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Tuesday, July 19, 2011
It's get cool in the hollow of the evening...or...the magic of cantaloupes
11:35 PM | Posted by
David |
The recent heat wave that has moved across the Ohio Valley just won't let go. It seems there is no place one can go to escape it. I got up at 5:00 yesterday morning to finish the roof on my new storage building before the heat set in for the day...it didn't work. By 7:30, I was soaked and had changed in to my third t-shirt. I lost count of how much water I drank before I finished up around 10:30.
Sunday evening I walked out to sit on the stoop just after the sun went down. I wanted a breath of fresh air and, hopefully, give my back and heat cramped muscles a break. I was wrong. It was still so hot and humid, I came back inside. I got to thinking about living in Beaver as a young lad and, in the evenings after supper, my parents and I would migrate to the front porch. My dad was in the swing, my mother in the rocker and I always sat on the steps and leaned up against the house. Once the sun dropped past the ridge, my mother would always say, "it gets cool here in the hollow in the evening". I can still see her with the pale blue sweater draped over her shoulders and by the time the sun had kissed the moon hello, she would put it on. It didn't matter then how hot it was during the day. It was, in fact, cool in the hollow in the evening. I still laugh when I think about her saying to my dad, "I hope those people out there at Honey In The Rock brought jackets, it gets down right cool at night out there". It could be a Dog Day summer's day and she'd still say that. My dad would lean over the railing, let go of his Pay Car chew and ask if there was any cantaloupe. I knew then it was the signal for their bed time. One of my dad's favorite treats in summer was cantaloupe and ice cream right before turning in. It wasn't just any cantaloupe. It had to come from Chawback's Store. Better known to most in Beaver as Ransom's Market. I don't think it made any difference. Probably something about boyhood friendship that made them that much sweeter and hold perhaps a wee bit more ice cream. When my father was in the VA Hospital after one of his many surgeries, he all but refused to eat. Nothing seemed good to him. One day right before my mother was going to visit him, she told me to run up to Ransom's and get two cantaloupe. I worked at a grocery store, but they had to come from there. She took them with her and my dad ate all of one and saved the second for his supper that night. I guess those cantaloupes were magical.
After my parents would head off to bed, I'd take my turn in the swing. Often on summer evenings, Buddy Setlif and his band would send the melody of Bluegrass up the hollow. One of the reasons I love Blue Grass today. I can still hear a low harmony version of Fire On The Mountain... Positioned just right in the swing just as night was setting in and all was quiet, the shooting stars would appear. There was no light pollution then and it's hard to tell where they were crossing the sky but, for hours, I'd lay there and watch them. By the time most radio stations were signing off the air, I'd pick up WWLS in Chicago. I can still hear the advertisements in my head today: SUNDAY...SUNDAY...SUNDAY! It's the battle of the sexes at 200mph...see Big Daddy Don Garletts vs Shirley "Cha Cha" Muldowny at Downers Grove International Raceway...the Match Race of the Summer...SUNDAY...SUNDAY...SUNDAY!
Then the chill set in and my mother was right...it does get cool in the hollow in the evening. I'd wonder if there was any cantaloupe left?
Sunday evening I walked out to sit on the stoop just after the sun went down. I wanted a breath of fresh air and, hopefully, give my back and heat cramped muscles a break. I was wrong. It was still so hot and humid, I came back inside. I got to thinking about living in Beaver as a young lad and, in the evenings after supper, my parents and I would migrate to the front porch. My dad was in the swing, my mother in the rocker and I always sat on the steps and leaned up against the house. Once the sun dropped past the ridge, my mother would always say, "it gets cool here in the hollow in the evening". I can still see her with the pale blue sweater draped over her shoulders and by the time the sun had kissed the moon hello, she would put it on. It didn't matter then how hot it was during the day. It was, in fact, cool in the hollow in the evening. I still laugh when I think about her saying to my dad, "I hope those people out there at Honey In The Rock brought jackets, it gets down right cool at night out there". It could be a Dog Day summer's day and she'd still say that. My dad would lean over the railing, let go of his Pay Car chew and ask if there was any cantaloupe. I knew then it was the signal for their bed time. One of my dad's favorite treats in summer was cantaloupe and ice cream right before turning in. It wasn't just any cantaloupe. It had to come from Chawback's Store. Better known to most in Beaver as Ransom's Market. I don't think it made any difference. Probably something about boyhood friendship that made them that much sweeter and hold perhaps a wee bit more ice cream. When my father was in the VA Hospital after one of his many surgeries, he all but refused to eat. Nothing seemed good to him. One day right before my mother was going to visit him, she told me to run up to Ransom's and get two cantaloupe. I worked at a grocery store, but they had to come from there. She took them with her and my dad ate all of one and saved the second for his supper that night. I guess those cantaloupes were magical.
