Visiting Home: Jeannie, Gerry, and Jake

Life at Woodsong has been different this past week as a couple of our kids were in and out all week. Jeannie started the visits on the 8th. She had texted she might be down for a one-day visit if she could get her school work done enough to feel free to come. Next she said she was definitely coming, but she would have to attend a funeral at Johnston City during the brief time she was here. She did arrive that Saturday morning having stopped at motel on the way down. We had a good visit before she needed to leave for the funeral,

Come to find out, a very dear Freeport friend's mother had been on life support and had died upstate, but was being brought down state to be buried by her husband in one of our area cemeteries. Since Jeannie was already hoping to come down, that made it possible for her to attend the funeral.

After the funeral back at Woodsong, we continued catching up. I had been eager to hear about how she was adjusting to teaching art with kindergarten through fifth graders. I was afraid she would not enjoy working with younger kids, but I think she is enjoying the challenge. She teaches at two schools this year. One has a small art room; but at the other school, she has to teach from a cart in other teachers' classrooms. Now that is a challenge! Altogether she sees 500 students, so I do not know how she will be able to know her students very well. There is evidently sometimes another new art teacher co-teaching, but I did not understand how that works. I cannot imagine how one teaches from a cart going from room to room! Yet she does. She has been teaching already about lines and curves, and I saw some of the simple sculptures of colored paper strips made by students.

She had insisted she wanted to take us to dinner Saturday night, so we let her. That was very nice since there was no clean up--and then we came home for more visiting. Finally after her daddy went to bed, we ended up in the living room with Jeannie on the couch along with piles of small blue rectangles containing bolts. Lighting bolts, that is. Bolts on the blue flags. One of the two elementary schools she has shifted to from middle school are called Bolts—not bulldogs or cardinals or some ethnic group that would be criticized but Bolts! The kids would be walking in the high school Homecoming parade and waving their flags, and she was taping on crepe paper streamers before the kids taped on pencils to hold the flags to wave. Although Jeannie has never been a “Let's all do the same thing” kind of art teacher, there were lessons used with the flags. The difference between students' work was interesting. Some of the hand drawn bolts were quite clearly bolts and showed talent and/or neatness. Some few were almost blobs, and probably those children whose past had contained little manipulation of paper, scissors, and creating learned the most from the experience.

A couch full of art stuff was so typical of one of Jeannie's visits that I had to laugh. One pre-Christmas visit she was helping students create 1,000 cranes for decoration. Everyone at Woodsong was invited to join in that Origami project. I had never heard the Chinese/Japanese legend of their crane that lived a 1000 years and that making 1000 cranes would let a person's wish come true. From the 1700s until now, many people have found themselves trying to create 1000 paper birds. The cranes had life-long mates and came to stand for loyalty and faithfulness. They also have come to stand for world peace and healing and almost all good things. If you want to know more about the paper cranes, you might want to read Ari Beser's post “How Paper Cranes Became Symbols of Healing in Japan.”

We talked and talked as Jeannie taped the streamers on the flags, and it was much too late when we went to bed since she was leaving at 5:30 Sunday morning planning on stopping somewhere along the way to attend a worship service. Gerald, of course, was up at 5:30 and saw her off on her way upstate after the too-brief visit.

Soon our minds were focused on the coming visit of Gerry who was on his way from Texas. His bedroom was waiting for him; but it was actually already day time when he arrived on Monday after a two-hour sleep in the truck on his way here. (Yes, he did take a nap after arriving.) Bouncing around in our side yard were three adorable puppies--curly-headed black Boykin spaniels, which Gerry explained were the only hunting dog developed in he United States. He also had Vickie's Nelly because she was in heat, and also Jake, who used to live at Woodsong. One of the puppies was for Gerry's cousin DuWayne, who was good enough to keep all of them and also Nelly while Gerry traveled in and out of Woodsong. When DuWayne brought the Boykins back on Friday night and helped Gerry prepare for the trip back to Texas, he reported the grandkids there had a blast with these sweet good-natured puppies.

Jake stayed with us and acted as though he remembered everyone, and to my delight, he still ran with his little tail curled. (Unfortunately, he also still stayed at Gerald's feet making him have to slow down and watch out for tripping. So Jake went back to Texas after his visit home.)

Throughout the week, we had visiting time with Gerry—especially Gerald who was always helping when Gerry was here at the farm. Gerry was actually here on dog business, and I couldn't keep up with it all. There were bird dog deliveries or purchases at Atlanta and Birmingham and up near Chicago. And there were visits to Union County and with dog/hunting friends in Paulton and Hamilton County. Because his time schedule was so dependent on dogs and other people, Gerry insisted I not cook for him. However, as is typical of his visits, soon there was a plastic pail full of dove carcasses soaking in water in the garage fridge. Although he planned to run to town and get us barbecues, I think he liked it that I had already started frying the doves to go with biscuits and gravy for that supper. At least he bragged on it, and I felt I did a good job of seasoning everything.

Mary Ellen came over to see him when he wasn't here, so I had a good visit with her. And I even had a brief visit with our nephew Bryce.

When Gerry pulled out of the driveway Saturday morning in his pick-up followed by a trailer full of bird dogs, we recalled  those long-ago trips to Mexico for a season of hunting at his lodge. He delivered dogs and arrived home in time to rest up for his job at A&M.

The day after Gerry left, Gerald found the news release from the ScrapYard Dawgs announcing Gerry as head coach for the 2017 National Professional Fastpitch season. Guess this means we have one more team to follow next summer after the college softball season ends. Probably this is a good thing for us. Doctor, eye, hearing, and dental appointments are our major activities in this decade of life! If the kids had not come, that was all I would have had to write about!

