Kimball and I walked down to the Little Clear Creek bridge construction project one morning last week. The foreman, Jim, forded the creek to come talk to us. He lives five hours away in Memphis, MO.
He said they plan to be done in six weeks. That leaves a little less than five now. That would make it the last week of November, I calculate.
– When I saw Vanessa Hardy (the Durham bus supervisor) at lunch Saturday, she asked about the bridge and agreed it would save that bus driver (and the kids) a lot of miles doubling back. I asked her about her grandpa and she told me was recovering from carotid artery surgery. The next morning, she texted me that Cecil had passed away.
If you knew Cecil Blystone, I can’t tell you anything you don’t already know. House building and cabinet making put the groceries on the table. He left some grandfather clocks around town. Masterpieces, like anything he crafted. I admired his painting at Casey’s Honey Bee for years. I saw the Bulldog fiddle he made or at least the Bulldog head he carved on it. And he was less than amused when someone added teeth to his Bulldog.
I’d like to tell you some of the things Cecil told me, but I can’t. Cecil was not always, make that almost never, politically correct, but he surely was funny. Let’s just say, that in his presence, I occasionally referred to him as the resident cynic. El Dorado Springs will not be the same without Cecil.
– A lady told Kimball and me at noon Tuesday that she first looks here to see what the cats are doing. Used to be the kids, but Adrian and Davis got older and left. I hesitate to say “grew up.” That’s optional.
– Oh, Adrian is about to change jobs. The new one will be the same – just not a 150 mile drive one way. Hope that works out for her. Still abstracting in oil and gas.
– Davis is trying to finish up his degree while working for somebody I’ve never heard of doing I’m not sure what.
– Our pets neither grow up or leave. But they do change, particularly Caddeaux. He’s back to almost normal (after he got his tail chewed) so Bella can fear that he will plow into her when she walks by or vice versa.
Before bedtime, when I take my cereal bowl to the kitchen sink, Caddeaux gets by the food bowl and turns big circles looking at me pitifully. That’s good for one small scoop of Fancy Feast.
He now starts the evening on the mat by the stool. Then sometime during the night he winds up on the bed at Kimball’s feet. Bella sleeps beside her.
When we go for our morning walk, we must leave Bella in the house. She will follow Kimball, but not me.
Bellevue, who has lots of issues, often demands, with a mournful meow, that Kimball pet her when Kimball sits on the sofa. You remember what she did when Kimball sneaked up on her outdoors. Different Kimball.
We live our lives for our kids and our pets.