Thursdays in the Spring, Summer and Fall are weed eatin' days at my parents' house. Over the past week, we've endured days of the midnight sun here in Roanoke. Clouds and rain have been wholly encompassing. Today, in stark contrast, offered a glimpse of sun and an opportunity to catch up in the yard.
I went over to my parents' house today and began working on the yard. Weeds had taken advantage of the rain and had leap ahead at warp speed. My father had tamed the largest portion of the yard by running his trademarked Cub Cadet. It took a while, but the weeding and associated blowing was eventually completed.
The great surprise for me on this visit was news that my Uncle Tony and his two sons would be stopping over this evening. I haven't seen "The Ohio Ryders" in some time. So I made plans to stay. I always enjoy seeing Uncle Tony. Anthony Ryder is the oldest of my father's surviving siblings. He was born in 1912, I believe, which puts him in his upper 90's. Uncle Tony doesn't hear well, uses a cane to get around, but he is spry and still packs a powerful handshake. Uncle Tony is a man who has always taken a firm hand and looked the person dead in the eye. That style of handshake, these days, is rare.
Uncle Tony was escorted by his two sons and his daughter-in-law. He was returning from a week-long visit with his Alabama son, Steve and his wife Shirley. His son Joe came to Roanoke from New jersey to pick him up to take back to their home. Since Tony's wife, Bee, passed away a few years ago, he has lived with Joe.
It was great seeing my cousins again. We are all so "Ryder." It's so obvious to me that we come from the same family. Joe is a dead ringer for my late Uncle Stan, at least as I remember him. While Steve and my brother Joe share distinct physical similarities.
We talked out on the back porch as evening descended. Squirrels, possoms, skunks, and other critters eventually wove their way into the discourse. Eventually, and as you might expect, the conversation turned to North Haven, New York-home of our grandparents. Joe told of his kayak expedition around the island last summer. How they launched from Sunset Beach and luckily paddled across the Shelter Island ferry landing at slack tide. Then how they got caught in a lightning storm and had to hide under the Sag Harbor bridge before making a sprint for Long Beach. I could clearly see each piece of their adventure. It occured to me that the Ohio Ryders and the Roanoke Ryders all shared similar experiences growing up as we visited Long Island to reconnect with the family home base.
It sure was great seeing the Ohio relatives.
I went over to my parents' house today and began working on the yard. Weeds had taken advantage of the rain and had leap ahead at warp speed. My father had tamed the largest portion of the yard by running his trademarked Cub Cadet. It took a while, but the weeding and associated blowing was eventually completed.
The great surprise for me on this visit was news that my Uncle Tony and his two sons would be stopping over this evening. I haven't seen "The Ohio Ryders" in some time. So I made plans to stay. I always enjoy seeing Uncle Tony. Anthony Ryder is the oldest of my father's surviving siblings. He was born in 1912, I believe, which puts him in his upper 90's. Uncle Tony doesn't hear well, uses a cane to get around, but he is spry and still packs a powerful handshake. Uncle Tony is a man who has always taken a firm hand and looked the person dead in the eye. That style of handshake, these days, is rare.
Uncle Tony was escorted by his two sons and his daughter-in-law. He was returning from a week-long visit with his Alabama son, Steve and his wife Shirley. His son Joe came to Roanoke from New jersey to pick him up to take back to their home. Since Tony's wife, Bee, passed away a few years ago, he has lived with Joe.
It was great seeing my cousins again. We are all so "Ryder." It's so obvious to me that we come from the same family. Joe is a dead ringer for my late Uncle Stan, at least as I remember him. While Steve and my brother Joe share distinct physical similarities.
We talked out on the back porch as evening descended. Squirrels, possoms, skunks, and other critters eventually wove their way into the discourse. Eventually, and as you might expect, the conversation turned to North Haven, New York-home of our grandparents. Joe told of his kayak expedition around the island last summer. How they launched from Sunset Beach and luckily paddled across the Shelter Island ferry landing at slack tide. Then how they got caught in a lightning storm and had to hide under the Sag Harbor bridge before making a sprint for Long Beach. I could clearly see each piece of their adventure. It occured to me that the Ohio Ryders and the Roanoke Ryders all shared similar experiences growing up as we visited Long Island to reconnect with the family home base.
It sure was great seeing the Ohio relatives.
No comments:
Post a Comment