Tag Archives: Thanksgiving

Welcome to Crawfish Creek Manor, God’s Waiting Room… Entry #8

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(Disclaimer: This blog is in no way meant to offend anyone, it is just reality as I, Ira Mae Busybody perceives life, and my personal opinion.  Places, names and faces have been changed to protect the cantankerous, mean spirited, nosey, bitchy and innocent.)

 

Welcome to Crawfish Creek Manor, God’s Waiting Room…

 

Hello Bloggers and Followers,

Turkey Day over, I have been away from my computer, now I am back, out of food coma; and after being away from home for several days I am restless, ready for a few “normal” days before the next big one, Christmas.  Thank you for being tolerant of no entries during my few days off.  Nevertheless, she is back! 

Where did I leave all of you good folk?  Ah…Rosemary Wilson renting to anyone who is breathing, Mr. Roy and I enjoying a great 2011 Thanksgiving, Smelly Bob’s fantasy story and of my shocking implications that I may or may not be Gay to the gossipers’!  My final statement…”Old people you gotta love them.

I spent the holiday with my children, and believe me it is true, the apple does not fall far from the tree.  We are a blended family that is together during holidays with ex-spouses as well, so the children have all parents with them on these special days. In addition, we are very blessed with many extended (close friends) family members. 

Days of decorating houses, preparing and eating food that represented the many different cultures of everyone, wine and beer tasting, coffee, tea and the call of “who is in the bathroom(s), I gotta pee”!  Dogs chasing children and children chasing dogs, the cat hides from it all; my puppy chewed on the leg of my daughters’ dining room chair and with us sitting there.

With leftovers, children, pets in hand everyone left over the next few days and I remain behind, the last to leave, I needed to rest before I begin my long drive home. 

Another holiday on the pages of my journal, visions embed within my mind, I drove thinking about those I left behind, and those whom were not with us this year; their memory weighed upon us all touching our hearts through all of the happiness and cheer.

As I turned into the driveway of Crawfish Creek Manor, my thoughts went to Mr. Roy who passed on before the pumpkin season began this year.  My pup and I went into the apartment without seeing a soul, thank goodness.  I sat down at my table and poured two shots of “Jack”, one for me and one for Mr. Roy.  Life goes on, but for me with one less smile.

 

Mr. Roy 1933-2012

I could hear Mr. Roy…”No more sadness girlie, the old biddies will be out in full force tomorrow wanting to know where you been.”  He is right you know so for now, I will take the rest of the night to remember my old friend and tomorrow is another day.

Well, dear bloggers and followers, I must close the shutters on today’s. Writing… until tomorrow, remember a shot of “Jack” a day will keep the doctor away, and if you are a senior citizen just keep telling yourself… breathe damn’it.

 

Ira Mae Busybody

Crawfish Creek Manor

 

 

©2012.crawfishcreekmanor. (All Rights Reserved).

 

Welcome to Crawfish Creek Manor, God’s Waiting Room… Entry #6

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Disclaimer: This blog is in no way meant to offend anyone, it is just reality as I, Ira Mae Busybody perceives life, and my personal opinion.  Places, names and faces have been changed to protect the cantankerous, mean spirited, nosey, bitchy and innocent.

Welcome to Crawfish Creek Manor, God’s Waiting Room…

 

Hello Bloggers and Followers,

Last entry I left all of you with my bike ride, the active tri-county redhead Ms Laura, and my wonderful friend and confidant Mr. Roy, who still has an eye for the women and makes the worst coffee since the discovery of the coffee bean.

I have never spent such a lovely, quiet and peaceful morning, Mr. Roy and I never had a lapse in conversation.  He told me about the love of his life whom he had lost after fifty years of marriage, and I for the first time talked about my failed forty-year marriage.  We walked the pumpkin patch to retrieve a perfect pumpkin, he promised to make me a pie, I hate to cook and he loved playing chef.  By noon, we had roamed among the trees, and we did pick the one that Mr. Roy said was beckoning us to take it for a Christmas tree.  Neither of us had celebrated any holidays for many years.

In the twilight of the evening and with the help of some neighboring farmers the house inside and out glowed with lights and decorations, a special glow!  Everyone left, I smiled at the wonder of spending an entire day filled with happiness.  Mr. Roy loaded my bike into the back of the old Ford truck, and we pulled out of the driveway.  I looked back as the radiance of the house faded and then gone as we turned onto the highway; I could not stop the silent tears that ran down my face.

Mr. Roy said; don’t be sad it will all be there tomorrow when you come back.  I could do no more than look at him saying…

“Come back”!

“Well of course, and early, I have a Thanksgiving dinner to make for my new friend”.

When we turned into the driveway of Crawfish Creek Manor, I shook my head in amazement.  I had rode through Hell Town without even noticing it, and now the reality of walking through the front door of the Manor was going to bring to a close what had been an exceptional day.

Without giving a second thought, I said…

“Mr. Roy, you like Jack Daniels”?

“Girl, how could I have been so lucky today, of course”.  His smile broadened and we walked into the Manor.

The “Gathering Room” packed with old men staring at a sea of blue waves and curls; it sounded much like a chicken farm.  So many mouths were moving at the same time the only sound I could hear…

“Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck”!

When Mr. Roy and I walked past them a silence fell over the room, I heard behind me, the Warden whisper to Mouth, “Well I never”!  I turned to face her…

“And, you probably never will”. 

That my friends was my first Thanksgiving at Crawfish Creek, I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving this year and if you’re in Clinton be sure to stop and pick up your Christmas tree from Mr. Roy’s tree lot.

     

Well, dear bloggers and followers, I must close the shutters on today’s. Writing… until tomorrow, remember a shot of “Jack” a day will keep the doctor away, and if you are a senior citizen just keep telling yourself… breathe damn’it.

 

Ira Mae Busybody

Crawfish Creek Manor

 

 

©2012.crawfishcreekmanor.(All Rights Reserved).