We've Got The County Covered
We've Got The County Covered
By Kay Russo
Alice and Weston arrived at Grandpa and Grandma’s house at lunch time.
After some food, Grandpa took them out for a walk to enjoy the perfect spring weather. Grandma had a deadline and stayed home to do some desk work.
Back in the house, a stack of board games left over from their parents’ time caught the children’s attention.
“Herd Your Horses,” “Top Dog,” and “Mastermind” had to be lifted down from a high shelf and examined.
Neither Alice nor Weston is even close to reading, so the main charm of the games seems to be throwing the dice. Then neither player really knows what to do next.
Weston soon wandered away.
Alice showed Great-Grandma the Top Dog cards and wanted her to read the names of the breeds to her.
The color fidelity of the photographs was more suggestive than accurate.
“That dog is orange,” Alice said.
Great-Grandma said, “It’s a Great Dane. Real ones are brown.”
Alice studied the picture of the English sheepdog.
“That one’s hairy!”
The bull dog had a pointed face. Alice knew better than this and decided that Top or not, the dog game was going back on the shelf. Horses went back to the range.
Mastermind had too many pieces that were too small for fun and fit too tightly into the hundreds of holes. Good-bye, board games….bored games.
Grandpa had an errand to run to a farm not far away, not far enough to make Alice and Weston impatient, so into the car seats they climbed. They know the routine very well.
Grandpa drove, Great-Grandma came along for fun.
Grandpa said, “Maybe we’ll see the cows when we get there.”
Well, the cows were somewhere around but not visible, audible nor smellable.
It didn’t matter because a small rock garden was right there, with such a gentle slope that both children could walk up to the top without sliding on the cobbles.
Great-Grandma was a little concerned that the cobbles might roll underfoot, a child fall, the garden be disarranged, and there would be tears.
None of this happened.
What did happen was that Weston, who seemed to be enjoying walking around on top of the decorative mound, suddenly lifted his tiny foot and smashed it down in the middle of a small bed of perfect pink and white flowers.
Great-Grandma rather screeched. Someone’s loving care and skill with flowers was thrown to the winds.
Was Weston thinking that it’s really all right to stomp on flowers?
Had he wrought havoc somewhere, sometime, with dandelions, and was never called to account?
The pink and white flowers were sturdier than they looked. Not a stem was broken. Great-Grandma was able to fluff up the little patch to look normal again.
Imagine being so little and knowing so little about anything that it seems quite all right to stomp right in the middle of a clump of beautiful flowers! We are not born civilized.
At home again, Alice wandered off to find her own entertainment, while Weston tried once again to make friends with the cat.
Kitty-Cat is 16 years old. Weston is 33 months old. He has been trying for 24 months to make friends with Kitty-Cat.
She consistently slithers out of his arms and takes shelter in some remote part of the house.
It’s not that Weston is rough or even loud, though he does have a tendency to stroke her fur the wrong way.
It’s just that Kitty-Cat wants nothing and no one to disturb the even tenor of her days. Children do not out-placid an elderly cat.
Today she surprised everyone by lying passively while Weston put her to bed in the upholstered chair, covered her up with Great-Grandma’s prayer shawl, and tucked her in.
There the cat stayed for many, many seconds. Then Weston curled up on another but smaller upholstered chair and went to sleep too. Well, sort of.
He wiggled around trying to cover himself with a large knitted afghan that was bigger than the chair and the child put together.
“Shall I help you?” Great-Grandma asked.
Nod.
Name of scene: “How to play house with a cat.”
The rap at the door meant that Mother had come to take Alice and Weston home.
It was already half an hour past their (admittedly early) bedtime.
Weston was grimy and cranky.
Suddenly Grandpa volunteered “to throw some dinner together,” if they could all stay.
Mother bathed the children while Grandpa put together a very creditable meal for all.
Immediately after the salmon, the greens, the rice, and the pears, the visitors piled into the car/seats and started for home.
Mother said, “They will fall asleep on the way and not want to wake up when we get there.”
Thus ended another day to put away in the chest of “Good Growing-Up Memories at Grandpa and Grandma’s House.”
