WE WASHED A SNAKE TODAY SEQUEL

 

"See a 'nake, see a 'nake?

"Yes, we see the snake!"

And the grandkids hop and run, exhilarated.

This is more to the original story.  Actually, this is more to the other story AND more story, part two.

Just let me go get a cup of coffee first, then I'll relay it to you.

***

Several days before this day, Miss Lilly had spied a snake, a dirty snake and proceeded to wash it - with little 2 y.o. brother looking on.

When she came over this time on Sunday, and she began playing with our black snake, it reminded John of part of the story I'd forgotten to tell.  To him, it was the funniest part, AND the most important part, 'cause the item was his. 

I'd went in the bathroom to see what she and Jacob were up to.   Miss Lilly was sitting Indian style on the floor with that reptile curled up in her lap.  And, in her little soft hand, she had one of John's toiletries, she was going to clean that creature with his electric toothbrush.  

"No-o-o-o!"

So, on Sunday, the 2 kids behaving quite well, they always do, we decided to play a game of Euchre.  Clint, the grandkid's dad, and I were winning 6 to 2, spades were trump, his back was to the family room, I was facing the family room.  I could see the stair's side wall, couldn't see the stairs as they face the other way, but...I could see the edge of Lilly's clothes, Jaocb's little hands as he went up a step, the toys being pushed to the edge and sometimes over just to hear the clunk and check the aftermath, you know how it goes with boys.  And then out of the corner of my eye something long and black flails through the air and swings back.  I toss an ace on the trick pile.  Shaking the visual like an etch-a-sketch,  and gathering the cards, I catch another glimpse.  Just like a water snake that black thing flew across the room!  

I shivered, oh, my lands!

The pièce de résistance of the evening?  

Miss Lilly asked for her ribbon.  

"Remind me, what ribbon?"  I asked.

"The big blue ribbon," she said.

I'd let her play with a first place ribbon on that other Snake Day.  

She jumps up and down in little girl excitement, including Jacob in her enthusiasm, as she finishes up in a higher pitched girly voice with complete confidence.

"We're gonna have a snake race!"

Victory V, arms up, big grin and ... a jump of exhilaration!

"And whoever kills the snake first, WINS!"

WE WASHED A SNAKE TODAY

We washed a snake today.

 

When my pre-school granddaughter turned him over, and poked his belly,  she said, “See? He’s got dirt.”  He was very muddy on the underside.

 

She wanted to give him a bath in the sink.

 

“No, we’re not playing in the water and giving him a bath!  Let’s just use wet wipes,” I compromised.

 

When I went in to check on her progress, Mr. Snake was foaming.

 

He was laying in a puddle of water and foaming!  Liquid soap bubbles were all along his black skin.

 

She said, “I need to use your hair dryer so he’ll be clean and shiny.”

 

“We’re not using my hair dryer on a snake!  Besides, snakes never shine!” I chimed.

 

Then she gave in, “I’m gonna put him right here so he can dry.”

 

Little brother looked from her to me to the snake and took it all in.  Rapt!

 

She leaned down.  She leaned carefully.  She bent over the edge of my pristine clean white bathtub and laid that black reptile all curled up on himself in there.  She stood up, proud & content, “He can dry right here.”

 

In her eyes, maybe, but really, that snake will never shine!

He was as rubbery as rubber can be.

"I Love Her The Best"

She lively stepped on stage this mother of a brood of boys, grandmother of 6, in her flouncy red Sunday dress, and set her two-tone gray felt, open-mouthed Target-trendy bag on the floor.

Bringing the microphone to her lips she greeted us, "Hello and good afternoon, everyone, I'M GRAMMY PAM!"

Applause, applause.  Applause dies down, she grins a big cheesy grin, "And you need to remember that!  Grammy....Pam!"  

"You see, I have the sweetest granddaughter, full of energy, imagination, and quite smart.  I babysat her the other day.  Her mother was sick, so granddaughter came to my house."

