Night at the farm. Victoria, Chase

The last thing Grandma said to me before they left for the farm was that I needed to buy a trailer so she and Grandpa could load up all their stuff and move to the farm permanently. I asked her to confirm that after they had stayed there a night or two – just to make sure. But their first night there was not as pleasant as she had envisioned. Mama said she called early on Monday morning to tell her how Grandpa was out walking around the property with his morning cup of coffee. The sunrise was beautiful and the air temperature was almost perfect.


Unfortunately, the night had been less than pleasant. It was miserably hot and Grandma cannot handle hot at all. The generator had performed flawlessly and the portable air conditioner they had taken ran like a champ; however, it could not begin to compensate for the extreme heat. If Grandma could have slept with her face on the outlet vent it might have been better. It had taken them almost all day Sunday to clear out a spot for the two twin beds they took and though Grandma had gone to the house convinced that the relatives had been responsible for the mess; it became obvious that it was – as we suspected – the result of hoarding by the last occupant. It is just difficult to imagine anyone choosing to live like that.

All in all it was not a wasted trip. Grandpa did get to check out the well. It will need some repairs. He got to check out the electric and determined that we can have it safely turned back on next week when I go over to work out of the office in Decatur. He got a good feel for the area and is confident that he can find work of his choosing and he got the pallets I needed to put our logs on as they arrive next week. It was a good effort but by Monday night they were back in their air conditioned house here in Amarillo; not a set back or a failure, just a reality check. One night was enough for now.

Victoria was an excited wreck last night. Since Mama has not been the bastion of peace and calm lately I am praying their morning goes well as they get Victoria to the airport. She was a little concerned that she had no paperwork to print out – and I don’t know if it is a problem or not – but at our little airport it should be an easy matter to resolve. Victoria did all of this herself online so I hope she did everything needed to settle the flight to and from the wedding. We will know today – early today.

Chase has been “hanging out” a lot lately with a girl named Camey. I have not met her but Mama has. It is strange that I have not gotten any real feedback form Mama on the young lady except to know that her family goes to the Church of Christ; not a very compatible doctrine to ours although they tend to be gracious in their faith. I do not know where to intervene other than to pray and watch carefully.

Chase is starting school this week along with the rest of the United States. He has bold plans for accomplishing the work on his own. I remain skeptical since it cannot be accomplished through texting, does not interface with Face book, and offers no U-Tube videos. Chase is a good kid but like most his age (and many well past his age) he is thoroughly distracted by thing that matter the least; cell phones, computers, TV’s etc. If the condition of his room reflects his heart and character I am in deep trouble.

He likes his shirts pressed before he wears them, even though he pulls them out of a pile of clean, unfolded, un-hung, laundry. He likes his hair just so while his bed looks like it came from our recently purchased farm house. He will only wear the nicest ties but uses the laundry Mama faithfully does for him as padding for the chair in which he sits to do his school work. I cannot imagine having that much divergence in my life.

If something is hung up properly, it will be ready to wear when needed. If things are folded and put away they will be available when needed. If I take time to put away my clothing, I will know where it is when I need it and I will know what is available at any given time. The last thing I ever want to do is look through a pile for something I need or want. Check out my closet, my garage or my dresser and you will see the way I think and plan.

It is bizarre that I do not mind cleaning up the abandoned farm house, but I greatly dislike cleaning up after my son. I am not responsible for the character of the last tenant at 548 Van Bebber Road in Bowie, Texas. I am responsible for developing that character in Chase.

I feel that I am losing the battle and when I lose we both lose.