neuroticgirl's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- peach ice cream and pea shelling seats Ian named his new bike Charlie. He loves it almost as much as he loved his old one. He sleeps with it. I'm not kidding. He's really nervous about someone stealing this one too so I let him bring it inside to his room at night. Last night I went in to check on them before I went to bed and there was Ian with the bike pulled right up to the bed, leaning against it. And he had his head on the seat. It was adorable. I could shoot myself for not keeping film around the house. I don't know what is up with me thinking about food so much lately. But now I can't get homemade ice cream out of my head. When I was little my grandpa grew peaches. And grapes, corn, cucumbers, strawberries, watermelon, snap peas, pecans, figs, and oranges. Probably more, I just can't remember. Anyway, during the summer we would pull out the ice cream maker and make homemade peach ice cream. We'd eat that and watermelon which he always put salt on and I never did. That was my entire summer. Growing vegetables and fruits, swinging in my tire swing and eating peach ice cream. My best memories involve my grandpa. One time we were shelling peas, I was 4. He was sitting on one of those spools. The kind that used to hold a spool of heavy cables or ropes. You know, like white trash coffee tables. Anyway, he made nets, cast nets and beach seines so he always had at least one of those spools in the backyard. I was sitting on the stairs of the porch. I was shelling about 2 peas to his 20. I'm quick like that. All of a sudden I burst into tears. He was mystified, trying to figure out what was wrong with me. Finally I blurted out "you have a special, sob, sob, sob, seat and I, sob, sob, sob, have to sit on the stairs!" Instead of pshawing me and my silly little dilemna he stopped shelling the peas, packed me up and took me to the docks. We hunted around in the various businesses (he used to own a shrimpboat so he had lots of friends there) until he found a miniature version of those big spools. He loaded it into the trunk and we went back home and resumed the pea shelling, him on his big spool and me on my little one. Every now and then I get terribly sad that my children will not remember what a truly amazing man he was. Now is definitely one of those times. I just miss him so much. I thought this was supposed to get better with time but it just isn't. It isn't getting better. 1:52 p.m. - 8.4.01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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