| Biographical Non-Fiction posted February 14, 2021 | Chapters: |
...100 101 -102- 103... 
|
  |
The first weeks in our new house
A chapter in the book Remembering Yesterday
Settling In
by BethShelby
| Background From the New Orleans area to Chattanooga, Evan has retired. Don and Christi, are 25 and still live at home. Connie is 14, Don is dating Kimberly. Carol is married to Glen. |
.jpg)
For new readers, who may not have read my author notes, this is written in a conversational way as I talk to my deceased husband. When I refer to someone just as "you" this means I am addressing my husband, Evan.
We were thrilled with our new house. After spending most of our lives living in smaller houses, we now had more room than we knew what to do with. You had all sorts of plans that you wanted to implement. There was a place in the back of the lot where you could put a garden, but first you wanted to fence in the backyard. Our lot backed up to the Chattanooga city line. This meant we would only be paying county taxes and not city, so financially that was a plus.
The right side of our lot was on the Georgia state line. We were in Hamilton County in Tennessee, but just barely. Kids from the Georgia subdivision had made a walking path across our lot, because it was a way into our subdivision without having to drive for miles to the streets that connected the two states. You weren’t comfortable with that, so you wanted to start fencing our lot as soon as the weather permitted.
The first week after we moved in, we met Gloria, the lady who lived on our left. She was very friendly. Her husband didn’t seem that interested in making new friends. He owned an insurance agency and was an official in his church. Gloria was a stay-at-home mom. We learned they were Mormons, and that they had six children ranging in age from the early twenties to around six. The two youngest boys were always out playing in the street, or on our drive with skateboards. One of the girls was Connie’s age. The couple who lived on the other side of us both worked, and we seldom saw them.
Our first winter, the weather was unusually cold, and we had a rare snowstorm shortly after moving in. It didn’t take long to learn that because of our steeply sloping driveway, it wasn’t wise to get out unless it was necessary. Since we didn’t have to be out, we stayed home until the roads were cleared.
We were all delighted with the snow. We had always lived much further south, and a 10-in. snow was a rare treat. The kids and I searched for objects we could use as sleds. Even you and I went down our hillside several times on plastic garbage-can lids. Since we were at the top of the hill, kids from all over the subdivision were using the top of our driveway as a place to launch their sleds. If they turned just right, they could coast for a quarter of a mile.
******
Kimberly quickly became a regular around our house. When she wasn’t at our house, Don was out with her. She was an extremely extroverted and friendly person. She was almost too outgoing for our family, since we usually were a bit more reserved. She and Christi clashed from the beginning because Christi saw her as a rival for her brother’s attention. Kimberly didn’t seem to like having Christi around when she was with Don. Connie, on the other hand, bonded with her right away.
A few weeks into the New Year, Jane, Kimberly’s mom who was our real estate lady, invited our family over to their house for lunch. They lived out in the country on a small farm. Jane’s husband, Bobby, was an easy-going country-boy type, who drove an 18-wheeler for McKee Bakery, the maker of the Little Debbie products. You and Bobby got along well. Jane talked constantly about everything imaginable. They had two other children, a girl a bit older than Connie and a boy about Connie’s age. Their family were members of the same type church denomination as ours, but they went to a smaller church. We planned to attend the large Collegedale church.
******
Connie begged for a kitten, since we had lost her cat, Panthette, before we left Metairie. I looked in the paper for ads for kittens, but there weren’t any. I found an ad for two Himalayan cats that were only a year-old. They were a male and a female, both neutered, and they came with various items, including a nice enclosed litter box. The owners were moving into a place that didn’t allow pets.
You reluctantly agreed that we could take them. For the first day or so, they hid in unknown spots, but eventually hunger brought them out. They weren’t the kind of cats that enjoyed being held or petted, but they were beautiful. Connie wasn’t that interested in them, because she had wanted a kitten.
On our first visit back to Mississippi, my aunt told us about some beautiful puppies her friend had for sale. All the kids and I wanted a dog. You were reluctant, but in the end, we persuaded you to go look at the puppies. They were Eskimo Spitz dogs, and they were solid white with curly hair. Perhaps we should have taken it as a warning when the grown dogs, which were running loose, seemed vicious. It was all the owner could do to keep them from attacking us.
We came home with one of the puppies, which Connie named Kokomo. Even when he was a young pup, we couldn’t make quick moves around him, or he would snap at us. Since the yard wasn’t fenced yet and the weather was cold, we planned to keep him inside. Connie kept him in her room upstairs, and we put papers down in her bathroom. Unfortunately no one in the family knew enough about dogs to know how to properly train them.
Once, Kokomo ran out on the deck from our master bedroom. You grabbed at him to keep him from slipping through the decking and off the edge. He snapped, and you got a severe bite on your hand.
A few weeks after we got Kokomo, he became very sick and quit eating. We took him to a veterinarian, who diagnosed him with the potentially deadly virus, Parvo. He kept him for several days, and when we got him back, the vet was still unsure if he would survive. He gradually got better, but his temperament seemed less stable than before. We decided the high fever might have affected his brain. You started building him a dog house. You said as soon as the yard was fenced and the weather permitted, Kokomo should live on the back deck.
We had no way of knowing at the time, that this little dog would strike fear in the heart of all visitors to our home for the next eighteen years.
We were thrilled with our new house. After spending most of our lives living in smaller houses, we now had more room than we knew what to do with. You had all sorts of plans that you wanted to implement. There was a place in the back of the lot where you could put a garden, but first you wanted to fence in the backyard. Our lot backed up to the Chattanooga city line. This meant we would only be paying county taxes and not city, so financially that was a plus.
The right side of our lot was on the Georgia state line. We were in Hamilton County in Tennessee, but just barely. Kids from the Georgia subdivision had made a walking path across our lot, because it was a way into our subdivision without having to drive for miles to the streets that connected the two states. You weren’t comfortable with that, so you wanted to start fencing our lot as soon as the weather permitted.
The first week after we moved in, we met Gloria, the lady who lived on our left. She was very friendly. Her husband didn’t seem that interested in making new friends. He owned an insurance agency and was an official in his church. Gloria was a stay-at-home mom. We learned they were Mormons, and that they had six children ranging in age from the early twenties to around six. The two youngest boys were always out playing in the street, or on our drive with skateboards. One of the girls was Connie’s age. The couple who lived on the other side of us both worked, and we seldom saw them.
Our first winter, the weather was unusually cold, and we had a rare snowstorm shortly after moving in. It didn’t take long to learn that because of our steeply sloping driveway, it wasn’t wise to get out unless it was necessary. Since we didn’t have to be out, we stayed home until the roads were cleared.
We were all delighted with the snow. We had always lived much further south, and a 10-in. snow was a rare treat. The kids and I searched for objects we could use as sleds. Even you and I went down our hillside several times on plastic garbage-can lids. Since we were at the top of the hill, kids from all over the subdivision were using the top of our driveway as a place to launch their sleds. If they turned just right, they could coast for a quarter of a mile.
******
Kimberly quickly became a regular around our house. When she wasn’t at our house, Don was out with her. She was an extremely extroverted and friendly person. She was almost too outgoing for our family, since we usually were a bit more reserved. She and Christi clashed from the beginning because Christi saw her as a rival for her brother’s attention. Kimberly didn’t seem to like having Christi around when she was with Don. Connie, on the other hand, bonded with her right away.
A few weeks into the New Year, Jane, Kimberly’s mom who was our real estate lady, invited our family over to their house for lunch. They lived out in the country on a small farm. Jane’s husband, Bobby, was an easy-going country-boy type, who drove an 18-wheeler for McKee Bakery, the maker of the Little Debbie products. You and Bobby got along well. Jane talked constantly about everything imaginable. They had two other children, a girl a bit older than Connie and a boy about Connie’s age. Their family were members of the same type church denomination as ours, but they went to a smaller church. We planned to attend the large Collegedale church.
******
Connie begged for a kitten, since we had lost her cat, Panthette, before we left Metairie. I looked in the paper for ads for kittens, but there weren’t any. I found an ad for two Himalayan cats that were only a year-old. They were a male and a female, both neutered, and they came with various items, including a nice enclosed litter box. The owners were moving into a place that didn’t allow pets.
You reluctantly agreed that we could take them. For the first day or so, they hid in unknown spots, but eventually hunger brought them out. They weren’t the kind of cats that enjoyed being held or petted, but they were beautiful. Connie wasn’t that interested in them, because she had wanted a kitten.
On our first visit back to Mississippi, my aunt told us about some beautiful puppies her friend had for sale. All the kids and I wanted a dog. You were reluctant, but in the end, we persuaded you to go look at the puppies. They were Eskimo Spitz dogs, and they were solid white with curly hair. Perhaps we should have taken it as a warning when the grown dogs, which were running loose, seemed vicious. It was all the owner could do to keep them from attacking us.
We came home with one of the puppies, which Connie named Kokomo. Even when he was a young pup, we couldn’t make quick moves around him, or he would snap at us. Since the yard wasn’t fenced yet and the weather was cold, we planned to keep him inside. Connie kept him in her room upstairs, and we put papers down in her bathroom. Unfortunately no one in the family knew enough about dogs to know how to properly train them.
Once, Kokomo ran out on the deck from our master bedroom. You grabbed at him to keep him from slipping through the decking and off the edge. He snapped, and you got a severe bite on your hand.
A few weeks after we got Kokomo, he became very sick and quit eating. We took him to a veterinarian, who diagnosed him with the potentially deadly virus, Parvo. He kept him for several days, and when we got him back, the vet was still unsure if he would survive. He gradually got better, but his temperament seemed less stable than before. We decided the high fever might have affected his brain. You started building him a dog house. You said as soon as the yard was fenced and the weather permitted, Kokomo should live on the back deck.
We had no way of knowing at the time, that this little dog would strike fear in the heart of all visitors to our home for the next eighteen years.
 Recognized |
I'm continuing to recall memories of life with my deceased husband, Evan, as if I am talking aloud to him. I'm doing this because I want my children to know us as we knew each other and not just as their parents.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. 
You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.
© Copyright 2024. BethShelby All rights reserved.
BethShelby has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
