Because I can't handle THIS!
And that doesn't even present the dilema of hundreds of clothing articles you need to put on and take off!! I can't even stand putting on and taking off my sweater! (which my grandmother liked to call: "a perspire-er", silly woman)
Christmas in California
doesn't require much,
sometimes shorts are just fine.
warning: This is NOT TRUE in San Francisco!
Don't be a tourist, don't wear shorts...bring a jacket...it's cold there! Especially in the summer!
But, back to the snow~issue at hand...
My grandmother-in-law lived in Rhode Island. I first met the family when I was just married. I bragged about being 6th generation San Franciscan, from way back in the 1840's.
They mumbled, "Gee how many generations has it been in Rhode Island? 13 or so?"
They are still there today!
Wow, I think that's a record. Do you know how small Rhode Island is?! (see tiny orange speck below Vermont above New York)
The cousins' home was an amazing 200 yr. old colonial, very lived-in house on an old farm. Gram lived on the same property. She was older so she liked the "heatnoil" furnace to RUN, Run, run!
Hard for a Californian to sleep in the 80 degree heat! Every morning Gram needed to throw open ALL the windows! In her charming old~fashioned New England accent she'd claim, "We must air the house, so no one gets sick!"
When my spouse got sick at Gram's, (it was winter, people get illnesses sometimes) she was worried sick. She ordered Uncle Tud to rub him down liberally with alcohol. Poor guy inhaled so much (in a stuffy 80 degree closed up cabin!) that he became really sick, shivering practically to death! That's what old New England cures can do. Lucky he's still with us.
Actually there are many lucky breaks which have kept him with us on the earthly plane, but I won't go into that!
Ask me not about motorcycles, nor old funky sports cars without brakes racing over the mountains. Do not ask about falling off roofs, backing into poles, or unnecessary speeding tickets. Leave me out of any mention of trading broken cars for broken motorcyles with a good friend. (did they tell eachother about the defects? No! Are they still friends decades later? Yes!) No hint, please of driving to Washington State without raingear on an iffy motorcycle in the winter. (Thank the Lord above that he didn't catch his death in the rain.) No mention of testing really old radios and getting such a shock that his teeth clanged, please!
Good God! I count the many blessings which saved my husband's butt over and over again! Speaking of saving, I'm ready to celebrate the Advent and Hope of the Savior this Christmas. I'm really ready, and with myriad cause.
My guy had a crazy-man reputation! But he was so calm when I met him at 20.
He's only fallen off the roof once since I've known him, although he still plays with very old radios.
He's just the nicest, gentle California guy. Really.
4 comments:
pretty cute, picture and stories. he looks like his son, eh?
all new englanders keep it that hot inside. I used to think they were trying to warm up the outside (the radiators would get so warm you'd have to open the window). but now I miss it so much.
stupid 37 degrees here, in a house built with NO fireplace or decent heating! I guess in the 20s folks in CA didn't mind a bit o' the chill in the wintertime.
I was just telling a friend about the old super 8s transferred to VHS long ago... with a mix of little B learning to walk, diane sledding as a little girl, a certain someone with no shirt, shooting guns?!, etc. maybe we should watch them xmas morning?
oh, yeah,
I forgot about the shooting gallery under the house in M.V.
God is everywhere.
:-}
Your guy Pear is to luv, that is for sure.
Our whole familyluvsPear.
DOES HE HAVE 100 RADIOS YET?
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