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Strawberry Memorial Day

Grandpa Earl Volpert, Sr. WW II

Grandpa Earl Volpert, Sr. WW II

Memorial Day is a special day to be reserved for those service men who did not return home.

Butch’s dad, Earl Volpert Sr., did come home after serving as a medic in Italy in WWII.  Earl Jr. (Butch or Dado as he is better known) was two before his father held him.  He spent many years coaching the boys of St. Patrick’s Elementary the art of playing basketball.    He worked his way up through the ranks of the Terre Haute Fire Department.  After retirement from the THFD, he was the Asst. Director of Civil Defense in Terre Haute.  The Cuban Missile Crisis was ever bit as scary as the unrests of today

His joy was a premie named Beth.  When she got old enough to enjoy real food her favorite was strawberries.  We made the trip from northern Indiana to Terre Haute about every three months.  In the worst of Winter somehow he always found fresh strawberries for her arrival. This was the early ‘60’s, a far different grocery shopping world than today.  His house was full of several generations and not a lot of dollars. It is the memories that count in families.

In my multigenerational garden in Grayson, GA the strawberry plants have not produced well.  This Spring we took Jackson, Steve and Kim’s 4 yr. old, to the strawberry fields in Loganville to pick his own gallon.  Like his Auntie “B” they are his favorite food. However, yesterday I noticed that Jackson’s strawberry plant on his back deck has sprouted new tendrils and flowers.  My circuitous thinking says to me that on this Memorial Day it is Grandpa Volpert Sr.’s way of saying hello to a little strawberry loving fellow with the last name of Volpert.  Sr. died years before there was a Jackson, but it is the memories that count in families.

Marianne “Ditdo” Lough Volpert writes along with her daughter, Beth in the Multigenerational Garden. They live in Grayson, GA.

www.freelancebeth.com

 

Multigenerational Garden…Mother’s Day Musings

Ditdo is modeling her Easter bonnet complete with garden customization.

Ditdo in her garden.

From Ditdo…aka grandma/Marianne Volpert who is a regular contributor to this blog dubbed Multigenerational Garden…

Out my kitchen window the generations move on.  The lilac named Miss Kim, Beth gave to me is about done, but I see the first bud on Sharon’s peony and the iris that came from Grandma Catherine Volpert’s garden when she moved from Terre Haute to Grayson are in full bloom.

Plants and flowers represent so many special people.

Plants and flowers represent so many special people.

Kim is my daughter-in-law’s name. I love her for many reasons.  The most important one is that she has shared her husband and her son’s time so graciously with me. Beth is my daughter and even better, my friend. We share lots, most importantly my two older grandsons. Sharon was my sister-in-law with the emphasis on sister.   She was only 12 when I joined this family and  because neither one of us had sisters we made the relationship become what the best of sisters share. Cancer took her much too early in life.  Catherine was my mother-in-law. It was amazing to watch her become an independent woman. She didn’t attempt emancipation until she was in her ‘60’s but she went gung-ho then including getting a license to drive.  No sixteen year old ever felt the rush of freedom that being behind a car can give more than Catherine.  Alzheimers took that independence but it was a good twenty-plus year ride.

Daughter-in-law, daughter, sister-in-law, mother-in-law all there in the garden for me to see first thing as I am making the morning coffee.

What a lucky Ditdo am I.

Multigenerational Garden…wine bottle opener whine…

Two bottle openers, two methods…one result!

Two bottle openers, two methods…one result!

Ditdo frequently laments my trapdoor memory for all manner of useless and sometimes useful information. She says it is just heXX getting older and not being able to do things that we “younger” folks can do with ease…(yeah right…).

One of the categories that stands out in the long list of things I “cannot” do is our selection of wine bottle openers. We have all sorts, but two of them are used the most. One is your average, every day dollar store variety. You know…screw in, press down the vice and viola! you have an opened bottle of wine to cure your whine. The other is a source of constant consternation for me (the “younger”). It is one of those XO models that is supposed to be good for arthritic hands. My 71 year-old mom has no trouble WHATSOEVER utilizing this fancy tool to pop open a bottle of her favorite merlot or sauvignon blanc. She places the instrument upon the top of the bottle and within a second or two has her bottle open. I cannot operate the blasted thing to save my life. It completely confounds me beyond reason. I generally end up with a shredded cork and bits floating around in my chardonnay. This leads to having to strain the bits out using a method fully tested by my mother and me, but like I am apt to say…that is a totally different story.

So, in the meantime, I am often humbled to be forced to ask my mommy to open my bottle of wine. But, in the end, if there is a bit of whining to do, well, we do that equally well-mostly on the front piazza in our multigenerational garden where I will no doubt dredge up some sort of useless trivia from the depths of my brain  to take our minds off of the current subject of whine.

Multigenerational Garden musings Dado…

Dado and Rebadog celebrate 2 years since open-heart surgery.

Dado and Rebadog celebrate 2 years since open-heart surgery.

Meet Earl. He has a few monikers, Dado is his favorite, but we also like to call him “Chief Mended-Heart”.  Just over 2 years ago, he had open-heart surgery at Gwinnett Medical Center and he is pictured here in our multigenerational garden with his trusty sidekick, Reba.

On this particular sunny southern day, Dado was preparing the soil for “the great potato experiment.” His middle grandson, Alex, wandered out into the garden and pondered the scene. He asked, “What are you planting?” Dado answered, “Potatoes.” Alex paused and then asked, “Are you planning to make vodka?”

And so it goes in the multigenerational garden.