Saturday, July 01, 2017
The neighbors on both sides of us will be off camping somewhere for the 4th as neither they nor their dogs appreciate all the fireworks that go off in our neighborhood. Speaking of dogs, I need to go to the vet on Monday to get Jig some doggy valium. He is terrified of the fireworks and will be holed up in the basement with the doors closed and a white noise fan on too. Valium would be just the little extra boost I think he would appreciate.
After picking up fireworks, I cleared out half of the boxes of my dad's papers and ski clothing that I brought home yesterday from storage at the lake. I threw most of the papers away, but I kept his entomology and biology books. I also kept the book they made for him when he retired from the forest service. The clothes and gear will mostly go to the resale store that benefits the local animal shelter. Dad got Jig there, and I think he would have liked to see his things benefit them.
Before picking up fireworks, we went downtown to Pop's Grill for breakfast this morning. The cafe shares an interior wall with an art gallery and there are windows between the two businesses allowing one to look over some of the work while eating. So we went in after we finished breakfast, and as I was wandering through I to looked up and on the wall right in front of me was a copy of one of my great grandfather RH McKay's photos signed and dated "Flathead Belle" 1920. I bought it and it now hangs on the wall by our front door along with all of my father's photos of mountains he climbed or skied or both.
Oh I'm in a melancholy mood tonight. I've always loved Montana, but this year it's been hard to be here. I keep thinking of all the family who have passed from my life. I won't get to ask my grandmother if her sister was there the day Bonny and Clyde robbed the bank where she worked. I can't ask my mother who the camel cigarette belonged to that has the words "Do you want to take years off your life?" and the date 11-3-52 written on it that Jessie found today in one of Mom's drawers is a sealed tube. Mom would have been 12 then and my uncle wasn't even born. I can't ask Grampa the story behind his Dad's middle name, Lafitte. These are only some of the questions that have popped into my mind in the past two weeks.
Okay, time to go to bed to snuggle with my spouse. I need some reassurance about life, and he is very good about grounding me in the here and now. If I hurry, I might even get there before he starts snoring. But even if I don't, he'll wrap his arms around me in his sleep and everything will be okay.