COLD GUSTY WIND EVOKES SCARY MEMORY
By OLIVENE GODFREY
Son Barry drove us to Chatsworth for an early lunch this past Sunday. It was a beautiful fall day and we enjoyed looking at the colored leaves along the sides of the roads. The colors aren't at their peak yet but are still gorgeous. We had a craving for Kentucky Fried Chicken which isn't on my diet but is so "finger licken'good". We ate from the buffet at our excellent
KFC place. ( I just heard on TV that KFC is going to take the trans fat out of their chicken. I hope it will still taste good.)
Last week, before we had several heavy frosts, Barry moved the patio plants we wanted to keep into the garage and also the huge Ficus or weeping fig tree into the house. Before he could bring the tree inside, it had to be pruned as it grows so huge during the summers when it is on the patio. It is in front of a window now and gets the morning sun and we hope it will thrive during the winter.
Last weekend, the time changed from Day Light Saving Tine to Standard Time and the change always upsets my internal clock.
I don't care what kind of time we have but I would like for it to stay the same year round.
I've told you before that our house is located in the wind tunnel that comes down from our mountain and we often have strong, gusty winds. On a recent, cold windy day, Barry reminded me of the windy day when I literally had to muster up from somewhere the strength to save our house from possibly burning down and physically harming myself.
My late husband, Ralph, decided a few years after we moved into our house to use a wood stove for heat that winter. I told him that I had "been there, done that" during my childhood and our early married years and wanted no part of it, that I was happy with central heat. But, he won the argument and installed the heater in front of the fireplace in the den. One cold winter day I was alone here and was in the den when a really strong gust of wind came down the wind tunnel and blew the two stove pipes apart, sending smoke into the room. Instinctively, I rushed to the adjoining kitchen and grabbed two large pot lifters and ran to the stove and somehow managed to get the pipes back together. I called Ralph and he hurried home and fitted the pipes together with screws which he admitted he should have done sooner. Before the winter was over, Ralph grew weary
of chopping wood and tending the stove so we went back to central heat the next winter.
See you next time.