After my parents would head off to bed, I'd take my turn in the swing. Often on summer evenings, Buddy Setlif and his band would send the melody of Bluegrass up the hollow. One of the reasons I love Blue Grass today. I can still hear a low harmony version of Fire On The Mountain... Positioned just right in the swing just as night was setting in and all was quiet, the shooting stars would appear. There was no light pollution then and it's hard to tell where they were crossing the sky but, for hours, I'd lay there and watch them. By the time most radio stations were signing off the air, I'd pick up WWLS in Chicago. I can still hear the advertisements in my head today: SUNDAY...SUNDAY...SUNDAY! It's the battle of the sexes at 200mph...see Big Daddy Don Garletts vs Shirley "Cha Cha" Muldowny at Downers Grove International Raceway...the Match Race of the Summer...SUNDAY...SUNDAY...SUNDAY!
Then the chill set in and my mother was right...it does get cool in the hollow in the evening. I'd wonder if there was any cantaloupe left?
Monday, July 18, 2011
All things come to an end
12:50 AM | Posted by
David |
Fourteen years ago, I discovered a small wood sided house on the Little Kanawha River for sale. The dwelling wasn't much at all. But the place and the property had potential. I first visited the property in the fall and was hooked. The leaves were in full color and the property begged for someone to treat it right. Over the years, I added to the dwelling. I tried to create a coastal New England feeling with the way it was all done. Maybe only to me, but that was my intention. I have known floods, especially the bad one in Sept of 2004. Most got discouraged and moved away. I cleaned and rebuilt and braced for whatever was in store for the future.
On a visit to Savannah, Georgia, I cut some sprigs of ivy from in front of the Mercer House where the movie Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil was filmed. I planted the sprigs at the base of one of my large Maples and watched it grow and form a beautiful blanket underneath. I planted hard-to-find Lillies. Some my pride and joy. Especially the one called Valentine's Kiss, a dark red beauty that tends to last and last. I've been snowed in and spent countless hours in front of the fireplace with a book I couldn't lay down.
Akers Landing has known joy and heartache. Some of the most important decisions of my life were made out on the deck in the late night hours or just after dawn with a cup of coffee. I had all my kids and grandkids here for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner. Standing back listening and watching and wondering all the while where time has gone. My workshop has put out some beautiful furniture that now graces someones home. I've fished and boated from early spring till late fall when the river is lined with every color of autumn. I sat on the deck one evening last fall and counted 23 deer grazing in the field in front of my driveway. I had a squirrel named Fatso that became a morning delight to watch.
But it's time for a change. Time for a new adventure somewhere else. I don't know where for sure. But it has to be a place I can put my heart,mind and talents to. For it will be my last. I'll still have a love for the river. For water anywhere for that matter. This blog will continue with memories that flood my mind sometimes and I have a strong desire to share. As I look around the rooms tonight at all the things packed and the furniture I've built over the past 14 years, I have to say it's been nice. I've heard all the ridicule for living on the water such as I have. Those that scorned didn't walk in my shoes, or share the mornings I've had on the deck in the fall and spring. They haven't sat in front of the french doors with a fire roaring and warm, while snow built up on the pines. They haven't watched the marvel of Mother Nature at first hand as I have so many times. They didn't see the many smiles when I'd catch a hybrid bass on my fly rod in the spring. This house had heart and, at times, only I could see it.
I bought the property on the river for it's privacy and quiet. I tend to steer from people at times. Yet while there, I met neighbors who didn't know the term selfish. A couple,Joe and Janis Decator, who opens their home to children of all ages and never passed without a greeting or a smile. Saying good bye to these wonderful neighbors will be with a lump in my throat. It's difficult starting over at my age. Yet the thought of a new adventure, new designs and building works as a damper on that fear. As I looked around the near empty rooms, I thought of the times I walked the floors in the wee hours of the night screaming with headpain from the Clusters. Then as a flash video, I'd see other times of solitude, family and loved ones. I thought about the hanging scent of bread being baked and the smell of oak in the fireplace. I thought of waking at night hearing the ice break up in winter and watching a sight of nature few will ever see. I thought of my son yelling at me from the dock to get my camera as a large catfish was landed at night. I thought of neighbors sitting in the front room which is something I was not used to. I have no desire to replace Akers Landing...just cherish it. For I'm sure I will again have the comfort I built there. It will just take time.
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