A day like today, cold, cloudy and dripping, such as is happening at my current location in the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex, a long distance north of being Deep in the Heart of Texas, with the cold, cloudy, drippiness being quite unpleasant, makes me think that I don't know if I could adjust, ever again, to living through a Western Washington non-sunny season, which is, pretty much, fall, winter and most of spring.
But, I think I'd be willing to try to make that adjustment, because I do remember how blissful those summer Pacific Northwest days can be, what with their natural air conditioning, bright blue skies.
And blackberries. Growing wild and free for the picking.
Nothing that I know of grows wild and free for the picking in Texas.
Well, there is the pear part of prickly pear cactus.
That is Spencer Jack sleeping above. Spencer Jack's dad, my favorite nephew, Jason, emailed me this morning, with the above photo and a question about one of Spencer's relatives who lives in Tacoma.
A paragraph from the aforementioned email...
Picked Spencer up from school yesterday----he wasn't feeling well. Later that night tucked him into bed a little early. Said he was freezing. He was in sweat pants and a long sleeve shirt, covered by a sheet, a blanket and his bed comforter. Still said he was cold. Checked the thermostat in the house, which indicated it was 70 degrees. Grabbed a fleece blanket and put it over all his beddings. Went back to check on him. Still said he was cold. Drug out a Grandma Vera blanket, as seen in the picture. Must have been enough, as he was asleep in minutes.
So, Spencer Jack is ailing. I hope it's nothing serious. As soon as I saw the picture I knew what part of it was which Jason referenced, that being a "Grandma Vera blanket..."
More accurately a "Grandma Vera Crocheted Afghan." Grandma Vera was my mom's mom. I last saw Grandma Vera in July of 2002 when Spencer Jack's Uncle Joey and I dropped in to visit Grandma in Bellingham. I think it was that visit north in 2002. It may have been an earlier visit in 2001.
Anyway, as far back as my memory goes Grandma Vera had really bad arthritis, with her hands all crippled up. This did not stop Grandma from being a crocheting machine. No one knows how many afghans Grandma made. I know I have four currently in my abode. I am looking at two right now, folded up, in position to be used should the temperature drop too much.
In addition to afghans, Grandma crocheted caps, or whatever it is you call those mainstay headgears of skiing or a snowy winter day. I do not know how many Grandma Vera crocheted caps I have here. At least a half dozen. On a cold winter day, up in Lynden, near the Canadian border, if Grandma saw kids walking to school, capless, she'd go out and cover them with one of her crocheted caps.
I imagine to this day, in Lynden, on a cold day, you likely will see a head or two covered with a Grandma Vera cap.
Grandma Vera has been gone now for over a decade. That seems impossible. I think it would please Grandma Vera if she knew that over ten years later her eldest grandson was in Texas, talking about her on that newfangled thing, the Internet, which sort of annoyed her. Grandma Vera did not understand why everything was dot com this, dot com that. I remember trying to explain what dot com was, to limited avail.
I think Grandma Vera would be quite pleased to know her Great Great Grandson, Spencer Jack. I imagine by this point in time, if Grandma Vera were still alive, Spencer Jack would likely have a large supply of his own Grandma Vera crocheted afghans and caps.
Okay, I am feeling homesick and melancholy and sad now. Damn Seasonally Affected Disorder....
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