Tuesday, July 06, 2010

Memories of My Parents

Here are a few memories I have about my parents.

*****************************************************************
So that was about my dad’s military life but there were lots of things about him, personally, too. I remember that he preferred cats over dogs. Ironically I married a man, Lee, that, also, prefers cats and so does my son, Dustin. Mother preferred dogs over cats, as do my sisters. Me? I love them both.

Bob always said he raised three daughters to keep house, cook and take care of him. I think he was always disappointed that he and mother didn’t have a boy. But he was always good to us and did the best he knew how for us especially considering his own upraising which wasn’t very good. He almost raised himself. He was very proud when I had my son and then Jan had two boys, and a daughter. Both my parents loved all four of their grandkids very much

His hobby was hunting. He had a collection of rifles and handguns and made sure that each of his grandsons was given a new shotgun about the time they got into high school. Most of his collection of guns has gone to the boys. He would have given one to his granddaughter, Cyndi, but she didn’t want one.

Bob did lots of hunting deer and elk. He had hunted with his Uncle Jim Barnett as a boy, and with Kate’s parents Alma and Boyd Green. He was proud to be able to go hunting with his son-in-law, my husband, Lee. Mostly they hunted deer, but did do some bird hunting for dove and quail, too.

I have the big set of antlers that came from a deer that Grandpa Barnett killed near Cortez, CO sometime while Bob was in the service. Daddy always said it would be a record setting pair if it had been measured. It hangs in my living room. I don’t want a deer head like Boyd mounted but don’t mind the antlers. I have the small set of antlers from a deer that Bob shot while hunting near Las Vegas, NV while we lived there. He said he wouldn’t have normally killed a deer with antlers that small but thought it was small enough and still legal to shoot that it might win a contest in Las Vegas for the smallest set of legal antlers that year. But it didn’t. I think they came in about third smallest. Of course he didn’t get any award or anything for them except that I have them hanging below the huge set that was Grandpa’s. I, also, have the big set of elk antlers from an elk he killed down in the Gila Wilderness. They are too big for in the house. He had them hanging over the garage while he lived in Silver City. Now I have them on top of the railroad tie upright we use as a gate stop when we go in or out of the yard.


I have the vest that Bob had Kate make for him to his specifications for hunting. It is heavy leather outside with a heavy, rough material for a lining. It has several pockets. He wore it every time he went hunting. When I tried it I wondered how he could wear something that heavy. Lee said it was too heavy and didn’t fit him. I am sure it would fit Dustin better and he can have it someday. Dustin looked like Lee when he was born and growing up but about the time he was 18 he changed and now looks like Bob or actually more like his great grandpa John Barnett.

Dad loved to hunt but he was always very careful when using guns and kept them locked up in the house. He did a lot of reloading of his ammunition starting in about 1958 while we lived in Nevada. And even if he was always careful we knew he kept his gunpowder for reloading ammunition under his and mother’s bed. He though it was the safest place we had for it. Not too hot, not too cold, and where wondering friends and children shouldn’t find it. From then until he died he had gunpowder under the bed. Having always lived that way Mother, my sisters and I didn’t think anything of it. Now? Well, maybe it wasn’t all that safe. But where else was he going to keep it?

As I said he was careful with his guns and was all for the Hunter Safety Programs that were started after I grew up. In Silver City he taught the Hunter Safety Course offered by the Forest Service and Game and Fish Department for teenagers that wanted to get their hunting license for a number of years. I never attended one because by then I was over 21 and didn’t have to take it but now I wish I had gone to a couple of the classes just to see him teach it. Knowing how well he had taught us girls and I think taught his brothers I know he did well.

While working for the Gila National Forest near Silver City Bob even agreed to wear the Smokey the Bear costume and help teach the smaller children about fire safety. When I first heard he did it I found it hard to believe but somewhere there is a newspaper clipping with his picture of him in the costume. This I would have loved to have seen.

Dad could be really gruff and grouchy but he loved children, as long as they were behaving, and liked to teach them about the outdoors as did my mom. Mom was a Girl Scout leader for 20 years, starting in Las Vegas when I was in grade school until she had her 20 years in, which was in Silver City. If Mother had managed to finish school and go to college she would have been a teacher I am sure. Me? I am not a teacher at all and don’t like to have to teach anything to anyone.

As good as my parents were at teaching and safety when it came to food and meals it was a different situation. Meals were to be eaten three times a day. At 7 am, 12 noon, and 5 or 6 pm depending on Dad’s job schedule. Daddy insisted that Mother cook for him so that the meals were always on time and Mother did it. Sometimes I wondered why it had to be just so at certain times but it was. We had to eat at the table and couldn’t have the TV on. He had coffee in the morning and ice tea for lunch and supper. Mother had hot tea in the morning and ice tea for lunch and supper. We had to have milk for all three meals until we insisted on hot tea when we got up in high school. I didn’t learn to drink coffee until about 1974.
Lunch was a sandwich and maybe a bowl of soup. Supper was always a hot meal usually a meat and potatoes meal with biscuits and gravy. Frequently we had pinto beans cooked in the pressure cooker with fried potatoes and cornbread. There had to be some sort of desert but a lot of times it would be a little canned fruit and a couple of store-bought cookies. Mother did make cakes, and cookies and they were very good.
Daddy never would eat anything that was cooked on a grill outside. We never did know why. It was a treat when Dad was gone somewhere that we would grill steaks on the hibachi. But he could cook a hotdog or marshmallow on a stick over a campfire to perfection. That is after Mother built the fire. He always had a hard time building a campfire although he wouldn’t admit it saying it was the woman’s job.

