Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Beet This

Sunday, a quiet day in our sleepy, little town. I was glad for the quiet. Heavy rains had Himself and I taking turns round the clock vaccing up water in the basement. With the sun shining and warm temps, all the water aggravation seemed a very distant memory instead of passed a scant few hours.

I was looking out the front window when a car pulled up and parked in front of Prissy’s house. At first, I thought she must be having company, but why didn’t they park in her driveway? Maybe they were having car trouble. A young couple got out of the car. They were nicely dressed. The young man wore a suit and tie. The young woman was wearing a dress and dress shoes. An alarm went off in my head. The first nice, warm, sunny day, and just like robins, they arrive. The young man was carrying some papers. They walked up Prissy’s long, circular driveway.

I sprinted to the phone, shoving Himself out of the way. I speed dialed Prissy. The young couple had reached her front walk. One ring. They climbed the front steps. Two rings. C’mon, c’mon, pick up the phone! The young man rang the bell. I dance from one foot to the other. Where the hell is she? Three rings.


“Don’t answer your door!” I didn’t bother to say hello or identify myself.

There was a pause and then recognition kicked in.

“Do you want to come over for coffee?”

“Not with company on your doorstep.”

“When they leave. I have something for you.”

“Ok. See you in a little bit.” I hung up the phone.

“What was that all about?” asked Himself.

“Just the early warning system.”

Himself looked out the front window and saw the young couple get back in their car.

He shook his head at me.

“Look, she’s an old woman living all by herself.”

“Oh sure, make what you’re doing sound holy.”

I laughed. Okay, I’m evil. I admit it. It wasn’t a very nice thing to do. I’m sure others have done the same thing. The only difference is I admitted my guilt. I don’t care to have strangers come to my front door. I don’t even like friends and relatives dropping by unannounced!

Most likely, the couple was harmless. Only here to pass a bit of time and talk about their passion. I did it once, long ago. Chatted with another young woman. Spoke about the differences and the similarities. Five minutes. Ten minutes. On and on. She wouldn’t leave! I’d be more receptive if the presentation was short and sweet. Hi, how are you? Here’s a pamphlet for you to read. Bye now. Have a nice day.

“If you like, I can go outside to flag them down, and then you can talk to them.”

“Nope, that’s okay.” He disappeared to the bunker and the comfort of his Lazy Boy.

I watched the car move on down the street. I waited a short time and called Prissy.

“Put the kettle on, I’m coming over.”

Sunday is a tough day for Prissy to pass. She and her husband used to go out on Sundays. They would take rides to New Hampshire if the weather was nice. They would go to the track at Lincoln Park. They would go out to eat. Prissy’s husband has been gone for ten years now, and still Sunday is the hardest day of the week for her.

She had the table all set for tea as I took off my coat and hung it on the back of my chair.

Her clock was lying on the table at my place.

“Could you put that up for me?” She was able to get the clock down to change the time for daylight savings.

She brought me a step stool and I climbed up to hang the clock back on the wall.

Prissy danced at my side. “Don’t fall!”

I almost said I needed money to pay two tuitions, but decided to keep my smart mouth shut.

With my chore done, Prissy brought out what she had for me. She had a bottle of Diet Dr. Pepper.

“Could you use this? I picked up the diet by mistake.”

“Sorry, Priss, we don’t drink diet tonic.”

She frowned. Apparently, she had tried to pawn it off on her daughter who doesn’t drink diet soda either.

“Why don’t you take it with you to the Senior Center? I’m sure someone would take it.”

“Ooh, that’s a good idea.”

We sat and had our tea and gossip.

“Oh, I thought of you. I saw something in the paper.” She went to the living room and shuffled through the Sunday paper lying on the hassock by her chair. “Here it is!” Prissy brought an article for me to look at.

The article was about a 100 year old man and his secret to longevity. First, he drank a concoction of apple cider vinegar and honey, daily. Second, he ate beets and drank beet juice. Some of you may recall, Ma had 24 cans of beets in her pantry and wanted to go shopping to by more because they were a good price.

Beets! Beets full of beet juice! 24 cans! And more arriving. The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. The Weebles are going to live forever.

1 comment:

Erica Vetsch said...

ROFL! and I love the tags for this post. :)