Sorry for being MIA for a couple of days. I'm swamped. We are up here at our BOL checking on things and picking up from the recent windstorms. Had a big limb down across our road that just proves keeping a chainsaw in the vehicle when we come up here is a good thing because it means we don't have to walk in to get the one that stays here. Hubby played George Jones and drove the zero turn home from the tractor place. [insert eye roll here] He thinks it is hilarious. Me, not so much. Following him with my hazards on going a hair over 10 mph for several miles just doesn't do it for this girl, especially when even in the country traffic happens. There's a song called "International Harvester" by Craig Morgan that plays in my head every time he does it. Oh Lordy, Lordy. (snicker, giggle)
It's gonna be a twofer today because I don't know how much time I'll have to write/post. More spring cleaning, picking up fallen limbs that are blocking our trails on our 40, trying to have a little fun with hubby going side-by-siding if the weather cooperates, some bonfires (again if the weather cooperates), and trading out some of my library. Ninety percent of my paper library stays here and my electronic stuff and my binders are in my office at the primary. I need to get out my canning books and prep some new recipes for Mom and I to try out ... mostly convenience meals I'm thinking.
Mom and I have a new plan/activity. Once a week she fixes a big meal and we share and then I'll do the same. It means that at least one night a week we don't have to cook but there's still a full meal on the table when the gents get hungry. And it's fun. LOL. Or it will be until the new wears off. Gotta find your fun where you can these days. I'm also teaching her some new-to-her recipes for raw vegan stuff (not my lifestyle, I just like the occasional inclusion in my meal plan). I'll try and post some of the recipes in Granny's kitchen.
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Chapter 17
“Sorry Dump,” Mitch said around a stretch and yawn right before sitting down and propping his feet up on the foot stool the way Uncle Hy used to.
“Sorry for what?” I asked.
He twisting his neck like he was working the kinks out. “Was supposed to be a day off.”
I had an easy answer for that. “Hey, I didn’t have to chop wood. Now that’s a day off.”
Mitch snorted. “You would look at it like that.”
“’Cause it’s true,” I told him.
“Hmmm. Well, day off or not, we got some work done.”
I nodded. “And a plan to do some more.”
“That too,” he said. “Hey, you need help with the dishes?”
“Nope. All done,” I said as I turned to go back to the kitchen.
“Where ya going?” he asked by way of stopping me.
I turned and answered, “Uh … well you usually like to have some quiet at the end of the day.”
“Well … you don’t make that much noise. You can sit in here if you want. Unless you’ve got something to do.”
I shook my head. “Not tonight. I think I’m finished with being constructive and useful for the time being.”
“Door locked? Dogs out?” he asked prepared to stand up and do it if it wasn’t.
I slowed his get up by answering, “Yep and yep.”
Settling into the chair but leaning forward and grabbing something on the end table he told me, “Good. C’mere and I’ll put some more salve on your hands.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I told him, still embarrassed a bit about how much I had liked it last time.
“You don’t like it?”
“Of course I do. I just don’t want to cup up your peace.”
He shook his head. “You don’t. You never have. You, nor Dale either. Could get on my nerves but that wasn’t all your fault. I … er … can be irritating on purpose.”
I tried not to snicker at his admission but without much success.
“All right now, you want this on your hands or not?” he asked grinning a bit himself.
“You don’t have to.”
“You said that already. C’mere and sit here.”
Pleased that I could give in without looking too needy I asked, “Like last time?”
“Uh huh. You need to start wearing gloves more often or your hands are gonna get all tore up.”
I knew it but I hate wearing dirty gloves and I hadn’t figured out how to wash the leather work gloves without ruining them. By the time he was finished I was nearly dozing. Not paying much attention I moved to the sofa and then slowly slid sideways.
In a near normal tone of voice Mitch said, “Your birthday is coming up pretty soon. Gonna be the big one-seven.”
“Whoopee,” I said, not too enthused simply because Dale wouldn’t be around.
“You wanna do something?”
“Eh, well …” I gave it a moment’s though and then answered, “Go fishing and maybe have a picnic for lunch?”
A little surprised he said, “You’re easy to please. Most girls like a fuss.”
I shrugged. Grammy had occasionally had something to say on the subject but hadn’t made a habit of it. I reminded him, “Some do. Some don’t. You know how most of Mom’s family was about that sort of thing. Was against their religion. Dad doesn’t like it either but for different reasons; I think it brings up bad memories from when he was a kid. Mom isn’t like she was raised to be but there’s still never been a fuss over birthdays and holidays. It was never a big deal for Dale and I … well at least once we each turned double-digits. Dale and I would make a game of it between us, but we always kept it under the radar so Mom and Dad wouldn’t feel obligated to say something.”
Mitch sighed, more uncomfortable with his memories than I am with mine. “Hmmm. Dad … he’d overcompensate sometimes. I guess ‘cause … you know the story.”
Trying to keep him from going into a funk I told him, “Yeah, this family tree we share does seem to have a standout number of knotheads and nuts.”
It worked and he chuckled. “You spent way too much time with Grammy. You’re starting to sound like her.”
“That’s not all bad.”
Out of no where he says, “We’re barely related.”
Sitting up I said, “Hey, that’s not nice.”
“I … er … just mean … we’re family but not blood and …” Making a face of frustration he said, “Look, you better get to bed. Gonna be a long day tomorrow.”
Not willing to give the subject up I asked, “What did I do wrong? Why would you say that?”
“Hush Dump. I didn’t mean to upset your feelings. That’s not what I meant at all. The last thing I meant was to hurt you.”
“Then …”
“Dump … Nann … I’m bad at this stuff so I’m just gonna have to say it and hope for the best.” He took a deep breath then said, “I was gonna see what you thought of me giving you a kiss.”
Well that shut me up for all of five seconds. “Kiss? Why?”
“’Cause I want to. But I’m not sure you’d give me a chance to bring you around to the idea. Are you against it?”
“To be honest I’ve never thought … well … not even Stan mentioned kissing. He just didn’t like being the only one without a girlfriend and he was nice, and I was convenient.”
Mitch growled, “Boy is a bigger peckerwood than I thought. You stay away from him if he shows up with your family. He ain’t fit for you.”
Taken aback by his tone I said, “Uh … okay? But …”
Like it was more than just a little important Mitch asked, “You gonna let me talk you around to a kiss?”
I really wasn’t sure how to take how the conversation was going. “Well, if you want to … uh … but only a kiss. And no telling anyone even if it makes you sick.”
He blinked in surprise. “The things you say. And I’m not talking about right here and right now … we’ll work our way that direction.” I was more relieved than I wanted to admit. Until he added, “First comes other stuff.”
“What … er … other stuff?” I asked suspiciously.
He smiled and explained, “A little bit of teasing but mostly just sitting, holding hands, that sort of thing.”
“Why do I get the feeling that sounds a whole lot simpler than it’s gonna turn out to be?”
All Mitch did was grin.