MRB's Talking Fingers

Father’s Day is this weekend … we are happy that our son and his wife are bringing both families together to honor Dads, present and absent, as an expression by the families. We will miss those who are not able to be with us, but know that their hearts will be here. My father was the first-born in his family, arriving in the winter of 1906.  The family tragedies in the first few years of his life, resulting in a major move to another country, contributed to his early maturity and diligence in his commitment to given responsibilities. He had little formal education, and in his late teens, became a cattle-driver in the Cypress Hills.     I was his favorite child… and his only child, arriving in his 34th year. He was my personal entertainer and playmate when we lived on the farm. He made sure that I learned about the important things in life, and supported my mom in my pursuit of music. Dad was a “people” person, and preferred to be known as ‘Gus’, and not by Mr. He learned to b

It has been quite a week at our little spot in the valley. I was feeling “a bit below the radar”, not so much about my health but about my appearance. I should have had my hair cut the week before this whole pandemic-altering lifestyle, but thought it would be good for a couple more weeks. Now it was a couple of months, and I was hoping that my dear hubby wouldn’t go and buy a dog tag for me. One morning, I had a “news flash”! We used to have our hair appointments in a city shop, and our favorite stylist was a certified barber and hair stylist. When she resigned and started a mobile salon, we mutually agreed that we would find someone in our town because she wasn’t interested in driving to any rural location. Why not call her and ask if she would cut our hair if I drove to the city to pick her up. “I can come by myself if you will give me clear directions,” she replied. “I would love to get a bit of ‘country air’ in my lungs, and a cup of coffee on your patio.” It was a lovely day

We’re having a quiet evening, and I’m telling myself to stop planning and start writing. It’s ‘throwback Thursday’ and if I don’t hurry, I’m going to miss it. Considering the news reports that we have been watching from our quiet spot, I recalled one of the first ‘major’ happening in our young son’s life… meeting new friends at kindergarten. Coming home from his first day at kindergarten, he excitedly told us that he has a new friend, adding, “Mom, he has the smoothest hair, and he likes my glasses!” His friend lived in a different community, so the boys didn’t travel on the same school bus. But it didn’t take long for me to have the opportunity to meet his new friend, when I visited his kindergarten. His friend did have very smooth and curly hair, and his skin was very black, a detail that our son didn’t seem to notice. Over the next several years, we had delightful times when the two boys had play times together. Different schools, different interests, and different location

Call it what you like… we are being we ll entertained at our home, in spite of the continued self-imposed isolation. Our last social outing was March 15th, altered briefly by three visits to our grocery store and one delivery of files to our accountant in the city. We miss the personal contact with friends and neighbors, and the friendly hugs that are our normal greeting. Thank goodness for telephones, especially for those who still are not connected to a computer… my beloved hubby being one of them. So, are we still civil with each other; still married? Absolutely! Why give up after what we’ve put up with for 57 years? When my husband has had his breakfast, he gets ready to go to ‘work’ in his shop, just as he did when he had a real job before he retired. He loves his shop that was, and still is, the site of his two hobbies… the rebuilding of several vintage tractors, and collecting and repairing vintage and antique telephones. Now he finds things that need to be repaired, repainted