HIGH BUTTON SHOE

HIGH BUTTON SHOE

High Button Shoe

the farmupdate

..as is often the case on the farm, or with me, I don't know which, my days start out somewhat in a scheduled fashion and then rather fall apart as the hours pass. Today was one such day. With orders to ship, I find I cannot find one packed box of things, so that order will be delayed until I can find the box! You will recall I started out with detailed lists taped to the boxes, so I would know at a glance what was inside. And in the end, just put things in boxes as my brain and energy was sick of packing. That only works if you by chance are looking at the right boxes in the first place. If you aren't, it doesn't.

So orders will go out Monday rather than today. And I will spend the weekend searching thru boxes.

My afternoon was spent going to Home Depot to get a new finish nailer for Ronnie as his went kaput, right in the middle of son Steve's house building. Murphys Law comes to mind. And while I had the model number and the description with the name all written down on a piece of paper AND Ronnie had called the tool department there to inquire if they had one in stock.. of course, the model numbers don't match, thereby throwing me into my brain function breakdown. What did Ron tell me? Like I remember. I only have this piece of paper, with a faulty model number I specifically wrote on my list just before I left. AND I know what the nailer looks like, but I know what it looks like OUT of the box. Not IN the box, that you cannot see the nailer in. So I put on my pathetic look that serves me so well, and dragged myself to the checkout/contractors desk to the one man I know there, to use their phone to call Ronnie to find out what it is I am here to buy, because of course my cell phone is home in the desk drawer. I know. Don't even ask me why? Besides my cell phone doesn't work inside Home Depot. This I know from previous attempts to buy things that the buying process didn't go too well on either. So I have the finish nailer. AND hopefully I have the right kind.

My trip to town, also to get groceries ON a holiday Friday yet (what WAS I thinking??) was also to make a trip into the funeral home for visitation, as our son's best friend lost his valiant battle with leukemia on July 4th. Ronnie Raven was 43 and a wonderful man. Raised side by side with our son, and all the mischief these two could get into on adjoining farms continues to run thru my mind. Steve's nearly every sentence growing up, started with "meandronnie", as if it was one word. While at the visitation, I visited with the funeral director, before leaving. Yes, unusual, I suppose, you are thinking. But in a previous lifetime, (pre-shop owner), I worked for years at the country cemetery a couple miles from here. At first helping Ron's folks with the mowing on the graves. It is a old cemetery dating back to the 1870's, with the first settlers here, and the stones are large and wild flowers grow across the graves. When Dad got too old and could not care for it anymore, I took over the job. I loved it! The very long dead people whose graves only had wild flowers became mine. Anyway, along with mowing, I buried people (we dug graves with shovels by hand). How's that for finding out a person's occupation? So I became good friends with the funeral directors. Which brings us to today. I had previously told them, that upon my death, I wanted my body "fixed up good", complete with my sagging bust line, rather than under my arms laying flat on the coffin bottom, that they should be"perky", to which they, after broad smiles, agreed to take on that challenge. Today I told them of a change in plans I have decided on, that they need not waste their considerable talents on my sagging bust line, as I intend to be cremated instead. And told them of my visit to Mrs Seeleys farm last year, upon the death of her husband Ed and how moved I was for his celebration of life. Where upon, he told me that my beloved Mrs Seeley died last night.

So, my Mrs Seeley's red mittens will be done when the last ones are gone. And I will miss this 81 year old delightful woman. We saw her just two weeks ago and all week I had planned to run over to the nursing home again for a visit, but didn't. Now I wish I had.

So our next few days will be funerals. And in between searching boxes. And trying to see what I have to wear, as I have given most of my clothes away, and what I tried on today is too big. I continue to lose the weight. A total of 49 pounds since March 17, naked on the scales this morning. And 59 since many of you have seen me. When I get model tall and thin, I will send you all a photograph. NOT! Hate having my picture taken!

I did get some new photos taken for tilda collections but don't have the descriptions typed yet to send on to Beulah. But they are coming! I am finding more and more things I can part with. Many are too big to ship so we may have to have a "pickup" sale.

For you new to the newsletter, I apologize right off the bat, that this one is filled with death notices. If you have been here long, you know how important Mrs Seeley was to me. If you have been here 3 years, I will tell you that the 3rd anniversary of equally well loved Esther Gaffney's death is coming up on July 10th. Her death remains unsolved, with no suspects. As I told you 3 years ago, please whisper her name, to keep her memory alive. I often think of her muddy road and driveway filled with holes, her non-hairdo, and her beautiful 80 year old face, filled with lines and wrinkles, twinkling eyes and a quick smile, and my time spent with her. My heart breaks for the thoughts of her last moments. I am drawn to eccentric women it would seem, and fear I probably am becoming the same as them. But both these women lived LIFE to the fullest, regardless of circumstances and I loved them both.

ok... I wrote you merely to tell you that Mrs Seeley has died. We will continue to sell her red mittens until they are gone. We have a limited supply of white ones.

Our weekend will be one of sadness for 2 people we loved very much. One old, one not.

Thank you for asking to be a part of our farm.

Should you decide not to, just let me know and I will take you off the list. This letter is more unusual than most, so give me another chance. This letter is for people who have been here for awhile and know Mrs Seeley though me and my writings of her.

Thank you for your support of our work.

In fond regard,

Clotilda