Another Day

This morning I read The Snows of Kilimanjaro. Reading Hemingway always makes me wonder about what the world was like in the 1920's and 30's and 40's. Just a few weeks ago my brother-in-law's grandfather died and we discussed what life must have been like for him. My grandpa died twenty years ago, and although I spent a lot of time with him in my youth, I only really knew him as an older man. I wish I would have been able to spend time with him when he was twenty or thirty or forty. What was his life like? What did he think of the depression? What did he think of the war? What did he think of everything?

In the summer of 1978 I spent nearly everyday with my grandpa. He would pick me up in the morning and we would do errands for my dad. Sometimes we would go downtown to buy groceries for his stores. Then we would we have to stop at each location to drop off whatever they needed. Once a week we went with our produce man, Freddy, to the farms in Indiana to buy fruits and vegetables. We would head out in a big white van, going from farmer to farmer, filling it up with all kinds of stuff. Boxes of fresh tomatoes and bags of sweet corn and baskets of strawberries and crates of green peppers. There were only two seats in the van so on the way back I would get to sit on a bag of corn in between Freddy and grandpa. It was a long trip for an eight year old but the smile on my face kept me awake the whole time.

My grandpa, and grandma, lived in a big old house in Price Hill. It was where my mother and her sister and brother grew up. My great-grandma lived there too. And apparently a lot of other family members had stayed there through the years. The first floor had a living room with a big glass window in the front. There was a formal dining room and a big kitchen. At the back of the house was a sunroom that spanned its width. The second floor had four bedrooms and the door that led up to the attic. The way I remember it, I could live in that attic today - Chick, dogs, cat, baby and me. The house was all brick and had a huge front porch that wrapped around one side. It had a good sized back-yard. At least it was big enough for my parents wedding reception. And in the very back of the yard was a garden that grandpa used to attend to. I don't really know what he had in that garden, but I know he passed down his green thumb to my mom. I'm still trying to find mine, but I know it's there somewhere.

I have a very vivid memory of upsetting my grandpa once. We were driving in his white Oldsmobile. It must have been late spring or early summer because he had just picked me up from school and we had the windows down. I saw my friend Jeff walking along the sidewalk and I wanted to yell hello to him. I was in the backseat so I leaned forward and yelled out the driver-side window - right next to my grandpa's ear. He looked at me through the rear-view mirror and with a puzzled face asked me why I would yell in his ear like that? I didn't know and I slouched back into my seat, noticing that the whole time my window was down too. If I was just thinking better, I wouldn't have upset my grandpa. Now, whenever someone yells in someone else's ear I think of him. Not because he was upset with me, but because I wish I wouldn't have upset him.

My grandpa died in 1985, one week after my grandma passed. Although it was a difficult time for my family and my mother in particular, it was really best for him. They had been married for over fifty years and he was in poor health. He obviously lived a very full life and I'm glad to have been a small part of it. But I still wish I knew more about him. What kind of cigarettes did he smoke? What was his favorite drink? Where did he go to have that cigarette and drink on nights when he needed to get away? Did he enjoy making sundaes or just eating them? Would he rather play cards or watch a ballgame? How did he live his days?

What did he plant in his garden?

Jim Siting

by Otis

If the rest of you are like me, Otis the Inebriated, then you must be tired of the lack of energy given by the creator of this so-called garden. Two posts a month just isn't going to cut it. That is why I have decided to make my own entry. I, Otis the Inebriated, will do my best to keep you updated on the happenings of Jim's life (or at least what he has left of one.)

I first thought of taking over this Blog the other day when I noticed Jim mowing the lawn. He's never done that in his life! But there he was adding gas from his new little red tank into his new little red lawn mower. I think he missed more grass then he cut. Hopefully when he mows the lawn for the second time in 35 years he won't leave little mohawks up and down the yard.

I've noticed Jim working quite a lot in the garage lately. Of course, since the move about a week ago 95% of what he and Chick own is still in the garage. I've been thinking of moving out there. Hell, there are a couple of recliners, two big TV's, a mini-fridge and a popcorn popper. That's more than I had in college. But, to his credit, he has been slowly moving everything into the house. And he has to get it done soon with the baby on the way. And speaking of the baby...

I couldn't believe what I saw last night. Chick actually allowed Jim to put together the Baby crib. The BABY crib! This guy can't mow a lawn, let alone clear out the garage. Doesn't she realize that her newborn baby is going to have to sleep in this thing? The next time Jim goes to the coffee shop I'm calling a carpenter just to make sure the crib won't fall apart.

In my eyes, Chick is still looking awesome. Sure, she's got a pretty big belly but she is as beautiful as ever. Don't tell Jim, but at night I try to cuddle up against her just to rub her belly. It's nice.

I really don't mind what Jim wears when he stays home. I too belive that underwear is very overrated. I have actually encouraged him to shed the khaki's and be proud to wear nothing but socks. But he won't go that far - something about still needing one more set of blinds on the glass sliding door. But hell, no one's in the neighborhood during the day except for a few construction guys. I say, if they enjoy the peep show, then good for them.

I know one of the reasons Jim doesn't put as much effort into the Garden is that he is still writing for that damned fantasy sports site. He has an article due every Sunday morning titled Points to Ponder. For some reason the stupid editor gave him a clean slate to write about anything he wants. What a lunatic! This week there's going to be a quiz to determine what kind of geek you are: Star Wars, Baseball or Football. I'll read it, but I'm proud to say that I'm not a geek whatsoever. Unless making your own beer is geeky.

Well, that's all I have for now. I know I don't write nearly as well as Jim but quite honestly, I'm drunk. I'll do everything I can to get Jim to plant more seeds in the Dandelion Garden. Don't worry, just come back.

Esscaping Another Cocoon

I woke up around 6:30 this morning - without the alarm. I guess that's still a habit. But it's a good thing. I needed to get up early for the big day I should I have in front of me. I'm meeting Chick at the baby doctor at nine. Then I'm going to make a few trips between our two houses, moving the the crap we've accumulated over the years. Somewhere I have to hook up with the electric fence guy at the new house. That will finally give Elvis and Elizabeth the freedom they've been whining for. And the evening should wrap up nicely with a minor league baseball game. It's going to be a busy and full yet exciting day. And the reason I am most excited is that the one thing I don't have on my list of things to do is go to work. As of today, I am retired.

As I look back through my life, and I often do, I realize that I have gone through many various stages. A few months out of high school I moved into a shabby apartment and lived on my own for a while. I tried going to classes but found it easier to go to work. I stayed there for more than three years before I decided to head to OU. After my five or so years in college I ran the family business. Six years of that was enough and for the last three-plus I've worked for my father-in-law. It's been a good, overpaying, stress-free job and for the most part I have enjoyed it. But I am very glad to be entering the next stage of my life.

I don't know what will happen in my stay-at-home, take care of the family, work on things I want to do phase. And I certainly don't know how long it will last. But it's going to be good. I know there will be days when the baby won't stop crying and the dogs won't stop barking and the cat will barf in the living room. But I'm pretty sure there will be plenty of days for long walks around the neighborhood and mornings spent in coffee houses. Both of those days will be better than any I have spent on the job.