November 04, 2007
Reminds me of a story....
I thought I had told y'all this story, but cannot find the post anywhere. So....I'll just tell you again.
Growing up, you'd have thought we lived on a working farm. Chores ALWAYS come first. No Matter What.
So Saturday's Dee and I would get up, have a quick breakfast and start to cleaning. Dusting was an art with Mama Vi. The devil was in the details, and if you missed any I can PROMISE she'd notice.
So we would dust. And polish. And dust. Then....depending on the season, we'd either get to watch some Saturday morning cartoons or we'd go outside to work in the yard or garden. Wasn't a bad way to spend a Saturday - at least looking back NOW it wasn't.
Anyway.......before Daddy died he and I had a tradition. After I'd get my chores done we'd hop into his old Ford pick-up and head to the salvage yard. Daddy was always tinkerin' with something, either trying to improve it or comin' up with some new toy of us girls.
We'd spend an hour or two just wandering around until he was satisfied that he had everything he needed for his next project.
Then we'd put his new found treasure in the bed of the truck and I'd climb in the passenger side of the cab. He'd stand on the other side, with the door open, saying good-bye to the guy at the yard. As he'd climb in to his side, he'd say the same thing every time.
"Well, we gotta go. I'm takin' my best girl out for a beer."
And off we'd go. To the drive in root beer stand. There we'd order ourselves an ice cold mug of root beer and solve the worlds problems. Well, at least the problems my 8 or 9 year old mind was preoccupied with.
Those are some of the most precious times in my memory. And you know - I was at least 12 years old before I knew that I wasn't REALLY drinking beer. :-) I took everything he said as gospel.
Don't know for sure why this has been in mind for the last few days, but it has. Hell, I even bought a big ole thing of root beer at the store the other day. And while it's really yummy.........I sure am missing that conversation part......
Posted by Tammi at November 4, 2007 06:17 AM | TrackBackWhoa. Sorry for getting your blog wet.
Posted by: pam at November 4, 2007 07:52 AMNow, see... if that comment had come from a man it would have sounded all wrong. Still seems a little wonky, but I trust you to know what I was talking about... ;)
Posted by: pam at November 4, 2007 07:55 AMI also remember times like that. My dad worked nights as a baker so when he had the time to do things with us we really treasured them. We always knew he loved us but because of the hours he worked we didn't get to see as much of him as we wanted. I am just glad that I got as much of him as I did because he was the one person who had more to do with any success I had in life and I really appreciate that. What I find strange is that even now when I have decisions to make I think I gotta talk that over with Pop - then I realize Pop died 26 years ago. So I just figure out what he would have said to me and go with that. Works every time.
Posted by: dick at November 4, 2007 03:27 PMMy Daddy is still alive but we don't get to do that type of thing much anymore. Breaks my heart.
However, I do remember sharing root beers with my Daddy. He loves Hires root beer. Hard to find these days. We'd pop them open and sit in the backyard doing about the same things you and your Daddy did. He also loved donuts so, on Sunday mornings before mom woke up (she didn't wake up until noon, usually) we'd head down to the donut shop and grab fritters and glazed donuts. He'd grab coffee and I'd grab milk and we'd read the funnies together.
Ah, good times. Thanks for the reminder.