Travels With Becky

Jeepers, creepers!

Of course we make up words and expressions. They run in families.

Liz and her friend were driving by a wetland on a spring night. They heard lots of chirping.

“What is it that makes that noise?” the friend said.

Liz said, “Um, crickets?”

“No,” the friend said, “it’s little frogs. Crickets would never be that loud.”

“I don’t know what they’re called,” Liz said. Then, reluctantly: “Peepers?”

“Yes,” said the friend, “peepers!”

“You call them peepers, too?” Liz said. “I always thought it was just a word my ditzy mom made up.”

Small is beautiful

John Charles Sumner made us all smile when he told the story of looking for Ellsworth, the mechanic. John’s father had a ‘49 Ford that needed attention, so Dad and John went down to the garage to consult Ellsworth. They called to him, heard him call back, but the garage appeared to be empty.

They looked and looked, but couldn’t find Ellsworth.

“He was quite a small man,” John recalled. “Turned out he was tucked in between the fender wall and engine of the truck he was working on.”

Crime and Punishment

In Cornish, John Charles Sumner recalled attending the Tracy School -- one room. Mrs. Perry would bring a thermos of soup and warm it on the wood stove for lunch. That was a good memory. One not quite so good was when his classmate, Marie, slipped into the outhouse during recess, and John slipped the outside hook into the outside eye, locking the little girl in.

After recess, Teacher noticed that Marie was missing. “She knew,” John says -- all these years later. “John,” Teacher said, “you better come outside and help me find Marie.”

Marie was duly found. Teacher said, “John, why don’t you step inside the outhouse for a moment.”

He obeyed. Teacher slipped the outside hook into the outside eye, and that’s where John stayed for the duration.

In the eye of the beholder

At the Cornish town meeting long ago, I’m told, discussion turned to the wisdom of designating a road as a Scenic Byway.  Bill  had something to say on the matter:  “Nothin’ scenic about that road!  Why there’s nothin’ there but an old swamp.”

Of sleighs and poodles

Oh, such fun in scenic, historic Cornish, NH. Home to St. Gauden’s home and park (worth the trip in itself). Kay MacLeay told of the store and visits with the people.

On parents weekend, the folks of the students all came to town. A woman walked into the story with a poodle -- covered all over with puffs on its tail, its feet, its knees and so forth. The old fellow took one look and said, “What in the hell is that?”

The woman and poodle made a quick exit.

Reminding me of the old saying: The things you see when you don’t have a camera or a gun.

Kay also told this cautionary tail about her Uncle George, raised in Cornish. It had snowed a lot during the night and the going was hard as Uncle George walked to the one-room school house where he was a student. Along came a Yankee neighbor driving a sleigh and gliding right along good.

“George,” called the Yankee, “would you like a ride?”

“I don’t care,” George said.

So the Yankee went right along down the road.

Gallantry

Amanda’s husband, before he was her husband, took her for a ride in his brand new car from Fitz’s in Manchester.  It was awful cold, 20 below zero.  She noticed that the gas guage was on empty.  “Oh dear,” she said, “ I hope we don’t run out of gas, and have to walk in the cold.”  

He gallantly replied, “If we run out of gas, I’ll walk -- you  keep the car running and stay warm.” Guess that about sealed the deal.