Out of the Frying Pan

Handmade Boxes and Lace Doilies

Lenny and I paused to watch Lanny trying to stay ahead of Billy. Suddenly, whap! I was beaned by a snowball! I spun around to look at Lenny and he had his hands in his coat pockets. I looked further and there was Grandpa and Mr. Mitchell walking up the back porch stairs. Mr. Mitchell was laughing.

Grandpa hollered, “Remember to show respect to your elders!”

Whap!

Mr. Mitchell yelled “I’ll remember that, Mike!” as he followed Grandpa into the house.

Lenny’s eyes were wide with surprise. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Well, he started it. I don’t see him out here to finish it, do you?” I smiled at Lenny and headed towards the house.

When Lenny and I got inside, we washed up and started setting the table. When Lanny walked in, he was mumbling something about “that dang horse.” Lenny and I could tell he must have been thumped by Billy a few times because of the way his feathers were so ruffled.

I asked him, “What happened?”

He answered, “Nothing,” and Lenny and I burst out laughing. Just then, Grandpa and Mr. Mitchell walked in from the front room.

Grandpa asked, “What’s so funny?”

I pointed at Lanny. “Ask him.”

Grandpa raised one eyebrow at Lanny. “Well?”

“Nothing, sir. They’re just teasing me, that’s all.”

Grandpa looked at both Lenny and me. I thought it was a good time to change the subject.

“Should we set a place for Mr. Mitchell, Grandpa?”

“No thanks,” Mr. Mitchell replied, “I got to get back soon and will you please call me Tom?”

We looked at Grandpa and he nodded.

“You sure do have a nice tree. John said you cut it yourself, Mike.”

I stood a bit taller, proud and pleased that Grandpa had mentioned that to him. I said, “Yes, sir, Mr. Tom!” and everybody laughed.

Grandpa laid a hand on my shoulder. “Just Tom, son.”

Mr. Mitchell spied a platter that was on the counter behind us. “On second thought, I reckon I could have another cup of coffee with one of them biscuits you got there, if you have some butter and molasses to go with it.”

Grandpa chuckled, “You know we do, Tom. Help yourself to anything.”

Tom fixed himself a biscuit just the way he wanted it, then he and Grandpa went into the parlor, fixed their coffee and went back into the front room. My brothers and I finished setting the table for lunch. No sooner were we done when Grandpa called all three of us to the front room.

The tree was the first thing to catch my attention when we walked in. Sunshine was streaming through the windows behind it and the whole tree, though still bare, seemed to glow. Grandpa told us to go upstairs and start bringing down the decorations. We made trip after trip, carrying the wood boxes that Grandpa had made for storing his and Grandma’s decorations. When the last box was set down next to the tree, Grandpa told me to go up and get Grandma’s small sewing box from her sewing room.

I went back upstairs, alone this time. The sewing room door was at the top of the stairs on the left and was kept closed. When I opened the door, I saw that everything was just like she had left it. Grandpa must clean this room, I thought, because there wasn’t a speck of dust in sight. Her old treadle sewing machine was under the window that looked out over the pasture. Her tatting board still had bobbins on it from when she had started to make another lace doily. There were bits and pieces of material that she used to make quilts and embroidery hoops for her flowery designs on pillow cases. I could almost see her sitting there in the warm sunny room, transforming something mundane and utilitarian into a work of art.

I found the small sewing kit that Grandpa had asked for, then backed quietly to the door. Taking one last look around the room, I pulled the door shut.

“Here it is, Grandpa,” I said as I hurried back into the front room. At his direction, I set it down with the other wooden boxes.

“Well, John.” Tom, sitting in the chair opposite Grandpa, stretched. “This time I really do have to get going. I still have some chores to get done and the Mrs. is probably getting lunch fixed right about now.” Grandpa told Lenny to go out to the corral and bring Jack back into the barn, then fetch Tom’s horse for him.

Tom stood up. “I’ll go over there with you, Lenny, and ride Billy from the barn.” Grandpa and Lanny and I followed them out to the kitchen, where they took their coats off the hooks by the door and prepared to go out into the cold. Tom shook our hands and wished us a Merry Christmas again before walking out the back door with Lenny.

As soon as they had gone, we started fixing lunch. Grandpa put a pot on the stove for corn while Lanny and I started shucking the ears. About the time that all the food was prepared and ready, Lenny came back inside and reported that Tom had left on Billy and Jack was back in his stall with food and water. We sat at the table, Grandpa said grace, and we all ate until we were stuffed.

After lunch while we were cleaning up, Grandpa announced, “You boys make sure you save the corn cobs.”

“For the pigs, Grandpa?” Lanny asked.

“No, so we can stick them in the oven to dry them out.”

We looked at one another and then at Grandpa. He just smiled.