As I said in my last post, I am working by butt off. I did not mail out the usual letters to my regular schools asking for food drives this year. It didn't matter. I have three I have to pick up on Wednesday. I picked up cans from Becki's former middle school last week. The sponsor told me that she wanted to keep it running until Wednesday, and that she didn't have enough boxes to transport what she had then. I took some and left the rest. Another middle school in the district has over 2400 pieces for me. And Becki tells me that Gunnery Sgt. L. can't move desks anymore because the collection in ROTC has grown substantially. Two girls in her class competed amongst themselves. They brought in bags full. I still have another teacher at Becki's present school to contact. The AACA, or African American Cultural Awareness Club, is conducting a food drive as well. I can't even begin to explain the churches that are calling me. It is overwhelming.
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I am happy to report that we opened the warehouse early. We have the same spaces as last year. Rather than one large room where we constantly get in each others' way, we have 2 small rooms. One is for food and one is for clothing, toys, Christmas presents, housewares and the like.
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We had the most wonderful time on Saturday night. My brother and sister-in-law celebrated 50 years of marriage. They threw themselves a party at a local country club. We had fillet mignon, chicken and other things.
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More than that, we had great company. I'm sorry, but I hate assigned seating. I know people go to great lengths to make up place cards and to seat people exactly right. I have a very hard time getting to know people and my SIL is very bad at introductions. This time, however, she placed Bill, Ed, Becki and I at the same table with two cousins and my Uncle. Jon and Gloria sat with two other couples. They made themselves comfortable. They have better people skills than I do.
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My cousin, MK, and I used to celebrate our birthdays together. Her's is the 26th and mine is the 24th. We were very close. With age, though, we didn't keep up as we should have. Her brother, B., brought my Uncle. B. is recovering from a serious illness, so I was very happy to see him.
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Now my Uncle A. is one of those wonderful people who are so full of stories. He's my Mom's brother, and he is the last of his generation. I want so badly to get out to his home and interview him. I'm so scared that all those things from the past will be lost if I don't. During dinner he told us about a trip to California he took with my Uncle John, my Great Uncle Jerry in the 30's. They traveled along old Route 66, and it took them 2 weeks. They camped at the side of the road and at one point worked for money to buy gas. He talked about vehicle problems and the like. He also talked about the others. My two other Uncles were on my Dad's side. My Great Uncle served in WWI, where he had been gassed. There is no one alive now who remembers him outside of my Uncle A.
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The last time I saw my Uncle A was at my niece's wedding last October. Then he told us about serving in the Coast Guard in WWII. He told me honestly, and I give him credit for being honest, that he joined the Coast Guard because he didn't want to die. But just like everyone else, he was expected to serve somewhere. With the Coast Guard he was part of the first contingent of Americans to enter Nagasaki after the bomb was dropped. He helped search for wounded. Maybe because I am looking back over a filter of sixty plus years, I wonder how he did it. I think I'd rather face the bullets than radiation poisoning. I don't think anyone realized just how many survivors would later die of cancer. It amazes me that he has never suffered from it. I have photos he took, although there's no way to download them.
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He also spent time in the Civilian Conservation Corp. which was a New Deal organization designed to put vagrant young men to work during the Depression. It was a quasi-military group sponsored by the Government. Uncle A told us how he was first sent to Wisconsin to help plant forests. He said that he had a bag with baby trees in it. He and his comrades in arms walked side by side, a few feet apart, and planted these babies in nice, tight rows. When they finished with planting this forest, he was sent to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I'm not sure what his duties were there.
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He told us how he visited with his Mother's family while stationed in the Upper Peninsula. She had come to Chicago to work at the turn of the last century. That's when she met and married my Dutch Grandfather. Not a good marriage by any means. My Uncle said her family remembered her even though 30 years had passed. Her people were Metzi. I think I spelled that right. That's a mixture of French and Native Americans from the very earliest time when white people settled here. The tribe is the Menominee and they are still living on reservations in Northern Wisconsin and the Upper Peninsula. Needless to say I have a lot to pick from his brain before he passes.
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That leads me into something else. Again, I wish I had a scanner. Above is a photo of a photo. Before my Mom gave up living on her own, she asked each of us to go through the photos she had collected over the years and take what we wanted. I'm the last of 4, so I went last. I don't know how my brothers and sister missed this one. That's my Mom and Uncle A. from circa 1925. It was fashionable to take professional shots of children on or around ponies at the time. When my Mom passed, Uncle A. said that someone must have this particular photo and it was a shame not to show it. I was afraid of losing it.
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When the anniversary invitation came, this photo came to mind. I had it reproduced and framed for my brother and sister-in-law. I also gave copies to my other brother and to my sister, as well as three to my Uncle. My Uncle swore he never saw it before, and even claimed not to know who the pair were. My Mom and Uncle A. are so recognizable in this photo. The original photo is much more clear than the one above is. We put the framed copy on the table next to the wedding photo. Everyone who passed the table took a good look at it.
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I'm sorry I don't have photos to share of dinner. Mike is a very demanding cat. When he wants out he climbs up onto my desk and walks across it, right in front of the screen. One night I was working and didn't want to be bothered with him. He'd climb up and I'd set him on the ground. And he'd climb up again. After a few times he started kicking things off my desk. He was going to show me. When he wanted out, I should jump up immediately and open the door. I wasn't having it. I changed my mind when he kicked my camera, my beautiful, wonderful Christmas present from my kids from last year, right out from under my hand. It bounced off the floor and broke. I made sure Mike got out then. I just wonder who let him in again.
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And speaking of breaking things. Now that I got a brand spanking, new washer, my dryer bit the dust. I'm washing one load at a time and hanging everything to dry over a drying rack, and from cabinet doors, over the bread rack and freezer, over chairs, and doors, and the shower doors even. I have clothes all over the place. But thankfully, they are clean. I will make myself live like this for a couple more months. I have crap to pay off before I buy another one.
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Anyone notice the price of gas? My dear God! I put $20 in my tank the other day and nearly filled it up. It wasn't until later when I passed the same gas station that I noticed the price. I almost got in an accident! I was so surprised! It was $1.97 a gallon. And it's dropped since then! And they're saying that deflation is a bad thing? Not when gas drops to under $2 a gallon for the first time in over a year. I can deal with this.
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