This is gonna be a post which many of you would say is true to my form -which is to say, it has NO form! A little of this, a little of that and the only connection is that it's now something part of my memories.
First off -I'm gonna give you a couple Maya-isms. As you know, since her vocabulary began to kick in about two years, it's been a really fast moving thing.
Late this afternoon, I got a call from my older daughter and she relayed to me a little tidbit of a conversation she had yesterday (Sunday) morning with Maya. As you may recall, I mentioned in my last post that Maya had gone to spend Saturday night with Aunt Carrie and Uncle Robert. Since Christmas, Maya had gone "full-speed ahead" into the "Why" question zone. The drive. you. crazy. stuff with one "why" question piled on top of the other till you reach a point where you really have no answer you can give her except the old standard "Because!"
Well, Sunday morning, Maya was up, awake and doing her thing -which translates to that she was exploring Aunt Carrie's house. In particular, she was exploring Aunt Carrie's bedroom and also, trying to get Aunt Carrie to fully wake up too.
In one corner, she happened upon a fantastic find -well, to Maya it was fantastic. Carrie wasn't all that happy about it because it was an arrow belonging to Uncle Robert. Maya apparently started out just asking Aunt Carrie what it was and got the easy answer -"An arrow." I don't know that they got into a big discussion about what an arrow is but the question turned to "Who's is it?"
Carrie said she hadn't slept all that well Saturday night so was having a tough time trying to open her eyes and to keep them open too.
She had already told Maya to leave the arrow alone, not to touch it. But Maya -being Maya -kept repeating the question as to the ownership of said arrow. And Carrie kept telling her not to touch it because it was not hers.
She went into a dialogue (she thought) with Maya about not touching things that don't belong to you when you are in someone else's house -the whole nine yards on that bit and still, Maya persisted in asking "But who's is it?"
After this being repeated many times, Carrie firmly, very firmly, reiterated that Maya was to leave it alone, DO. NOT. TOUCH. IT. because it doesn't belong to you.
At the change of tone in Aunt Carrie's voice then, Maya gave her a look, cocking her head a bit to the side as she asked in a kind of snobby/snotty tone of voice, "Does the person it belongs to have a name that starts with R?"
Carrie forgot about another thing Maya has been learning -how to read, how to spell lots of things too! And just in case you forgot, I mentioned at the beginning of this story that the arrow belongs to, yep -Uncle Robert!
This morning (Monday, that is) Mandy and I were talking about Bill's health issues as he was sick all day yesterday and not up to anywhere near par today too. So Carrie had called the doctor and made arrangements for him to have an appointment this afternoon.
Anyway, in the course of our conversation, I mentioned about how a former neighbor of ours - a very close family friend of my grandparents, of my Mom's entire family and also who my kids knew too as he was still living when they were young. Back in the mid-50s, Albert -the neighbor -was sick and things went from bad to worse. He was doctoring but not getting the least bit better. Even ended up in the hospital for a couple weeks and for a time, it looked like he was not going to be around very long. Lots and lots of stomach issue problems.
Somehow -I don't recall how now -he ended up under the care of a different doctor who said Albert had ulcers and he prescribed that he take three doses of Maalox every day -before each meal -and within 3-4 weeks time, Albert was up and around, picking up strength, appetite -the whole nine yards very quickly. After that till the end of his life, he followed that doctor's instructions and took a dose of maalox before each and every meal.
I told Mandy too that when I was pregnant with Carrie -my firstborn -I virtually lived on milk, maalox and ice cream for the last 3-4 months before Carrie arrived. It was a livesaver to me and kept the heartburn down as much as possible for me.
While we were talking though, Maya was sitting on the loveseat and we didn't realize how much attention she'd apparently been giving to our conversation until she tossed one of her questions into the mix.
"When was I pregnant?" was her question of the morning.
Mandy and I both howled, teasing her, telling her we both hoped she had not yet advanced to that stage in her life.
Then, a bit later this morning, my son came down and was sitting on a stool at the counter in the kitchen. Kurtis was romping around, doing his normal running back and fort, burning off tons of energy -or at least so one would think. I know if I moved as fast as he does, back and forth from the kitchen to the living room, I'd be whipped -totally -in probably about five minutes.
