The plan from several months back was for Mom & Dad to leave their Montana winter behind and come down to Texas to see some sun and son (+ family). The trip launched as scheduled in early January, with their route taking them through Idaho and into California to visit my sisters before crossing the desert Southwest to Dallas. Here in Dallas we had hardly any rain from mid-October to early January with above average readings on the thermometer, just the pleasant climate our visitors from the North were hoping for. Nothing last forever, and since we here in North Texas have nothing between us and the North Pole but for a few barbed wire fences, the arctic cold fronts did push down to Texas at just about the wrong time.
On Sunday, six days before their arrival at our house, we had a 1-inch snow fall, which is always kind of exciting as an infrequent event around here. The cold fronts kept coming and patches of snow hung around on the northern exposure of roof tops and in small shaded piles beneath the ligustrum shrubbery. The last vestiges melted away early on Friday prior to their arrival on Saturday. Alas, the Texas Sun, so strong of a force most of the year was hidden behind high, gray clouds for several days.
Dad will be 80 next month, but you wouldn't know it by the amount of stuff he gets done. In fact hosting my parents is kind of like being adopted by a pack of Border Collies. I felt I had better have something for them to do, otherwise no telling what kind of mischief my folks would get into. We had a pile of clothes in the ironing basket stuffed in the laundry closet, teetering past the slope of repose. Mom lit into that stack of shirts, blouses and trousers and had them all pressed and hung back in our closet in no time flat - said she liked doing it too. Back in September I spent the better part of two days replacing all the parts in the upstairs toilet tank to staunch an insidious leak that defied my simple flapper valve replacement fix. I labored to cut off the rusted tank bolts to deal with other possibly faulty seals - no dice, the dang thang still leaked water-meter $$ down the toilet. Good ol' Dad, disassembled the toilet again, pointed at the suspect O-ring above bowl standpipe and scurried off to Home Despot, returning with a new kit. Viola! No more leak! [I thought I replaced that O-ring. Why else would I spent a day wrapped around that porcelain fixture, sawing off those rusty bolts? I guess I was so delighted to finally get the tank removed that I forgot what my purpose was]. To celebrate the fix, Dad took us out to Gojo restaurant for Ethiopian food and we ate our fill of lamb and seasoned vegetables scooped up with fingers full of the flat spongy injera bread (no silverware).
While this far south, Dad took the opportunity for a long-desired visit to see Vicksburg, Mississippi and tour the Civil War battlefield where General U.S. Grant laid siege to the city and forced the surrender of Confederate Gen. Pemberton on July 4th, 1863; thus splitting the Confederacy in two (divide and conquer) and giving the Union forces full control of the Mississippi River, allowing "the father of waters to flow unvexed to the sea" as Abraham Lincoln put it. Mom & Dad spent two days on the road to see Natchez, MS and then Vicksburg before returning to our home. While they were out of Dallas the sun came out and we had a pleasant day, unlike the rain that followed them across Louisiana to the Big Muddy.
A raw, bitter and windy cold front came to town about the same time as their triumphant return from MS. With the Vicksburg itinerary check off, it was time to find the folks more projects. I pointed out a couple of split branches on the backyard peach tree and an overgrown rose bush along the fence. I handed Dad a saw, and say no more - I soon saw a sawed pile upon the sod. Not only industrious, but resourceful, Dad then set upon the dead oak leaves that had blown over from the neighbor's with vengeance and a spring-tine rake. I think my Dad is very vengeful toward rascally unwanted leaves. Once the rascally leaves were herded into piles, they were deposited in the side yard to be interred as compost for Sue's Grand Garden (still in the planning stages). And of course Dad noticed that the side gate was out of kilter, so I set him up with a skil saw a set of socket wrenches and now the gate swings unvexed to the compost pile. Abraham Lincoln "the ol' rail-splitter" would approve.
Their quest for the sun went mostly unfulfilled, but it was great to have them around for a little while and enjoy some familial warmth. Our old dog was happy to get an extra set of fingers from Mom to scratch his haunches and our house is now noticeably improved from what is was before they arrived. The sun was breaking over the horizon for a pleasant day last Saturday, so as fate would have it, they had already packed the night before and were back on the road at 7:15 AM headed back to Montana. Leaving behind a
quart jar of homemade rhubarb-raspberry jam [Beebop-A-Reebop, love that rhubarb jam! 7 days later it is already half gone :-( ].
May a warm front rise up to greet you in your northward travels and may all your gates swing effortlessly open and may the waters flow unvexed - but not until summoned by the toilet handle. Good times and good results! Thanks for everything, y'all.
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