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This week’s blog, you may have entered through the portal of P J Fiala
Her recently-published Designing Samantha’s Love
through the portal of P J Fiala
If you came straight into my blog, please take a moment to check out P J Fiala blog this week, too.
out P J Fiala blog this week, too.
When I married fifty years ago, my future husband told me to pick out and pay for our rings.
He would be providing the honeymoon – it was to be a surprise.
The surprise? We spent the three-day honeymoon camping. Camping on Lake Follensby in the Adirondack Mountain area at the then family camp in upstate New York; the structures within the site were wooden to waist high and then upper canvas sides and roofs.
The second night of the honeymoon, the first in camp, a mouse {I hope that was what it was} ran across my face.
The first time to use facilities, be greeted in the outhouse by a spider the size of a dessert plate in one corner and another small dinner plate size hanging in the opposite corner. Not a broom in sight and I a city girl with summer country roots.
We left our reception on Long Island and drove to Saranac Lake, New York. Our first stop for the night was to be spent at his ‘favorite’ sister and husband’s home. I had heard about Tootie during our courtship and this paragon had already earned her spot at the top of my ‘hate’ list. To be told we were to stay at her home on the first night of our marriage was ... dismaying.
The then ten to the twelve-hour trip was accomplished in eight in my husband’s MG. The beautiful Adirondack scenery sped by, clothed in a gown of darkness only broken by the high beams cutting a swathe as we climbed the winding Cascade roads.
We arrived at Tootie and Ron’s after one a.m to a house seemingly utterly mad. A man with arms a windmilling holding the screen door open with his left leg, followed by a bathrobed woman. Kerchief covered hair in pin curls, wielding a broom as a weapon in one hand, a can of beer in the other, and a cigarette held firmly between her lips.
This is Tootie?! Tootie’s real name is Ruth; why and how she got the tag Tootie, is hidden in family mystery.
We left our reception on Long Island and drove to Saranac Lake, New York. Our first stop for the night was to be spent at his ‘favorite’ sister and husband’s home. I had heard about Tootie during our courtship and this paragon had already earned her spot at the top of my ‘hate’ list. To be told we were to stay at her home on the first night of our marriage was ... dismaying.
The then ten to the twelve-hour trip was accomplished in eight in my husband’s MG. The beautiful Adirondack scenery sped by, clothed in a gown of darkness only broken by the high beams cutting a swathe as we climbed the winding Cascade roads.
We arrived at Tootie and Ron’s after one a.m to a house seemingly utterly mad. A man with arms a windmilling holding the screen door open with his left leg, followed by a bathrobed woman. Kerchief covered hair in pin curls, wielding a broom as a weapon in one hand, a can of beer in the other, and a cigarette held firmly between her lips.
This is Tootie?! Tootie’s real name is Ruth; why and how she got the tag Tootie, is hidden in family mystery.
The icebreaker antics were due to a flying squirrel who insisted on being there for our arrival. We were enlisted in the fray to encourage this bushy-tailed rodent to return to his or her family on the outer side of the door. How this was accomplished without their daughters being awaken, to this day, I do not know.
When sanity again reigned and introductions were made, we were ushered into the kitchen where a humungous pot of spaghetti was heating, awaiting our arrival. They had even delayed their eating to celebrate with us.
Ron and Tootie were in the process of building onto their home during this period of time. Their bedroom was made up for us to enjoy the first night as man and wife, but we were told some construction was still in the building process. Not something we would have noticed.
How can one keep a person on a ‘hate list’ when they keep their kitchen open all hours to feed the family and an unknown bride? How can one even think such a jealous thought when given their bed while the hosts bunk down on the living room floor?
The three honeymoon days are a blur of meeting the people important in my husband’s life. Very few of all I met can I recall, but my first meetings with his older sisters were memorable.
His eldest sister Joan and her family while not as madcap as his ‘favorite sister’ and family, had their moments too. Their daughter Linda recently had open heart surgery to correct a hole in her heart. Linda almost three years old and very proud of her operation…and the scar asked us if we wanted to see it, as she whipped up her shirt. (Excerpt from Tootie, Our Favorite Sister - a memoir for her children)
and our nights had camp fire snuggling, and star gazing.
Our life together started unconventionally and has continued in the same vein.
Photo's courtesy of Dreamstime.com, free photo archives; Virginia Shene Whitelaw; Stephen Gregory Shene; and, Paula Shene
Revenge
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