But anyway, he was jabbering a way and kept point to Uncle Clate and saying "Un A" or that's what it sounded like to us. I told Mandy that I think because he would say that and then point to Uncle Clate that it was his way of trying to say "Uncle Clate" -shortening "uncle" to "un" and not bothering to pick up the CL of Clate but rather, just saying the long A sound of his name -Clate.
However, Mandy didn't think he was calling his uncle that at all but she started to tease him, pointing to Clate and then telling Kurtis that Uncle Clate's name is really "Moron" and then encouraging him to say that.
And yes, in short order, there wss Kurtis, looking at Uncle Clate, pointing and trying to say "moron!" I know, I know -we're evil aren't we, teaching a three-year-old to call his uncle moron but then again, a while back, when Clate pulled up in front of the house one day and I asked Maya who was coming, her reply then to me was "It's just "ding'dong!" Yet another "pet" name that Clate often gets called by his sisters and me from time to time. The other name Clate gets addressed as a lot from us too is "Nummies" -which is our version of calling him Numbnuts.
It's all okay -we really do love him to pieces. Just wanted everyone to know these names are all said with lots and lots of love behind the -and a whole lot of picking and teasing along with that too.
The other thing I wanted to mention tonight came to me via an e-mail from a very good friend who lives up in Allen Park, Michigan. Seems another of his acquaintances around here had sent him the url pertaining to an auction that will take place on May 2nd. The restaurant where Mandy worked here for about 3-4 years has been on the market for about two years now -slow, very slow economy in this region and it's still up for sale. But now, the owners -Jim and Charmaine -are having an auction on the first Saturday in May and all the contents of the restaurant, bar, hotel plus the property itself is also going to be auctioned off then too!
My friend Jefff, had mentioned in his note that he would like to purchase the two-keg system that will be auctioned off, along with several other memento antique items that will be sold. He figures if he could get that keg set-up though his wife would really "LOVE" that however, I know full well he was being extremely sarcastic in saying that too!
He also made mention of how sad it makes him feel to realize this place is now going to be part of the past history of this region. And it's something that makes me very sad to see it disappear too.
I remember when Charmaine's Dad first built the basic building back in the mid-50s and operated an Esso/Exxon gas station there along with a little lunch counter type restaurant. I don't remember now what year Jim and Charmaine bought the property from her dad and transformed it into the restaurant, then the bar and hotel too that it was until they closed operations the end of July last year, but I sure do have lots and lots of great memories associated with that place.
When I was in high school, I often babysat Charmaine and her three sisters and two brothers while her Mom ran the restaurant/gas station. If I wasn't at their house babysitting the kids by myself, I was there with Charmaine's aunt -my friend Rose (who you saw on my post for last Friday about the special lunch gathering some of my classmates and I had that day. And if I wasn't there at the house, odds are I was up at the restaurant, sitting at the counter, drinking coffee and talking, keeping "Aunt Helen Ann" -Rose's sister and Charmaine's mother -company till she closed down at night.
Because I can't begin to list all the stuff that will be auctioned off, but I can show you pictures of many of the items from the auctioneer's website, I decided I would do that here.
Check this link out!
http://www.auctionzip.com/cgi-bin/auctionview.cgi?lid=609584&kwd=&zip=16858&category=0
It has photos of all the restaurant and bar equipment along with many, many of the great antiques that will also be gone -existing only in my mind's eye then after that date. (I say that because I know that no way would I be able to afford at all to place a competitive bid and acquire any of these items -much as I sure would love to be able to do so!
I'd love see the building be purchased by someone who would come in and run it again and hopefully, be able to make a go of it too. It's something this little village really does need and I do hate to see that disappear completely too. I had hoped that one of Charmaine's cousins would be in a position to maybe purchase the place -I know he wanted to do that -but apparently it's beyond his financial reach at this time.
Just sad, really, really sad to see something that has played a very large part of my life disappear.
See, I told you this post was going to be some strange combinations of topics, didn't I?
Now, maybe someone reading my blog will think gee, that place has a lot of potential after all and maybe I can get it for a good price too at the auction.
Now that's a thought, isn't it?
1 comment:
Love the Maya stories. Reminds me of when I learned to spell. My Mom said something to my Dad (I truly don't recall what) and spelled out something in it. I piped up with what she had just spelled, proud as could be. They never spelled in front of me again (nor did I hear any interesting and juicy tidbits, either. If I had been really smart, I would have kept quiet and I could have been a little secret agent, using knowledge gained through spelling to get things I wanted. But, no...)
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