Flying Ice Pops?

I love a good parade.  The marching bands, children from schools and scouting troops skipping down the street, Shriners scurrying about in miniature cars are all elements of an engaging summer parade.  Imagine my surprise when none of these things appeared in a parade I recently attended in a nearby town.

Picture this:  A main street from the early 1900's.  False store fronts cover small drab colored buildings.  The businesses are mom and pop stores with names like "Tiny's Grocery" and "Kandy Kitchen" (the local bar).  There is some modernization at the west end of town.  A booming grain elevator hovers over main street.  Across from that is something not to be seen within a 100 miles, no 200 miles, no, I'm not sure how far, (there is one in Coronado, CA) a full service gas station!

Lawn chairs are crammed together along the main street sidewalk.  There is excitement humming down the street as people of all ages await the start of the parade.  I'm pretty sure my group of parade goers had the oldest and youngest parade watchers.  My seven month old cousin slept through the anticipation in his stroller and my 95 year old uncle was smiling from ear to ear awaiting the opening march.

                                                                                     

The parade did not start out with the usual high school band or dressed up horses.  In fact it had none of what I considered "usual" entertainment.  The local fire truck began the parade with small children perched on top.  It was followed by a large John Deere tractor.  One I see parading down my road most days.  Then came the four wheeler driven by a teenager pulling his parents in a trailer equipped with lawn chairs and an ice chest.

What kind of parade was this?

Next to my surprise came my cousin.  He was driving his beloved prairie gold Minneapolis Moline tractor.  He also pulled a trailer with his children, grandchildren, and great grandchild.  They were sitting on replica Minneapolis Moline tractors and lawn chairs.  Their trailer was decked out with an umbrella and a picnic table.  Small items zinged from the people in the trailer.  They were tossing candy and ice pops!  It was sweltering hot.  I scrambled for an ice pop.  Not for me, of course, but the uncle must be hot!

More tractors, new and old, drove by.  Combines and cleaned up manure spreaders even graced the street.  A couple of plain saddled horses sauntered by.  So I did get my horse fix.  Then came two restored classic muscle cars driven by friends at church.  They were advertising the county fair.  Don't miss the fair!  (We did and we got stink eyes for doing it!) 

The pumper fire truck rambled down the street.  The front sprayer rotated back and forth.  There was no hurry as teenage boys jumped in the street to be drenched by the cool water.

Our plumber even drove his plumbing van in the parade route. Once he reached us, he slammed on  his brakes.  His door popped open.  Out rushed the plumber with his ammo.  He pelted the teenage boys sitting next to us with water balloons, jumped back in his van and continued on, waving as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Perhaps nothing out of the ordinary did happen.  This parade was like none other I had ever seen.  There is something exciting yet peaceful  to watch a parade where you know most of the participants.  Everyday people fancy-up their treasured tractors, four wheelers, or whatever is close to their heart.  They pull along friends and relatives.  Candy is tossed.  Parents are not afraid to let their children catch the candy, tear it open and eat it without inspecting it first.  Familiarity and trust are showcased.  This is what America is truly about!

I Didn't Do It!

I have been accused of many things in my life.  Some accusations were correct.  Others were way off base.  This time no one can pin it on me.  I was out of the state!

We lived in the country until I was nine.  My sisters were (still are) considerably older than me.  My play mates were our cats.  I could chase them around the green grass all morning.  After lunch we would snuggle in the warm sunshine.

We moved to the city when I was nine.  I was the typical latchkey kid.   I came home to an empty house after school.  But it was never lonely.  There was always a cat to welcome me at the door and give me endless hours of attention.  My parents frequently accused me of bringing cats home and pretending I had found them at the door.  I will take the Fifth on that.   

I am a cat person.  My children accuse me of getting older and being a cat hoarder.  One can not hoard cats.  Accumulating them through the years is easy.  Seeing how many can fit in bed with you without your husband catching on is the tricky part.

Seriously, we only have two cats.  A male and female.  They get along fabulously.  Bo, the male, is muscular at 17 pounds.  Brizzy, the female, is petite at 7 pounds.  Don't let the petite cat fool you.  She can stalk Bo, pounce on his back and take him down.  Brizzy has to stretch out one white paw to touch Bo while they sleep.  They complete our household.

So, Doug and I had a surprise waiting for us after a weeks vacation.  Twelve feet up in our maple tree was a tiny black kitten. (Let me say again; I was out of the state.  I did not plant this kitten!)  Her body was all eyes.  She had a pitiful mew!  The poor kitty was lost and hungry.  I told her, "Don't worry!  Doug's a fireman.  He'll get you down!"

Sure enough, Doug reached out his arms and down she scampered.  Where did she come from?  We live five miles from town and a half mile from our nearest neighbor.  We bundled her up, jumped back in the truck to ask our neighbors if they lost a kitten.  No one claimed her.  So we sped into town for kitten food. 

While Doug was in the Country Store purchasing food, I was in the truck scheming.  This kitten needed a name if  Doug was going to let me keep her.  And I was going to keep her!  Doug hopped back in the truck and I announced,  "I think we should call her Midnight."

"I was thinking the same thing," he said to my astonishment.  He wanted her too.  I had married a keeper!

Midnight's meeting of her new brother and sister went so-so.  Brizzy was appalled at the idea of another female in the house.  In fact, she hissed so much she got a sore throat and had to visit the doctor.  Bo was a little more excited.  He realized this meant there would be kitten food in the house for him to steal.  He was so excited about that, he meowed and meowed with joy.  Then he got a sore throat and had to go to the doctor too.

Now we are one happy family. The cats have settled into their routines.  Brizzy and Midnight roll around and pounce on each other.  Bo watches and wonders what all the exertion of energy is about.  Bo sleeps at my feet.  Brizzy snoozes between my legs.  Midnight sleeps curled up by my neck.  Doug, well, he pretends he doesn't notice the felines taking up most of the bed and snuggles beside me.  We are family!