie, I teased, berated and generally made fun of her, it’s what I do…. They were at the zoo on Sunday when I got home around 2pm, so I had a couple of hours rest before the babies got there and spun up to a very high pitch….
On the four and a half hour drive back from Cerulean Ky, to Hillsboro MO, I decided that since my house was probably full of babies and thus there was no real rush, I’d take a side trip off I-55 onto Highway 61 at St. Genevieve, Mo, about 50 mile SW of Hillsboro. Angel had looked around on the Wide World of Web and discovered that there was a lot of restoration and artsy-craftsy shops in the old river port. I sidled into the town for a quick drive-by and confirmed that indeed it does deserve a day trip soon. The river is very narrow here, and there is an operating auto-ferry in continuous motion. The town is all levee’d up and there is a historic yardstick on one main street showing the various significant flood events and levels. On the outskirts of the old town there is a modern factory complex that apparently is in business to manufacture noise and dust.. white, thin, powdery, perhaps limestone, dust that pours from every pore and orifice of the massive industrial buildings, pipes, and chimneys and rudely settles on everything for a downwind mile. I will investigate further.
Anyway, back to the party…. It was really, really nice… for a geriatric convention…. But that’s much better than being in even a very small gathering of folks in their teens and twenties. As the events dwindled down and the sugar-free cake was all chopped up, the coffee bitter, and the foam in the odd-looking punch had fallen flat, I decided to jack up my brother’s dour mood a bit. I did this by pointing to Judy, the 55 year old daughter of mom and dad’s life-long friends, and truly wholesome and wonderful farm stock, Clint and Pauline. Judy was sitting with her parents, and is a very nice person in her own right. She is long and happily married, has kids and grandkids of her own, and spends some daylight hours cleaning homes for people, including my parents’. I asked Steve, the elder brother, if he had seen her.. he replied that yes he had. So I followed up with an almost inaudible “She is so hot!” The look I got from Steve was quite priceless…. His first reaction though was odd, “ She’s you’re cousin!” I didn’t think so, but reminded him that even if true, we were currently sitting in a less than cosmopolitan region of Kentucky where such paltry things are usually of only the most trivial concern. His feigned disgust continued… even to the point of mentioning it to my father later in the day in an attempt to embarrass me, which was fine, since I’d already clued dad in on the gag. Dad played it like the pro he is, casting doubt on the ‘cousin’ aspect, reciting, as worst he could, the possible merge points in our weaving, colliding, and quite irregular family trees. (bravo dad !) It was all in good fun though… but if any of you really do have Judy’s phone number or email address…..

Of course I have to mention the dogs, no entry on this page would be complete without it. Mystery (the black pit bull) revealed another pleasant personality trait, he seems to love babies…. He hitched himself up to Alexis and appeared to love the ear-tugging and less than gentle petting.. (Don’t worry all activity was strictly monitored and closely supervised, we are professionals!) Blue, was allowed to check out the small, slick, sticky, smelly creatures for himself and immediately began to obsess over Lexy’s, slightly used diaper… following her around, nose-to-bottom. Hey! They’re just dogs!
For the most part the dogs were kept properly and securely segregated for the visit. They have the large basement and a very large fenced back yard, so it’s hardly cruel confinement…. We are always very cautious and have no unwarranted expectations of good behavior so it is always safety first… we are sure to let no harm come to any in our care.. after all a good dog is hard to find and well worth protecting from noisy, nasty little grandkids.

It’s about a month before we drive up to Maryland to watch yet another kid graduate from high school.. I doubt we accomplish much more of interest before then, other than putting out our garden again.. That freezy early April was quite the conversation starter over the weekend, what got ‘bit’ and what didn’t… Angel has purchased about 250’ of fencing and posts to create another ‘pasture’ for the dogs, so they don’t completely decimate the immediate back yard…

Well, greetings to all… and especially to a new reader I only recently found out about… I am afraid I do not know her actual name, but my sister, Kathy, the interim Registrar at Murray State University, simply said “ My secretary loves your stories.” I replied to my sister that in order to avoid being judged as pretentious and haughty in the future, she should not start any sentence with the words “My secretary…” Apparently 'her secretary' is an English major (virtually unemployable) so I value her opinion much more so than other, less literate and less accomplished readers….

DB

Respectfully submitted for your enjoyment, but not your scorn, nor petty rebuffs. So if you have nothing nice or flattering to say, then just keep to your seats and whisper quietly amongst yourselves….…