As another Lame Cherry exclusive in matter anti matter.
I see by the calendar that it is December 13th, and you are reading this in the future on January 7th.
The above photo says it all, in we just got digging out a cave in on your Grandparents cellar, all by shovel, all by bucket and all by little feet walking and carrying 5 gallon buckets of dirt.
The digging this time was lovely, as caved in dirt is dry and it crumbles. The dirt which it was born from is clay, gravel and sand, which compressed by the world we live is about as hard as concrete as that is pretty much what the subsoil is.
None of this would have happened if the swindler who did this had not been swindled by the swindler who hired the swindler. The carpenter used posts which are rotting out, left the foundation not supported and left the dug out dirt exposed, which when it dried out caused the collapse.
This meant more work for me, but more evidence to God that we will care for this place and should have it.
What I'm writing about as we sweated a great deal in 44 degree weather, was the nice part in we sat on the porch and shared a beer, same porch my Grandpa gave me my first beer at like 12 and it foamed in my mouth on a 90 degree day as it was "porch cool" which was his version of basement cool which is not that cool either.
I loved that old man. He dressed in bib overalls, smelled of Copenhagen snuff, could not hear and he liked me. We talked a great deal as I was a shy child. I was not like my cousin who Grandpa told that if he did not talk so much he might learn something.
My other cousin who told me the story at my brother's funeral said, "Grandpa never told me that". No we knew enough to keep our mouths shut. She got to wash chicken shit off of eggs and I got to drink beer. I think she maybe got the better deal.
I really never figured I would after he was dead, be drinking beer on his porch. The first thing we did when we got back onto this place was to have a beer on that porch and today we did the same thing. I love this place for my Grandpa's sake. I remember him giving my dog huge chunks of deer sausage and letting her in the house for which I would have caught hell from my parents, but it was Grandpa and he had the omnipotent protection for a kid.
I can still hear him talk. Can hear him walk. I see him walking in the yard and the garden in my mind. I hope to God that this year we can put a garden in over here as I want to have that with him again.
It is just an old homestead house that none of you would ever live in, but it is Grandpas. He at on that porch a great deal in chairs now gone and it was cooler than the sun and you baked along with him, but we played cards as he loved to play cards........Smear was the game, high low, double jack, joker, and game. I can't say we every had fun, but it was always a pleasant time in the memories of Grandpa.
I had to work my ass off today for the pleasure, but it was worth it, as drinking a beer in December on my Grandpa's porch is not that often of an event which ever happened.
I believe now that he really enjoyed this place the way Beloved Uncle did, the way I do with TL. No one has for too long as they were more like critters in the soil than appreciating all that was above.
Still got work to do, and hopefully it will be another beer day, as it is not the beer, it is the sitting on the porch the way Grandpa would so many times in his so blessed life.
Nuff Said
agtG
