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“Pffft”, he says when he’s fed-up.
He huffs like a big cat.
Poor lad is the only young boy, with a group of old girl-cats that don’t appreciate his attempts to engage them in play.
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“Have to beat-up dryer-ball instead.”
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Little Man is a similar size to Muffin, but she is all fur and not much else. I doubt she weighs 4 pounds now and she is old and frail, so when Little Man gets rough with her, he gets shouted at.
“Humph!” he says as he flops down.
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The boy has grown a lot in six months but he still loves to ride on shoulders.
And he is as endearing as ever.
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For Monday:
Pussycats and pretty sights.
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Late sun catching the horse farm.
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As the Sun sinks below the hill behind us, it lights the tops of trees.
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It’s a favourite time of day for me, especially when there is snow on the ground.
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And when it looks like this.
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Parts of Florida recently received 9 inches of snow, which is almost twice the amount we’ve had here so far this winter and most unusual!
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After leaving Barbados, my parents went to live in Florida for a few years and there found winters far too cool for their liking.
They had morning frost occasionally, but fortunately never snow.
Summers were too hot and humid.
Barbados had been close to perfect.
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Why leave a place that is perfect?
My parent’s business was on the market for years. When a buyer was found suddenly, it all had to happen in a few short weeks.
Before I knew it, I’d collected them and their 13 pieces of baggage and brought them to new York in January.
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Some of the bags were tied with string.
So was Dad. He had not worn a belt in years and as he got ready to depart, discovered that it was too small.
Mum was always practical. His pants had to be kept up and if the belt wouldn’t fasten, it had to be tied.
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That day was a shock – to me.
At breakfast time Mum and Dad were my parents. That afternoon, with a change of clothing, they became dependents.
Forevermore they would seek my opinion and help.
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If I’d been asked before they left the island, I would have suggested purchasing a small home off the tourist path and remaining there, even if only temporarily.
My parents always seemed to assume I knew what they wanted or needed. They had not said they intended to remain in America, so I thought they would spend a day or two and carry on to England.
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Shock number 2. Installing them in the quarters I’d arranged, my father announced that they would not be leaving until Spring.
A work colleague rented them a tiny place just off the beach which must still smell of Dad’s cigar smoke.
He stood puffing all winter at the window, watching aeroplanes approaching and leaving JFK.
And commenting on the seagulls and which way they were facing that day.
When it was warm enough, in May I think, they flew down to Florida to find a home and purchased a house that was the most pink structure I have ever laid eyes on.
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My parents painted out the worst of it, but there was nothing to do about the oven door which was also pink.
Pink is very popular in Florida.
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The house was in St Petersburg which is one of the most confusing places I ever had to drive.
It is laid our in streets and avenues which are identified by number rather than name.
In time, I would have cracked the system but I was never there long enough to remember which was which.
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Visits were always a little stressful, with some major task that needed addressing, but one morning in particular which stands out.
Dad listened to the BBC news and that morning there was a report of a Spanish charter airliner that had crashed in Malaga. It had been carrying 380 passengers. I knew instantly it was the flight we handled at JFK.
Maybe the thing you most dread, working for an airline, is the idea of having to cope with a crash. This was not our airline, but we did all the passenger processing.
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You’d think I would have been relieved to be on leave, not even contactable, but I wasn’t.
First I was shocked, the way I had been when Pan Am 103 was bombed, flying out of Heathrow to JFK. When it’s something close to home, it makes an impact.
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In 1985 an Air India flight on its way from Montreal to London was downed by a bomb off the coast of Ireland.
Every time I flew to London after that, I couldn’t get my mind off that flight, picturing exactly what would have been happening on board as they approached the coast.
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When you work with aeroplanes and air crew, I suppose it’s natural to be upset by crashes.
When that Spanish flight crashed on take-off, most of the people on board survived, although for a couple of weeks after, coffins carrying the 50 victims arrived on the aircraft that was sub-let to operate the service.
It is likely more would have survived if they had not stopped to collect their hand baggage.
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But that morning I did not want to be sitting around making small talk with my parents. I wanted to be at JFK with my colleagues, doing something useful.
Finding out if I could be useful.
My parents couldn’t understand why I was upset. I think they had been numbed by WW2. Dad never expressed emotion about anything.
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Mum did so rarely, that when it happened it was alarming.
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As for me, I never did find out how much good I would be in a real crisis.
I’ve just spent a few enjoyable minutes travelling around Barbados on Google maps!
This is one of your episodes that packs several emotional punches.
I really enjoy the way you weave your story lines together!
Also, Little Man is so adorable! 😻
Thank you for sharing.
Catherine
Thank you so much, Carolyn, for your wonderfully interesting post, including Little Man and your memories of your parents, and of course, your excellent photography!
Joanna
Absolutely, your photos at sunset with snow covered fields are beautiful. I think Little Man will have to get an imaginary friend to play with 😀. I’ve heard of many strange things in my life … but a pink oven door? Never before! I guess one will always wonder how you would act in a crisis – perhaps I prefer not to find out …
When you work in a job and a disaster strikes, it does hit home, I’m sure. I worked in a job where I had to go to the actual disasters, and I was always too busy to think about what to do to think about the impact on the employees and victims. I once attended a training exercise where we saw the video footage shot by the emergency services after the Lockerbie crash. I saw things on that film that were never shown to the public, and those images have stayed with me ever since. It would have been different if I had been there working, dealing with the immediacy of what I was required to do as an EMT.
Best wishes, Pete.