She turns and waves a hello to everyone, then reaches down in the bag and pulls out a string of pearls and drops them over her head. 

"Granddaughter sweetly asked, "Where's the drawing paper?"  I went to the computer and gave her 3 sheets of white 8 x 11 papers."

She reaches down into that same bag and pulls out a gray sweater into which she shimmies.

"And I need your crayons, where's your crayons, GrammyPam?"  So I went to my shelf of coloring books and crayons and gave her the container."

The lady on stage reaches in that bag again and pulls out a wig of short springy silver hair and tucks her long locks up into it.

"Granddaughter told me, "I want a color page of a leaf seahorse". 

She looks at the audience, "What on earth is a LEAF seahorse?  Do you know?  Me neither.  But she knew."

"We went to my computer, and BTW, it is mine, I purchased it.  Darling Hubby has his own in his den and we like it that way".  Here she winks at us like its a conspiracy that we're all in on -- when hubby retires, spouses go to their separate corners for bits of time and peace of mind.

"This computer is mine.  So, I typed "Leaf Seahorse" into the address bar, and her little fingers did a scrolling motion on the screen until I moved the pages down far enough that she found the perfect pic. I know it's perfect because granddaughter jumps & squeals, "There!"

"My fingers hit copy, file, print, and out came a picture of a seahorse hiding in a mess of soft mushy green seaweed."

She reaches down into the bag once more, pulls out a couple of pink curlers and snaps them into her silvery hair while she talks.

"Little granddaughter climbed up onto the stool I painstakingly tracked down.  I hunted for days on end to get that perfect seat from a Facebook customer.  I then drove all the way to "Southfork Ranch" (and she makes the quote marks with her fingers) to hand over $20 and haul it home."

She reaches down into that Target-trendy bag and pulls out a pair of earrings and clips them on.

"The coloring's done and she wanted a way to save it.  So I asked her if she'd like a page protector.  "Yes," she nodded her little head of long blonde hair."

Then she said "But I want one of those things Grandpa John has upstairs."  

"You mean an envelope?"  

"Yes!"

The lady on stage reaches into her two-tone felt bag and pulls out a a pair of glasses to set on her nose.  

"About this time her daddy came to take her home, but she's not done, they conferred over the envelope first.  "GrammyPam, do you have an ink pen?"  which I provided during this head-tilting confab.  She asked how to spell something and daddy helped her address the envelope.  It has a large heart in the center all filled in with bright colors.  I'm feeling all gooey and am melting inside."

"Granddaughter has had my rapt attention all this time, you know."

She reaches into the open-mouthed bag on the floor to pull out one more thing.  She unfolds the stick, gives it a flick, and it snaps securely into place.  It's a cane.

She looks across the faces of those of us listening to her little story.  "My little scamp of a granddaughter said, "I love her the best!" and the lady puts her free hand over her heart, giving us tender sweet eyes.

The lady in red, now turned grandma, ticks them off, using her fingers "My house, my paper, my crayons, my computer, my stool, my page protector, my envelope, my ink pen, and my undivided attention."  Pointing her butt backwards, hand on hip, she leans on her cane and says, "This little darling minx of mine addressed that envelope with the help of my son!, and I didn't chide her, no, I squinted my eyes at her enabler instead, because in childish scrawl across that envelope it didn't say "GrammyPam", it said that other grandmother's name, 

"I "heart" Ma-Maw!"

Here, Hear Miss Lilly

HERE

Lilo & Stitch movie was turned on by Miss Lilly's mother to entertain the kids while we played Euchre.  Silly Lilly likes to sit on the steps about the 5th one up, my head high.  And when an important exciting part came on, she'd squeal, "Come here, GrammyPam, here, here!"  

I'd move as fast as I could (depending on if it was my turn at Euchre) to stand right next to her.  Her little hand rested on my shoulder, my head tilted towards her looking at the tv screen.  Her light touch worked up to my head, particularly my ear.  Under her arm my shoulders were shaking in laughter because at an exciting part she'd grab my head, as if she thought my attention drifted, and she'd clutch harder, moving my head towards the tv screen by putting pressure with her little fingers on my jawline.

