Long Hard Winter

When Grampa Jim stayed in Michigan for the winter, his life was extremely hard.  It wasn’t until he reached his late seventies that mom insisted he come to live with us for the winter.  Even then, he would only last until March, and then one day he would disappear. He took a bus back to Coloma.  God only knows how he made it out to the farm from town.  Other times he took the train from South Chicago to Watervliet.

Gramps winterized the house for the really cold months.  The house didn’t have insulation, but did have storm windows.  The heat came from pot-bellied stoves.  One was in the living room, the other in the dining room.  To conserve heat, he hung a heavy blanket from floor to ceiling over the archway that separated the living room from the rest of the house.  This way, when he fired up the stove, the heat stayed in one room.   He closed the doors to the bedrooms to further seal off the big room.   His cot was in a corner. He pulled the dining room table into the opposite corner by the driveway and the front yard.  This gave him daylight from the windows on both walls.

Grampa Jim got icy cold water from a hand pump in the kitchen, and warmed it on the kerosene stove.  I remember seeing lots of coffee cans under his bed. Others were  by the door.  Some had fluid in them, some were dry.  He used the cans to save going outside to urinate.  The outhouse was  seventy-five feet away from the side door.  God knows what he did when the snow was deep.

Gramps didn’t weigh more that 120 pounds for his  five foot height. His diet was simple. During the winter he subsisted on canned foods like pork and beans and soups. Hot dogs were a treat.  He recycled the grease in his solitary fry pan. Sometimes, he soaked a slice of  rye bread in hot grease for a yummy meal. When he had kerosene, he warmed soup in the can.  Other times he warmed the soup can on the pot belly.

One of his vices was smoking, but in winter he never walked the quarter mile to the store to buy a pack of Camels.  There was always a sack of Bull Durham around, and he rolled his own. After he ran out of tobacco he scoured the ash trays for butts .  Friends and neighbors came by to check on him when they hadn’t seen him for a while.

The pot belly stove kept him from freezing;  he burned coal. It was a chore to drag a few pounds at a time from the basement in a coal bucket.  Winter on the farm was brutal, but he preferred living independently. He lived alone as long as he could. Eventually, he gave in to his daughter’s arguments, and came to spend winters in the city .

Grampa Jim Studies

In the wintertime, Grandpa Jim came to live with us.  The winters in Michigan were hard.  His house wasn’t insulated, and there were only two pot belly stoves to heat the place.  There was no indoor toilet.  So, Mom insisted that Gramps stay with us.

His day began with a breakfast of coffee and bread. He tore one slice of  Silvercup bread into shreds, and plunked them into coffee with milk. Slowly, he spooned up the soggy bread like cereal. After he ate, he shuffled into the living room to sit in the easy chair to read.  First, he read the Hungarian paper cover to cover. The special paper came once a week, but it didn’t matter. He re-read the thing everyday until the new issue arrived. After he finished the Hungarian news he moved to the daily Chicago Times. After the Times, he pulled out a volume of the encyclopedia, and read that.  He was self-taught, and his  English reading skill was not great; but he loved to study. When he returned to the farm, he had new knowledge to share with his friends at Fish Corners.

Too Exhausted To Think Election

Thank God the garden has distracted me from the election. My tulips came, and I now have a mission to plant. In May, during our escape to Holland, Michigan, Peg and I bought ten bulbs each of thirteen different colors. Now I’m anxious to see them bloom. Along with the bulbs, I popped for a Mantis power tiller-cultivator. I always wanted one of those suckers. I was just a little hesitant to fire it up for the first time, but I got over that, gassed it up, and pulled the rope. WOW! That’s all I can say about this machine. It does the job. My first try saw me holding on like a bronc-buster on a mustang.

 I started in the softest soil in the yard. That’s where I practiced moving the machine back and forth to get the feel for it’s power. After ten minutes, I was ready to tackle the bed for the bulbs. The top soil in the new bed is only three inches deep, Below is hard clay. Even so, the little Mantis ground its way into the ground. When It hit the clay it began jumping up, trying to get out. With some patience I was able to scar the clay.

My shoulders and neck ached from the tension of holding on. It’s been a long time since I stressed the old body this way. I’m sure that by the time I finish planting I will be in better shape, or dead. Next, I moved the soil out of the bed to one side with a rake. My last compost from son Steve’s horse farm went down in a thin layer. I planted three colors of ten bulbs by mixing. The next ten were the same color, after that another ten of a different color. The squirrel guard came next. For this, I used chicken wire, or as it is called at Home Depot, “poultry barrier.” Finally, I shoveled the top soil back to cover the bulbs. Next, I will add a six inch layer of soil, sand, and compost.  

Three hours after I started, I went into the house, too exhausted to think about the election, and the future of our great country.  The candidates need to do the same.

“Warm and Fuzzy Weekend”

I had the great pleasure of not only enjoying a “warm and fuzzy” moment, I had a “warm and fuzzy” weekend. So many positive events transpired it is difficult to understand. First, I spent two days writing thank you letters to friends. These are people that responded to my appeal for the Frankfort Lions Club Charity Sweepstakes. I won two ways. I sold sweeps tickets, and I heard from friends that I hadn’t communicated with for months. Next, Peggy and I drove to Michigan to my family reunion. My daughter and grand daughter came with us. That alone was a beautiful time. It is rare to have one on one time with Jacque anymore.  She is way to busy raising her family.

The family reunion was smaller than expected. All of the cousins stayed home for various reasons. That meant spending time with my kids, my brother and sister-in-law, neices, nephews and their families. The weather cooperated and added to the beauty of the day.

This morning, Peggy and I slept in. We did make it to eleven o’clock mass. Before mass, Deacon Dan struck up a conversation that made us feel we were part of his family. After mass, and much to my surprise, Peg suggested that we go to the club for lunch. I love eating at the club. The parking lot was crowded, but all were at the pool or on the course. The dining room was empty except for another couple, who had been in church with us. They were neighbors from Aberdeen Road. Hanns and Lydia have been married just short of fifty years. Both were born in Germany, he in Hamburg, she in Stuttgart. They met in the U.S. and raised a family here. We had lunch together and had a totally enjoyable time.

Peggy and I spent the remainder of the afternoon searching for perennial plants on sale at Home Depot. We got some really nice plants to add to the collection.  On the way home we stopped at the Creamery for a tastee freeze. How much better can it get?