Grandfather Says: The Continuing Chronicles of Elaine, Part 38

The following was written by my late wife Elaine. She wrote a long book, a diary really, from which this is one passage:

My Contribution

What is now an enclosed “room” off the living room was just a roof over an open porch. We used it that way, but snow usually came from the west and blew toward the east, horizontally, through the porch (our own wind tunnel!) often blowing under the double doors to the living room. So I got the idea to have the porch closed in with glass windows and screens, and since Jonathan was a building contractor then, I asked him if he could put this project on his jobs list, and it turned out just like everything Jonathan does: the very best.

We all enjoy the room, especially now that there are many grandchildren; they’re safe there and have room to play, and if the double doors are left open, it becomes an enclosed extension of the living room. Thanks again, Jonathan! It’s also a good place for our pets when we want to separate them for awhile.

People living along the road from Union on the way to our homestead were curious about Dave’s trips hauling stuff up the mountain when we were moving here. A local trucking company owner was one of them, and we later became good friends and were part of the “Funny Bunch” which included the Kidds, and several local businessmen and their families.

Dave had built the “trailer” which he pulled with his truck; it had high sides, like a giant playpen, and he called it “The Lion Cage” and used it for hauling bulky walnut logs, pine boards, misc. lumber, etc. – all of which he had accumulated in Warrenton and planned to use again for finishing our house with paneling and trimming he would make from the rough lumber.

Anyway, Dave always waved at people who hung around the trucker’s garage, and they waved back. Almost everybody waves at other vehicles here, which I think is a nice custom we didn’t see in places we’ve lived before. If you waved from your car or said hello to strangers on the streets of large cities and some suburbs, somebody might think you were “trying to start something.”

When we first visited the Union Presbyterian Church, the trucker recognized Dave even though he was in his Sunday clothes, and John asked him in his always friendly way, “Are you the hippy who hauls up and down? Do you haul pigs?” His questions were not idle chit-chat; he made his living from hauling: wood chips, milk, whatever needed to go from “here to there”…. Roanoke and other places.

To be continued…

***

About the Author: RD Blakeslee is a nonagenarian in West Virginia who built his net worth by only investing in that which can be enjoyed during acquisition and throughout life, as opposed to papers in a drawer, like stocks and bonds. You can read more about him here.

Photos: Courtesy of the Blakeslee Family