GRANDPARENTS

The ole ranch hand has studied of late on memories from his grandparents place in Wright City.

Sitting on their front porch swing (or concrete porch steps) is a warm/fuzzy thought.

Sitting behind their house in the shade visiting or shelling peas or cooking bar-b-que or whatever is an experience I would love to repeat.

Walking down to Uncle Charlie's pond (next door) to angle for channel catfish or down to Uncle Reggie's pond in the back pasture to catch perch....priceless time for a young'un.

Thinking bout putting hay in Grandaddy's barn loft (he wouldn't allow doing it the easy way on the first floor of the barn....had to throw those 60-70 pound bales up in the loft from the unsteady footing of the hay trailer?)

Remembering helping G-daddy build a corral by the barn out of green oak lumber (that a lumberjack could not drive a nail thru)....the ranch hand could not for the life of him drive those nails without bending them so guess who had their hammer "retired"?

Going thru a barbed wire gate G-daddy built was a fine trial in strength and patience....he thought they were not functional unless as tight as a "fiddle"...and that made it a challenge to open for sure (and he would whip your butt if you left it "open").

Remembering them planting a few pecan trees beside their house and thinking even I would not see them bear fruit....and watching them pick carpets of pecans from the ground in short order.

Their incredibly productive garden, fat cows, pen raised quail, and G-mother's cooking was legendary.

.....and remembering that on the day of my mother's funeral my sweet sainted grandmother telling me that from that day forward she would be my mother....and loving her more that day that I could ever explain.

Damn I was lucky to have them.....