 |
| Mrs. Schoolcraft |
I grew up in a small town in West Virginia. We lived on a short, hilly street, and directly across the street was a house much like ours - an older, two-story house. After a series of neighbors who lived there for a year or two, Clem and Donnie Schoolcraft moved in.
They were an elderly couple; at least, they seemed that way to me then, but when you're 12, everyone looks old. But if I had to guess, they were in their seventies. They had lived their whole life out in the country and moved to town for convenience as they got older. Mr. Schoolcraft didn't do much but sit quietly on the porch. Probably because his wife was such a talker.
Mrs. Schoolcraft could talk non-stop, seemingly without taking a breath. She loved to talk with friends on the phone, people in the neighborhood, people at church, and people she saw at the store. She would go to visitations (sometimes called viewings or wakes) at the two funeral homes we had in town, whether or not she knew the person who had died or their family. She would go hoping to run into someone she knew because visitations often brought people into town that you might not usually see. When she talked with my mother, the drone of Mrs. Schoolcraft's voice would put my mother to sleep every time. We always smiled when we saw her nodding off.
Mrs. Schoolcraft was not only a talker but a hard worker. She always said that she wanted to wear out before she rusted out. The fact that she had a serious heart problem didn't slow her down a bit. Her house was immaculate, and she would regularly be seen on her porch roof washing her upstairs windows.
And she loved flowers. Her porch and yard were full of bright flowers in the summer, and along with the flowers, she had huge ferns on her porch. She did all the work to keep her yard looking good, including trimming the hedge that grew along the side of her property. When she trimmed her hedge, it would go something like this. She would get out her electric hedge trimmer and start cutting. Then, at some point, she would cut the cord in half, and she would bring it over to my father, who would fix it. And it would work until the next time she trimmed the hedge. Mrs. Schoolcraft cut that cord every time she used the hedge trimmer.
I told you about Mrs. Schoolcraft because of what happened yesterday. I was shredding the large volume of vet bills we had accumulated, feeding them a few at a time until there was a jam. Upon further investigation, the jam was a metal rabies tag that had been taped to a bill that was stuck in the blades. I worked with it a bit until I took it to Ward to see if he could fix it, and he got the shredder working again after some work with screwdrivers and pliers. I was annoyed with the mistake I had made and checked the other papers to make sure that there were no other tags on the remaining papers. I started shredding again, and all was going well until the shredder jammed. Again! And I am embarrassed to say that this time, I got two tags stuck in it at once. While I had checked the remaining papers, I did it more by feeling than by separating every single page. I sheepishly took the shredder back to Ward, who fixed it once again, although it took a lot longer this time.
So, as I made the same avoidable mistake, I thought about Mrs. Schoolcraft and how she cut the cord of her trimmer every time. And that made me smile through my embarrassment as I remembered her.
So now I'm off to finish the shredding, and I want you to know that I have separated every single sheet of paper to check for any other shredding hazards that may be lurking. I know that will make Ward happy. 😉
Until next time...
