Mary Welch Steinhoff Archives

April 27, 2014

Taking Fencing Lessons

Curator Jessica sent me a text bragging about her time in a triathlon Saturday morning. We exchanged a couple of messages, then I texted her, “I’m busy taking fencing lessons, so I will probably be incommunicado.”

Mother has a porch on the east side of the house overlooking a woods that is the perfect place to sit and watch the birds and squirrels. Even on the hottest day, it’s usually shaded and comfortable. A few years back, Brother Mark cleared her a pathway to go from the front yard to the back and to get to her bird feeders and hanging plants.

The surface is a bit uneven and the hill is fairly steep, so we thought we’d put up a handrail to make her meanderings a little safer. Of course, we didn’t really know what we were doing, so don’t look to closely at our handiwork.

Since Mother’s age – 92-1/2 – and her weight are about the same, I don’t think there is much danger of her knocking it over.

The Rule of Threes

I wrote about the Rule of Threes when Kid Matt was building me a new computer. This project was worse that than. In 24 hours, I think I have been at Menard’s four times; Lowes five times and Ace Hardware at least five times. And, of course, when you are in the Big Box hardware stores, fencing materials and gardening supplies are on one side of the world and lumber is on the other.

One of the tasks Mark wanted to tackle was getting Mother’s fountain working again. We confirmed that the pump was getting power, so we deduced we were peering at a kaput pump. That was a trip to Lowes. Then, he wanted to replace a section of plastic hose with copper pipe for aesthetic reasons. That was Lowes and Ace, where he told a young worker that he was Frankensteining it and would welcome inspiration.

We got back to the house, installed the copper pipe, Gooped it in place so it wouldn’t leak, then turned on the juice. The water barely trickled out of the copper pipe. The pump was supposed to be able to handle a six-foot height, but Mark cut off about two feet of pipe to make the distance even shorter. The result wasn’t much better. He started to fill the fountain with a hose to make sure there was plenty of water for it to work with.

Leaking like a nursery school

That’s where the fountain base started leaking like a nursery school short of diapers. Water left in it at the end of the summer must have frozen during the winter and cracked the plastic.

We hit Menards again. The entrance is here, and the garden shop is waaaaaaaay over there at the far end. They didn’t have anything we liked at a price that we liked.

Back to Lowes. The entrance is here, and the garden shop is halfwaaaaaay over there. They didn’t have anything, either. And, of course, we also had to hit lumber at the far end, hardware in the middle and customer service at the entrance.

That’s just a small part of the day. My feet are killing me.

Mark went to bed three hours ago, which is where I’m headed as soon as I hit the Publish button.

Sorry for the iffy quality. I shot these with my cell phone because I didn’t have the strength to pick up a real camera.

April 25, 2014

Dancing in the Trees

Brother Mark and I have been looking at the trees around Mother’s house for some time. There are a lot of dead branches that could cause problems. I cut up a big one that had fallen during the winter, but there were plenty more just waiting to fall on the power line or roof. Here’s a Before shot of a maple tree that was planted when we moved into the house over half a century ago. You can see the dead branches.

I was working in the basement when Mother hollered downstairs that the tree trimmers from the power company were there. To be honest, I expected the hatrackers usually associated with utility company trimmers, and I didn’t expect them to be very flexible.

Florida Power and Light delivered excuses

The power line running along our back property line in Florida had a lot of growth around it since the 2005 hurricane season, so we called Florida Power & Light this winter to see if they could trim it back before hurricane season. (We pay to have a mango tree on the line trimmed by an arborist just to keep it from being hacked up.)

When they showed up, they said that trimming the vegetation was our problem because it wasn’t a main line. “This isn’t our service loop,” I pointed out,” this line feeds every house in this block.” Several weeks went by and I figured we had lost the battle, but some guys with chain saws finally showed up.

Shade Tree Service Company

Much to my pleasant surprise, the guys working for The Shade Tree Service Company out of Fenton were super nice to deal with. They told Mother what they planned to do, assured her they weren’t going to do anything to harm the trees and told her they’d clean up any mess they made. They also had a sticker on the side of the truck that said they were Professional Utility Arborists and members of the National Arborist Association and the International Society of Arborculture.

What was better was that they said they’d trim the dead branches out of the maple tree because they could fall on her service loop if they blew down. When they started cutting, I told them they could leave the larger pieces for me to cut up for firewood. They not only agreed to do that, but they offered to stack it. Since I had to cut into shorter lengths, I said that wouldn’t be necessary.

Artists in buckets

The guys in the buckets were artists of weaving their way between the power, cable and phone cables. After watching them hold chainsaws at arms length and grapple with logs that made a heavy THUNKKK!! when they hit the ground, I decided I wouldn’t challenge any of them to arm wrestle.

A tip of my hard hat to them

It has long been established that lumberjack is not on my list of possible occupations.

Tree trimming photo gallery

Here are random photos of the tree trimming project, including an After shot of the maple tree. They did a nice job. Click on any photo to make it larger, then click on the sides of the photo or use your arrow keys to move through the gallery.

