MaryAnna Bentley - Ella and Boss: My Agrarian Grandparents of Van Buren County, Iowa

My Agrarian Grandparents of Van Buren County,Iowa

Published by MaryAnna Bentley atSmashwords

Copyright 2011 MaryAnna Bentley

Preface/Disclaimer

This short memoir is for my family andeveryone who enjoys reading the memories. It is for those familymembers who remember my grandparents, but especially for those whonever had the pleasure of meeting them. I have put together thestories as I remember them. Please keep in mind that many timesnothing is ever really the way we remember it. If you knew thesefine people and remember things a bit differently, I totallyunderstand. I only recorded these events as I recalled them. Nomore, no less. Ive decided to share this work so that my memoriescan be enjoyed, not criticized or corrected. So if accuracy is yourconcern, no need to read further. These memories were written downsimply for enjoyment.

Chapter 1: Family Gatherings

Birthdays

Nearly every month, my fathers side of thefamily would gather for a birthday celebration, with the exceptionof November and December. (If you had a birthday in one of thosemonths you were expected to celebrate along with the Pilgrims orthe Christ Child.) It was these celebrations that developed andmatured my sweet tooth. Each family would bring a cake and a halfgallon of ice cream to Grandpa and Grandmas house, which meantfour different kinds of cake and four different kinds of ice creamsince the grandparents always contributed. There we would gorgeourselves, trying every kind of cake and ice cream available.Butterbrickle ice cream and Grandmas white cake with hickory nutswere always my favorites, though I never turned down the otheroptions. Seconds were encouraged. After all, we were healthy,growing kids who needed nourishment. Ill never forget packing intomy Grandmothers two bedroom, approximately eight hundred squarefoot house along with the other twelve grandchildren, all happy asclams at the proposition of multiple servings of cake and icecream; nor will I ever understand how she managed to raise threechildren in that space. But somehow, all twenty-one family membersmanaged to survive in those close quarters for our birthdaycelebrations. Occasionally, we were more than twenty-one whenGrandpas sister Daisy would come back from California with herdaughter, or his sister Carrie would get a rare urge toparticipate. Now and then a cousin of my fathers would show up forthe festivities. Mostly, though, it was just merely the twenty-oneof us!

Escape

During the cold months, birthday celebrationsentailed all the grandchildren gathered around the exposed gasstove that heated my grandparents house. We often fought over whohad the privilege of sitting on top of it. But during warmerweather the activities of the grandchildren stood in stark contrastto the gas stove arguments of the cooler months. Perhaps it was thegood weather, or our parents need to have a bit of adultconversation without hearing the cries of their thirteenoff-spring, that drove us outside during birthday celebrations inmilder weather. Whatever it was, we grandchildren found theexperience both adventurous and rewarding. There we were in thepitch-black dark on Grandpas farm with no supervision but thestars above and the farm dog, Tippy, who found frolicking andplaying with thirteen grandchildren to be more interesting thancoon-hunting any day. It was in these moments that we would playEscape. I was never quite sure of the rules of this game, but Ithink this was the idea behind it. Two or three of the oldergrandchildren were the jail keepers, and the younger grandchildrenhad all escaped from their jail. It was the responsibility of thejail keepers to seek out the jailbirds, so the youngergrandchildren had to hide accordingly. At the end of the game, themothers would holler out towards the barnyard for us to return tothe house (that, of course, was the only way the game ever ended).The jail keepers would win if they had more prisoners thanescapees, and the prisoners would win if there were more of them onthe loose than locked up. Now being one of the younger cousins, Imnot too sure I have the details correct, but I do know this I,along with other grandchildren under the age of eight, wasentrusted to some of the slightly older cousins who would make sureI was kept quiet, and would take me along with them to their greathiding spot. I was never a jail keeper, but that is what happenswhen you are the tenth of thirteen grandchildren. As the years wentby, the older grandchildren drifted off to college and fewer andfewer games of Escape were played, and, sadly, fewer and fewerbirthday celebrations were had, until they finally becameextinct.

Thanksgiving Eccentricities

Every Thanksgiving Grandma insisted that thefamily gather once again in that tiny house to eat dinner together.Naturally, there was an adult table and a kids table. The adulttable was dreadfully boring. I know this from personal experience.Up until about the age of five, I was forced to sit next to mymother at that table. I have no idea what they talked about, but Iheard voices similar to that of Charlie Browns teacher. I couldntwait until the meal was over so I could go play with the big kids.Better yet was when I gained the privilege of eating at the kidstable. Life was good. Not only did we have a separate table, but wewere also in a separate room. The adults had even prepared separateserving bowls filled with the same food of which they werepartaking. One particular Thanksgiving, Grandma came into the kidsroom to see if anyone wanted any more of her famous apple salad.This particular salad was made up of diced raw apples, hickorynuts, marshmallows, chopped celery and miracle whip. I alwaysthought that it would be a grand dish if only one left out thecelery and the miracle whip and replaced them with chocolate chipsand whip cream. Needless to say, it was a family tradition that Iwas not especially fond of, but my brother thought otherwise. Hegladly would take seconds. Of course, Grandma didnt give him timeto ask. She did her usual, Apple Salad? Yes or no? and plopped ahealthy serving down on his plate. Forgetting he had just asked oneof his cousins to pass him more via the kids serving bowl, hebegan merrily eating. My cousin, not to be outdone, gave him athird healthy serving atop his second. The wagers began. Could heeat it all or could he not? My brother was not one to lose money orthe opportunity to gain more. The bet was on. He became ten dollarsricher that day.

Christmas Generosity

Grandma faithfully decorated for Christmasevery year. Packing her handsaw and axe she descended into thetimber to find just the right cedar sapling that some bird hadplanted along a fence row. Charlie Brown had nothing on Grandma.Her pitiful tree could make his look like the prize tree of theWhite House. In fact, if Charlie Browns tree had been near byGrandmas, the true meaning of Christmas would have totally gonedown the tubes as the on-lookers relished in the beauty of CharlieBrowns tree. Perhaps thats why we never had our Christmascelebration at Grandmas house. Instead, the Christmas gatheringwas rotated between the homes of the three siblings. Ive neverseen such a spread of food in such close quarters anywhere else. Noone had a large house, so the twenty-one of us together with a pig,a turkey and all the fixings did make for a tight fit. The twentypies and sixteen cakes took up some space too, but there was alwaysroom for the homemade Christmas candy. The maple drops were myfavorite, but the hickory-nut filled fudge ran a close second,followed by the white chocolate covered pretzels. Of course, noneof this would hold any importance without Grandpas ten-dollarbills. Amazingly, the man who we perceived as the tight wad duringthe other eleven months of the year, seemed to go through somestrange transformation at Christmas time, much like that of the Dr.Seuss infamous Grinch. So each year around the holidays, to thegreat delight of his thirteen grandchildren, he went to the bank,pulled out thirteen new, crisp ten-dollar bills and slid each oneinto its own holiday money envelope. Most years it came with anorange on the side. We were all delighted. Every year we expectedit, and every year he came through. One year an extra child camewith my family from my mothers side of the family. Somehow,Grandpa scrounged up another new ten-dollar bill for her. He gaveit to her apologetically, expressing regret that he didnt have aholiday money envelope to put it in.