Snacks were discouraged. But sometimes we got some after school and usually a couple of hours after supper. As I got older I learned to sneak into the kitchen after Daddy when to bed which was usually by 10:30, and get a snack. Mother would usually join me.

Daddy did drink the occasional beer. I have a very, very vague memory of him letting me try a drink of beer that he was drinking when I was about three years old. I never asked for a drink of beer again. In fact I never tried one again until after I left home when I was eighteen and went into the Navy.

I am glad to say that Dustin doesn’t drink liquor at all. When he was in school he told me about a couple of classmates that offered him a drink out of a bottle they had one day at school. He tried it and said he wouldn’t ever do that again. And he hasn’t. It impressed on me just how many children are stealing their parent’s liquor and drinking it at school. I would have never thought of doing such a thing. I think it all comes down to how a child is raised and how they are taught. I am so grateful that I was raised by parents that taught me right about these things and that I married a man that had been raised just about the same way, and we were able to teach the same values to our son.

One thing I do remember was the jar of hot peppers that always sat on the table with the salt and pepper shakers and the sugar bowl. I don’t remember the brand name that was on the jar but it was something that we could buy everywhere we lived which is not always the case with certain hot foods like the jalapeño peppers that are so popular here in New Mexico. These peppers were about half the size of a jalapeño and were in a jar with a liquid in it like a jar of pickles. So maybe they were a kind of pickled pepper. I do remember that they were very hot and Daddy was the only one in the family that ate them. He demanded that they sit on the table so that he could have one with his supper every night. He said it helped his digestion. One day when I was about ten I was helping clean off the table after supper and picked up the jar to move it to its correct spot on the table. I decided I was going to taste one. Mother saw me and said I would regret it if I tried to eat one. She said to just stick the end of one finger into the liquid in the jar and lick my finger. I did. I never wanted to do it again. That stuff sure was hot, and bitter.

I can eat jalapeños now. Sometimes, but not very much at a time and not very often. It really is an acquired taste. It seems like twenty years ago no one outside of New Mexico, and maybe Texas; even knew what a jalapeño pepper was. Now everyone does clear to New York City. When I worked for one of the plant nurseries a young man from New York City was hired to help with the heavy work and watering. One day after a very long day of work during the middle of the hot summer we decided to order a bunch of pizzas for everyone. The pizza, sodas, and beer arrived. Everyone was watching as a piece of pizza was offered to the guy from New York. He took it and about three big bites when down before it hit him. His mouth dropped open, and his eyes bugged out. He started fanning his mouth and gasping as he tried to ask what was on the pizza. He grabbed for his can of Coke. Of course everyone started laughing while someone handed him a can of beer which can help with the heat of peppers better than soft drinks can. Young Mr. New Yorker didn’t think the joke was very funny and didn’t eat anymore pizza with the diced jalapeño peppers on it. We had ordered all kinds including vegetarian for a few in our group so that was no problem. I tried a slice of pizza with the jalapeños on it just to see how hot it was and was surprised it wasn’t near as bad as I had expected after seeing the New Yorker’s reaction. Actually pizza with diced jalapeños on top is pretty good, just something I don’t want every time I have pizza.

Another interesting food experience that Daddy reminded me of when I was getting stories from him in about 1997 was one we had when we lived in Tampa, FL. Daddy was keeping my sisters and I in the car while Mother was doing some shopping. She had been gone for a few minutes when he asked us if we were hungry. He left us for a few minutes while he went into a small shop near where we were parked that said Cheese Cake Shop on it. We wondered what a cheese cake was while he was gone as we had never heard of such a thing. Would it taste like cheese or would it be sweet like a cake? He came back with a small cardboard box and a handful of napkins. He opened the box and there was a nice cheese cake. But we had no way to divide it and I don’t think Daddy knew it would be that messy either. He took out his pocket knife, divided the delightful cake and gave each of us a small slice. We saved most of it for our dessert after supper that night. Mother was able to find a recipe for cheese cake made from cream cheese and instant pudding mix which was made frequently after that but never did match that first one in taste.

Most of our evenings were spent playing in the yard in the summer or watching TV in the winter and doing homework. Frequently there was the smell of gun oil and cleaning solvent as Daddy cleaned his guns and we watched TV. Those smells still bring back those memories.

There were bad times as well as the good when I was sure that my parents would be better off if they lived apart. When I was in high school I was sure they would get a divorce but they never did although their arguing was bad for all of us sometimes.
It was in the late 1980’s when Mother started doing really weird things. Mainly keeping everything. I guess it was a form of hording. Daddy didn’t tell us. We don’t know why. Maybe he was embarrassed to. We never noticed on our quick trips to see them for just a day or so. We only noticed that the house wasn’t as clean as it should have been but Mother didn’t want us to help her do anything, even to getting mad about it if we suggested it. I realized just how bad things were only a few months before Daddy died Dec. 8, 1999. I was trying to help her fix supper and she only wanted to use some outdated yogurt that she had. Way outdated, like a year before. Then she asked me if I had ever seen a new product and she had a box of instant pudding in her hand. The kind we had used to make all those cheese cakes. I wanted to break down and cry but couldn’t. It was at this time that she started not being able to remember who I was or my name. She could only remember Daddy’s name when talking about people. At times she even thought I was her mom. We tried to take care of Mother but it was really difficult as I was living in Rio Rancho, Jan was in Clatskanie, OR and still had young children. Sarah moved back to Silver City but it finally got to be too much and we had her put in a nursing home in Silver City. Mother died on Sept. 3, 2003.

No comments: