Valley of Flowers
Monday, May 8, 2006
Valley of Flowers, that age-old tradition. On the way, Mom told the rest of them about their brief excursion to a park that Saturday, for Dad, Mom, Frances, and Linnea – a place three and a half hours south, past Rolla. It was there that nearly one hundred years ago, a wealthy man had brought over masons from Scotland to build him a castle of sixty rooms, but alas it had burned down and only the stone skeleton still remained. There was also a gristmill, which had burned down twice. And they hiked over an island, just as it began to rain, and saw two cavers emerge from the underground with lights. Later, they stopped in Rolla at supposedly the best dessert place in Missouri – A Slice of Pie, a hole-in-the-wall, but the best pie they had ever eaten.
“Dad ate my cheesecake,” Linnea turned around in her seat towards Collette, making an offended face.
“He was hovering over her piece like a vulture,” Mom agreed.
“I wasn’t going to take it from her,” Dad said calmly. “She didn’t want to finish it.”
“I only got this much,” Linnea held two fingers a quarter inch apart from each other. “But Dad ate all the cherries on top.”
Linnea did not like cherries anyway. And Mom also told them about how Frances got to play a duet with Mr. Mather on train whistles for one of the choir pieces at the choir workshop that Friday afternoon.
Once arriving in Old Town Florissant in front of their usual place – Korte’s Custom Framing 1946 – off St. Francois and Jefferson, they all lined up their chairs near Grandma’s (who had set hers out the night before to reserve the spot), except for Linus, who was off in the fairgrounds with friends. Lucia was there with her new piercing, just above the lip.
“Hey, you have a stick in your face,” OLeif began giving her a hard time about it.
“I’m going to set you on fire, OLeif!” Lucia threatened and then turned to another subject as she set up her chair. “Hey, my friend is taking me salsa dancing this week!”
And she and Carrie laughed and chatted rather loudly about things while the Boy Scouts marched by, selling cotton candy before the parade began. And soon it all started, with the Moolah shriners, corvettes with princesses, floats, candy and Maudi Gras beads, the usual… Of course, the only part Collette really enjoyed was the bagpipers, and they managed not to play a single note as they marched past. Collette wasn’t much for parades; it was the tradition of it all.
Then they all split up to get Bandanna’s BBQ and sodas from the grocery store. As they passed the police station, Lucia said loudly once again:
“No, we have some hot cops. Whoever drives #20. No, no, no, no this guy is hot!”
And so the rest of the evening was spent over BBQ and some television in the basement at the Broome’s while everyone talked over things and looked one last time at the old pine in front, which was coming down that Thursday, being too old to withstand another storm. But at least the two great old trees in the backyard would last longer than they had originally suspected.
“Now, I met a young man in the village one day
As I run to the shop for her bread-oh.
He’s asked me my name, but I had to away,
Lest me mistress should break me poor head.
Oh, dear me, how can it be?
The life of a servant has no liberty.