Heritage of the Country

We spent last week in the country and I still have the rolling miles of wheat behind my eyelids and the sound of crickets and sprinklers echoing in my mind. And we were in good company. And we had time to think, or not, as we chose.

One of the things I had time to think about: how there are some people who have so much character and life, they live through stories of the next generation. And the time when I didn't think a lot? It's a beautiful non-verbal blank. That's what vacation is for: Just let your eyes follow the contour of the road, the wave of the wind over the grass, the great blue bowl of the sky... the mindless and beautiful motion of the windmills,  the color of the coals under your marshmallow... and listen to the stories.

Story- Uncle Ernie says: "Once my dad forgot his tuning fork when he went to a client's house, so he went outside and honked his horn because he knew the pitch of his horn, then ran inside and tuned the piano to it..."

Score one for the piano tuner!

Uncle Ernie quoted his sister: "Mom, what did you do with the rug beater before you had us?"

Uncle Ernie also quoted his mom: (translated from the German) "All good things have an end except a sausage and that has two."

Uncle Ernie is one of those completely irreplaceable people. He carries generations of anecdotal history with him. (Isn't that the best kind?!) I suppose I can tell stories about my heritage too, but it's more dry facts like my Cherokee great great great grandmother walked the trail of tears or that my teacher's teacher's teacher's teacher's teacher's teacher's teacher's teacher's teacher's teacher was J. S. Bach. Not cool quotes and anecdotes, like the time Uncle Ernie's dad was tuning a piano and a tiger walked into the room. And I know that someone who reads this could finish one of his favorite sayings:

"Dig in like a...."