April 18, 2014April 22, 2014

Easter Decorations

One of the problems / advantages of retirement is that you don’t have to know what day of the week it is. I shot these Easter decorations in Mother’s living room before we embarked on a ramble. Some of them, like the clear plastic tree with the ornaments on it, have been around since I was a kid.

We were bouncing down a road in rural Perry County when I asked, in all innocence, “Do you know what day it is?”

“It’s 2:32,” she replied.

“No, I know what TIME it is. I want to know if today is Saturday.”

One of us is “ready for the home”

Brother Mark and I keep telling Mother that she’s close to being “ready for the home,” but the glance she gave me clearly indicated that she was pretty sure either I was testing her or I was the one who was ready for the home.

We got to Altenburg and saw our museum buddy, Gerard Fiehler, out mowing his lawn, so I pulled into the driveway and said, “You look like you could use a break. Why don’t you get off that thing and let Mother finish the job for you?”

He said he had read how she was death on dandelions, but he wasn’t ready to turn his mower over to someone with her reputation for hot rodding.

“Do you know what day this is?”

During a lull in the conversation, Mother leaned over me and asked him, “Do you know what day this is?”

He hesitated like he was looking at a mental calendar. “Not the date, but the DAY. What day of the week is it?” I filled in.

Now, he was SURE it was a trick question. “It’s Friday,” he answered, hesitantly.

Mother gave me a smug smile

“I could have sworn it was Saturday and I had this really timely post ready to go up on Easter,” I said.

So, that’s why you are getting this gallery of Mother’s living room Easter decorations on Saturday instead of Sunday. Click on any photo to make it larger, then use your arrow keys to move through the gallery.

March 20, 2014

Portraits for the Ages

I spent a lot of my younger years in Southeast Missouri cemeteries because Mother and Grandmother made a point of keeping fresh decorations on the graves of family and friends. As a child, I was fascinated by two things in the Advance cemetery where my namesake, Kenneth Welch, was buried.

A few rows over from his stone was a marker with a photograph on it. On the left as you made the circle to leave the cemetery was a wooden box with a glass cover. Inside was an intricate hair bouquet made from the deceased’s hair. The ceramic photo is still on the first marker, but there is no trace of the bouquet on the second one, and I’ve not been able to figure out which grave it marked.

Since then, I’ve been acutely aware of gravestones with photos on them. My interest was rekindled when I saw a photo of a young woman in her coffin on a stone in a church outside Gordonville.

Bollinger County Memorial Park Cemetery

When Mother and I went down to the Bollinger County Memorial Park Cemetery outside Marble Hill looking for Veterans Day flag photos, I was amazed at how many graves were marked with pictures. This is the cemetery, by the way, that had the unusual shoe marker.

Some photos captured a tender moment in a pair of lives. Others were more formal. Some dated to the turn of the 20th Century, others had been taken in the past decade.

Toddler photo was hard to look at

I had a hard time editing the photo of Ricky Dale Wiseman, who died in 1967. A bright-eyed one-year shouldn’t be beneath a tombstone. I didn’t feel floods of emotions like that until I had kids and grandsons. I guess you do acquire some wisdom with old age.

“Lucky”

One large black stone had the photo of a young couple on it. (OK, RELATIVELY young: he was born two years after me.) Steve L. Chandler died in 2004; his wife, Julia M. is still living. At the bottom of the stone is a photo of “Lucky.” I have to wonder if Lucky is buried there.

Sometimes you should leave well enough alone and not do any more research. FindAGrave, carried Steve’s obit: “Steve L. Chandler, 55, of Marble Hill died Dec. 3, 2004, at his home, following an illness. He was born July 12, 1949 in Cape Girardeau, son of Lynn and Wanda (Ricketts) Chandler. He and Julia Johnson were married April 18, 1992 in Marble Hill. Mr. Chandler was a member of Lutesville Presbyterian Church and Marble Hill VFW Post 5900.

He was co-owner and pharmacy technician of the 103-year-old Chandler Drug Store in Marble Hill. He was a U.S. Army veteran of the Vietnam War and was awarded a Purple Heart. Survivors include his wife. He was preceded in death by a son, Austin Lynn.”

Still curious about Lucky, I expanded my search. RootsWeb’s WorldConnect project had the same obit, but it also had a link about Austin Lynn. I wish I hadn’t clicked it.

“The Southeast Missourian – July 30 1992 – Marble Hill–Austin Lynn Chandler, 5, was found dead Tuesday, July 28, 1992, in Crooked Creek near Marble Hill.”

I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. All thoughts of having a happy post about Lucky evaporated.

Photo gallery of grave photos

I don’t think I can handle any more obits for children tonight. Here’s a collection of some of the photos that appear on tombstones in the Bollinger County Memorial Park Cemetery. Click on any photo to make it larger, then use your arrow keys to move through the gallery. I’ll post similar photos from other cemeteries from time to time.