said, “It is called a Tilly.” We casually received that fact and didn’t give it

another thought.

At that young age, I couldn’t help but believe my ears and snickered when I

heardsome woman’s name was Tilly. I thought, oh my gosh, she has no idea

what her name means.

***********

When we were little, we had two feral cats. One was called Barney and the other was TV, because he spent the majority of his cat naps staying warm on our large television cabinet. Both cats were usually good mousers.

You may remember I told you about how we could watch the scurrying river rats from our perch in the Box Elder tree we climbed. The two cats must have missed the very big river rat entering through the cellar door that made its way up the stairs, through an opened door to the dining room.

Mother frantically hefted us two little ones onto the brown varnished dining room table. We stood up there kicking, worried about our mother getting hurt. She chased the rat around with a broom until it returned to the cellar and she slammed the door shut. What a harrowing experience for the three of us.

*******

Every Spring Mother cleared out the snake families that nested in the

stonewall foundation so they wouldn’t seep into our cellar.

One of those times Timmy asked her to save him some of the babies. Standing

nearby, we were anxiously awaiting her gift to us.

Mother had no sooner placed the squirmy creatures in a pail and handed it to us

when they all headed for the top edge. Too close for comfort, Timmy and I threw

the pail down and ran. We decided against having any snakes for pets, babies,

or otherwise.

******

In our experimental small group living convent house I alluded to earlier, the

Chapel was in the cellar. Leila and I, the late-nighters were sitting in the living

room talking when we both noticed a strong wood smoke smell.

We thought our neighbor must be burning wood but hadn’t remembered it

seeping in so strongly.

Attempting to identify the wood he might be burning, we both named pine. At

that instant we remembered there was a pine Advent wreath in the Chapel in the

cellar with candles which may or may not have been extinguished after our

prayer service in the cellar.

We rushed down the cellar stairs to discover the wreath had burned down so far

the little table it rested upon was now on fire. No two people react alike during a

crisis. I have always been able to remain calm during the incident, and fall apart

later.

I directed Leila to exit the back way, to open the cellar door to the outside, and

I’d carry the flaming stool out. I went out the other door of the Chapel room,

expecting Leila to have gotten there ahead of me. When I came around the

corner, no Leila.

She was still back inside dazed and muttering what if phrases. There I

stood on ceremony with a flaming stool in hand yelling never mind what could

have happened, just open the door.

What could have been a disaster amounted to a singe mark on the rug and a

very smoke-stained wall and ceiling . After it was all over I shuddered as I did

my what if’s in that cellar, in that house.

*********

When I was about to purchase my new home after leaving the convent and was

being shown around by my realtor friend Tommie, I hadn’t noticed the lack of

room for storage. There didn’t appear to be a lot of closet space. I was actually

still in the closet as far as realizing I was gay.

I did know my cellar would be absolutely useless, as it took in a lot of water. My

Maine Coon cat loved it. He even liked walking around in the water if it wasn’t

too deep. He had his personal wading pool.

***********

The Pantry

It wasn’t too long after moving into my new home, I got a hankering for a nice

pantry. This was post convent and following the move from my first apartment

you’ve heard of.

One of my friends had a husband who was a carpenter. At the time he was

building a large barn but felt he could alternate hours on my project . After

talking with him, I realized I should go look for some wood for the construction

of my pantry.

I measured out the little porch that came off my kitchen. It would be perfect for

the base of my pantry giving it an already sturdy foundation. I was aware there

was a fellow who sold wood from buildings he deconstructed.

My next goal was to drive around our small city to see if surely he must be

taking some house down.

After seeking out every possible place he might be working, I found nothing.

Discouraged, I headed back toward my home. The universe was shining on me

after all.

The rock Mother sat on was a good place around which to play cars while Mother did the wash, ringing the clothes through and rinsing in the washtubs, one with bluing and the other clear.

Nike was upstairs preoccupied in the playroom. One time Mother had to run upstairs, leaving me with instructions to touch nothing. It wouldn’t take too much for readers to see this as the foreshadowing of a cautionary tale.

I was fascinated with my father’s white shirts as they passed through the wringer and disappeared. There were two rollers at the top of the machine pressing the water out of any clothes being washed.

I grabbed one of the long sleeves to guide it through as it tugged on my pull. My state of enthrallment morphed from pure pleasure to total terror. My arm was disappearing along with the sleeve. I was afraid, my arm would be flattened.

Mother was just coming down the stairs as I began to scream, so no real damage was done. I felt pretty special when I got to wear my arm in a sling Mother fashioned with a cloth diaper.

********

Those set tubs where washed clothes were blued and rinsed, were where Mother gave us our baths. Soaking side by side in the wash tubs, Nike and I, noticed some of our physical differences.

I wondered and asked our mother what it was that Nike had that I did not. Mother

***********

When we were little, we had two feral cats. One was called Barney and the other was TV, because he spent the majority of his cat naps staying warm on our large television cabinet. Both cats were usually good mousers.

You may remember I told you about how we could watch the scurrying river rats from our perch in the Box Elder tree we climbed. The two cats must have missed the very big river rat entering through the cellar door that made its way up the stairs, through an opened door to the dining room.

*********