We are in for the evening from a family gathering to celebrate my sister's graduation tomorrow. We laughed a lot, and loud (we got looks from other diners). Even my bother was able to join us. Making it even more special, the other Wright family came to the restaurant (we're known as "the Wrights" too). They lived three houses over, in the house that belonged to my grandmother (where my mother spent her childhood).The Wrights were rednecks from the country who came to live in our little mining town because Mr. Wright got a job at Bethlehem Steel and he needed to shorten the commute to the mill. My home town (population 5,000) was the city to these folks. Their relatives, "back home," lived off the grid, on property they've held for generations.
They were three red-head daughters and a handsome dark haired boy a year younger than I, nicknamed "Boone." The best way to imagine Boone is to think of Syd: He's ornery and a brilliant instigator. Nowadays he has a small farm with a couple of horses and chickens. He gardens and does his own canning. He's a gifted artist--he makes the most beautiful quilts and he's quite the painter. Women swoon over him.
Many of my childhood memories involve Boone, his sisters, and their parents.
When we were in elementary school we (Boone and me and the Kiern boys) wrecked Mr. Wright's car. We were playing "Pilgrims" and decided to take the car for a turkey. Tom Kiern was in the driver's seat and managed to slip the transmission into neutral. The car drifted backward down a slight embankment and hit a tree. We were lucky to hit a tree, otherwise we would have drifted backwards over a steep embankment onto railroad tracks.
The Wright's had a little terrier-like dog (think Toto) named Spunky, who knew to come to our house the same time every evening for table scraps. Spunky was a randy little dog. He must have knocked up every female dog for miles. In those days, I had a morning paper route and I'd be about two miles from the house and I'd come upon Spunky making his way home from a night of whoring. He'd follow me home and then go to his house.
It was good to see Boone tonight. I don't recall the last time I saw him, but it's been at least 10 years. He looks so much like his father.
4 comments:
Glad you're having fun! :)
Boone must be lovely. [grin]
I'm really happy to hear that you're having a good time.
I'm smiling reading this. I'll be a ditto head and also say glad that you're having fun. :)
Isn't it odd to see childhood friends now, and notice how much they look like their parents? Karen, one of my BFF's from high school that I haven't seen in close to twenty years, sent me pics of her and her kids. All I could see in the pics of her was her mother. It was actually rather disconcerting to realize we're the same age now as our parents basically were when we were in HS.
How cool is that!
I love the narrative. We should all have Boone's in our lives, and you are quite lucky.
Post a Comment