After two days on the road, Daddy, Mama, and I got home last night (it's rather hard having multiple "homes", you know). Sunday night we spent in Georgia north of Atlanta; I forget the name of the town.
Not much has been doing here at the home-place today as we have been in recovery mode. My parents went to town this morning to talk to the funeral home folks and the florist. I took a ramble, scratched Socks on the head, jumped over a strand or two of wire, peered at the pens, shook a fence line, and admired the work done by Tommy and Ricky over the past year. Seriously, the place looks better than I left it.
I came in as Mama and Daddy were leaving and started sorting through my clothes. I brought far, far too many with me. I misunderstood the amount of clothing brought to me last fall and assumed I have very little to wear here. Um...wrong. I needed traveling clothes and that was it. (Other than socks, of course.)
I glanced out the window at some point to see my cousin Cassandra strolling up the driveway. We spent an hour or more talking before Mama and Daddy got home. I had cooked up the hamburger for lunch, so when she got home with the veggies, the three ladies poked around the kitchen fixing up the rest of lunch.
It was while I was washing up the lunch dishes that someone found one of Granddaddy's tapes and put it on. It was his gospel/hymn repertoire. Mama and Cassandra went into the other room and while Granddaddy sang his heart out via the old cassette tape, I cried. My best memories of Granddaddy are generally associated with pickin' and grinnin'. My guitar playing cousins and I are supposed to play "I'll Fly Away" at the funeral...I found that that one was the song that got me really crying because I could just see his bushy eyebrows playing up his forehead and his teeth showing as he smiled big. He loved that one a lot.
Mid-afternoon, I looked out the window and saw a green pick-up coming up the drive. I blurted, "I think that's Ricky..." and whisked out the door. (Now, before you get any strange ideas...Ricky and Tommy are both old enough to be my father[s]. They are like "extra Uncles"...they liked that turn of phrase. :D) Anyway, I met them and hugged them and in minutes was seated between them in the front of Ricky's Dodge for a look-see of the ranch. Rooster was almost scolded for not taking her truck out on her morning's ramble...and questioned as to the locality of her spurs (no use to wear them since Snip isn't here). I do so love those guys, they keep me in stitches, but they are also serious and THE BEST neighbors anyone could have. [Alright, alright, so I love a lot of people...]
We are probably going to temporarily switch residences to our place across the creek tomorrow, thus freeing up this place for Aunt Terry and her four. Once she heads home, I think the plan is to come back over here until we leave. There is a bunch of work that needs doing, but most of it will probably wait until next week. I do intend on doing something a little more profitable tomorrow, but it's kind of hard to know where to start...