Jake and Other Late Summer Pleasures

Jake, the little black and white squirrel dog who lives at Woodsong, takes afternoon naps across the driveway beside the garden. I like looking out the kitchen window and seeing him at his special chosen spot underneath the shade of the sweet gum tree that Gerald planted a decade ago. This is where he quickly takes any proffered bone. He much prefers a table scrap to the dog food that Gerald provides in the bowl in the shop, and Jake carries morsels there to enjoy. I wondered this afternoon if he is dreaming of squirrel hunting.

Our great grandson Aidan woke up from the Georgia football game the other Saturday afternoon talking about coming up here to squirrel hunt. I wonder if that was what Aidan had dreamed about. Obviously we need for Jake and Aidan to get together. Gerald believes Jake is ready for his first season of squirrel hunting since throughout the summer he has treed a turtle, moles, and bugs and raised quite a ruckus doing so.

This evening before Gerald had even reached our lane with his tractor, I saw Jake alert and running briskly towards the road. He must have recognized the sound of the tractor long before he saw it. I don’t like it, but he chases and barks at cars and trucks of visitors despite our scolding. Yet he never barks at our car or Gerald’s pickup. He does come down the road to meet either of our vehicles and lets us know how glad he is to see us.

Now that we have finally had rains, the black and white moving spot he makes on the landscape bouncing through bright green green grass somehow makes me happy. His little tail is held high in a near perfect circle above his body. If I walk to the mailbox, he will be my companion as he is every morning to Gerald when he walks down the lane to get the paper. Jake soon tires of my slow walk and is off on jaunts through the fields on one side of the road or other. But he will come back periodically and check on my progress.

Not only has the grass revived its color, but today I saw three yellow day lily blooms beside the house and several buds promising more. Then I realized that their brown foliage that had looked so ugly this summer was again green. I have neglected all the outside flower beds because it has been much too hot to go out and work with them. With the cooler weather at hand, my excuse has gone away. I am sure I can find another.

Gerald greatly reduced his gardening this year, but the okra, tomatoes, and cantaloupe he planted are all on our meal table frequently now. Summer is ending with many pleasures.

A New Puppy Named Jake

After his bird dog King feasted on the almost ready-to-be hatched duck eggs beside our front porch, Gerald had declared no more dogs for him. Back then we still had hopes of being able to regularly hatch baby ducks at Woodsong. King went back to our son Gerry. The duck dreams vanished, however, because the wild critters won that battle, but the dog pen was gone and so was Gerald’s enthusiasm for dog ownership.

Yet at Thanksgiving this year, Gerry’s friend Steve Smith loaned Gerry a squirrel dog. Gerald and Gerry had a good time hunting with it here before Gerry took it back to Georgia. Gerry had wanted something special to do with his grandson Aidan, age 5 1/2, who is as active a little boy as Gerry was. Together with Steve’s squirrel dog, they explored Georgia forests and met all kinds of interesting people and thoroughly enjoyed their outdoor grandfather-grandson times.

Gerry brought the dog back during Christmas vacation to pass it on loan to yet another friend, but again Gerald and Gerry had a good time in the woods with Steve’s talented dog.

Gerry decided his dad needed another dog. Actually Gerald said it first, but Gerry is the only one to make such things happen. (In fact, very recently another dog trainer friend has given Gerry an $800 dog which will be waiting for Gerry and Aidan when softball season is over. The pricing of dogs is always a mystery to me, but that was the quoted price of this free dog.)

Soon Gerry called to tell his dad that there was a squirrel dog up at Mulkeytown from good stock at a reasonable price, and Gerry thought Gerald would be interested. After two or three days of bouncing back and forth as to whether he really did or did not want a dog, Gerald decided he should at least go look at the man’s dog. But, he said, he did not think he would take the dog because he was not positive he wanted another dog. I smiled knowing we would soon have a dog on the farm.

As expected, Gerald came back with a little black and white dog named Jake in his truck after he stopped in town to buy a collar, dog food, and other paraphernalia that might be needed. Jake is half mountain cur and half border collie. I did not know there was a breed called mountain cur, but you can google it. I am a believer in hybrid vigor, so I do not doubt how smart Jake is when Gerald says so.

Jake is very friendly and I like his running out to meet the car when I return from someplace. I have been sneaking a few meat scraps out to make him like me, but that might be a mistake because now he is expecting me to treat him. He may be a mite more friendly than I would like. His size and colors remind me of my childhood dog Lucky although Lucky had more white markings. Actually Lucky was my brother Jim’s dog, but Jimmy was kind to share his dog with me. I spent a lot of time sitting on the porch steps petting and talking to Lucky.

I have enjoyed looking out the kitchen window and seeing Jake following Gerald on the little yard tractor. Gerald likes it that Jake is snorting and tearing up the soft winter soil in our yard as he sniffs for the moles there. So far, Jake has not found a mole as far as we know, but Gerald is in perpetual battle with them as they invade our lawn, so now he will have an ally. I have had to learn to spell “squirrel” thanks to Jake. And like Gerry’s wife Vickie, I will undoubtedly have to learn to cook squirrels.

One of the grandkids was excited to think all the granddogs who visit here have a new cousin, but our friend Kim on Facebook explained that Jake would surely have to be an uncle, not a cousin. Dog relationships are complicated and easy to get out of hand, but so far we aren’t yet talking baby talk to Jake. That may come later.