HEAR

Miss Lilly is older, she can now sit in a booster car seat, so she got to ride with us, her grandparents, this evening.  We were on our way to Wolfsies Grill.  The men, her father and her grandfather, had conferred in our hallway then announced their decision.  Fine with me.  Wolfsies has good food.  

What to do with a young 'un as we traveled, we cogitated, since she was a girl.  We opted for singing.  John started Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Here I need to tell you that during a choral workshop of my sister's she took John to class as part of her assignment.  The teacher told John he should be a professional singer.  If not, it was like telling the famous tennis player, John McEnroe, not to play tennis.  Wow, high praise.

So, John and I sang the song listening for Miss Lilly to join us.  About 2 lines in she's talking in the back seat but we couldn't discern her words, nor could we see her since it was after sundown, "Grandpas have a bad voice."  What?  What did we just hear her say?  We stopped the song. When she didn't repeat herself we started it up again and finished.  She made herself heard this time, "Boys can't do it right."

She continued talking, "It should sound like this."  

And, finally, what we'd been waiting for -- she sang.

It was sweet.  Her voice is young, and higher pitched.  She sang it very slowly, purposefully, with a hint of Elsa from Frozen.  

I turned on the flashlight on my cellphone, twisted in my seat to turn around to look at her, raised my arm with the light and ...

I saw an angel!

Her face was upturned to the sky, she was leaning forward just a touch from the waist, her arms were out, and her eyes were closed.  Lilly was singing, just like an angel.  

She ended with, "That's how you sing it, Grandpa."

Planting Seeds

We planted the seeds.  They came from the Kindergarten round-up. That's where all children gather that are coming of age to enter school.  It's to determine their academic levels, do health assessment, and be introduced to teachers and the school building. 

The teacher said, "Plant the seeds and when you have a beautiful flower it's time for school to start."

We planted the seeds.  We planted them under the Kindergartener's window.  We have terrible clay soil and lots of wind, so I had no expectations. 

Time for school!  Dressed the kid, got the camera, turned the corner, and, "Well, HELLO!"

"When did you get so big and strong?"  

This tall as me, big faced yellow thing, greeted me with a little sway!  Standing there, bright and sunny was a brown-eyed sunflower!  What a surprise happy photo.

What started this was a notice from Farmers Almanac to which I subscribe -- 10 Gardening Tips.  In its context it mentioned raised gardening, but my mind zipped to container gardening. 

One year a friend of mind suggested we container garden.  I liked it.  A little bit of that has carried over through the years since. 

I grow herbs in different containers outside.  There's a boiler pot under the bay window where I like to grow basil.   The chipmunks like them, too.  They uproot, suck out the goodness, leave plant exposed, rile the gardener, run and hide!  

Two Greek urns beside the shed is where I grow cilantro.  As far as critters go, it's very private in an urn.  But wild plants aren't so bashful.  What a tangled mess -- spurge, crabgrass, nutsedge, and dandelions crowded in to make it home!  

And the wood trough-like box on the deck grows parsley.  Now, there was a surprise.  It grows profusely, readily, and with little care.  I cut.  It grows.  I cut some more.  It grows some more.  I cut, take in to rinse at the sink, and "Oh, my lands!  There's a black worm under that leaf!"  No more picking and mouth-popping for me.  From now on, I inspect, I turn over the new leaf.

It was fun to grow grass in a long container on the kitchen table, too.  By the time the grass was tall enough to hide Easter eggs in it, I got seasonal sneezing.  Keep out the grass!

According to the Farmer's Almanac, it's time to start thinking.

Ha, ha, ha.  Did they think I had a blank look on my face?  

Actually, Farmer's Almanac said it's time to start thinking about gardening.

Well, I am.  They planted the seeds.  Now, my mind is thinking.

Thinking big, strong, tall, and handsome -- sunflowers!