Wednesday, June 18, 2008

On a Sunday Afternoon

"Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd Anderson and family motored to Thief River Falls to visit Carl Bloom at the San. --Mrs. and Mrs. Benhard Ranum visited with the Peter Mellem family on Sunday".

These are logs from the Rosewood News in the late forties when people visited OR hosted guests on Sunday afternoons. It is not known just how the idea of who would host or who would be hosted. The purpose of mentioning it as that it seems to be somewhat of a lost art.

Children visit parents; parents visit children. For example, this after noon an email message stated....we are going to J&B's for supper.....

There is something very special in the author's memory bank about being with my grand parents when they visited their friends on Sunday afternoons. One time we went to Rosewood that I remember. The house was green with brown trim and there where lots of lilac bushes in bloom. My brother Greg was along, we disappeared outside to explore. We found tall weeds which may or may not have really been pig weeds but since the pigs were so close, we figured that was a good name for them.

We peeled off all the leaves and started switching the pigs, herding them, if you wish, as one would drive cattle. Perhaps neither Greg, nor I knew that running livestock ran off the weight.

Perhaps we didn't know the windows in the house were open and the owner's of said livestock good hear his herd rebelling. Nevertheless, the switching stopped almost as quickly as it started. After that, only I went with them and generally sat quietly as they visited their silver haired friends.

For as many years as I can remember, Mother visited Mae on Sunday afternoons. There were always plenty of kids in Grandma Mae's neighborhood to play with. Pierce's had chickens to look at as well as eggs to hunt for, LaCoe's had rabbits and an old Hudson car made into a play house, we could play hide and seek in the cemetery, until a moment fell on Susu and broke her leg. If nothing else, Valerie and I could watch Grandma Nelson wave her arms in the arm at the imaginary straw circling above her head. It wasn't until years later I realized that Grandma Nelson was stuck in the horror of dementia and the straw was real to her.

Afternoon lunch was served at 3:15 and Valerie and I would eat it on Grandma Mae's front step between the two huge beds of tiger lilies, after which we would play jacks. We always wanted to play rock hopscotch but the side walk had a hand cut half moon pattern in it not quite big enough to hop from cut to cut.

Sunday was always a day of rest and relaxation. The only stores open were the mom and pop stores in the neighborhoods, restaurants, the movie theaters, and in the winter, the arena.

Old Trunks had not thought about the lazy days called Sunday until coming home from the lake on Sunday. We had a lot of wind and rain at the lake and since the lake was still white capping, we left early.

We drove through Walker, which was in a bustle and on toward Akeley. Tom had turned Father's Day over to me and I suggested we look for a lake called Crow Wing Eleven. We turned off highway 200 on the west end of Akleley and were pleasantly surprised at the very nice and full campground and launch area.

We did not have a GPS nor a map, we were on an adventure. Generally Tom likes to know where he is at all times. We were now on highway 64 and he stated we were going to be going back to Walker. He said that since it was nearly noon, we could have a sandwich.

As you know, Tom is in a service and merchandise line of work. As I ordered for us, he stood by the cash register to pay. I picked up the sandwiches and found a table. He was talking to a man in his mid to late eighties about fishing. It turned out this man and his wife get their glasses from Tom. We shared a common table with them, visiting for about an hour until Arne stood up, which we all know is an announcement that he was ready to go.

That was what reminded me of what a sweet thing visited with someone on a Sunday afternoon was like. I am hopeful all of you have the experience of something as delightful as we did.

e

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