Ah, I’m sitting in a clean, quiet hotel room, with mindless television and knitting. It’s a perfect time to reminisce about family traditions.
Yep, it’s a hotel room.
My current family is a bit too chaotic to have a lot of traditions. It’s always something different every day. But my family of origin had a couple I enjoyed at the time and remember fondly.
I’m not home so I can’t scan photos. Here’s our foggy morning.
One I loved was when we lived in south Florida in a family-oriented neighborhood of little cement-block houses. We had a dachshund mix dog named Pumpkin during my college and grad school years. I thought of her as my sister, because she was great to talk to and hang out with. I’m not kidding, I often forgot she was a dog.
Ha! I found a photo of Pumpkin, Dad, and two neighbors.
Anyway, it was my parents’ tradition to take a walk with Pumpkin every evening after dinner. Whenever I was home, I went along with them and my brother. The walk only went to the end of the block, because Mom couldn’t go very far (she was sick a long time, and died when I was 26).
The front of the house, on my 16th birthday. Stylish for 1974.
However, the walks were always fun. We’d talk and joke and comment on the quality of Pumpkin’s poop, which always happened at the corner. (Dad had to go clean it up once a week or so, because they we’d never heard of poop bags in the 80s.) In the winter we’d check to see if she’d produced a “steamer.” Dad loved those.
Re-enactment?
The walks were often long in time, compared to their length. That’s because we often stopped to talk to the neighbors. My dad and brother were very social. I enjoyed listening to them. It felt so comfortable and convivial. They could talk about all topics, drink beer, tell stories, and get along. They were just nice, hard-working folks. I miss those times.
I realize that hanging out with my family and watching the dog poop is probably a weird tradition, but we all enjoyed it. It was something Mom could do with us, which was so nice. And my Dad and brother were so funny. I’ll treasure our quirky family togetherness time.
Before I left for my 6.5-hour drive to Arkansas, I did get in a little bird watching during the foggy morning. (I haven’t seen the sun since last Saturday.) I’m going to declare our resident loggerhead shrike the Daily Bird, because it matches the sky and trees. Plus, I love watching them grab bugs.
Gray bird in fog.
I’m sure the shrike is wishful for the grasshopper season to start! They go into overdrive then.
