The Excellent Way #10
As they walked into the house…
the mouth-watering aroma of ham captured the senses of boys who had not eaten since breakfast now four hours earlier. It was difficult to tell which boy was the hungriest. Grandma didn’t try. She began giving orders. Her first one went to Weston.
“Please get out silverware for the six of us Weston and six glasses and plates. Noah, would you put ice in the glasses and fill them with water? Boone, please take out the ham. You know how to carve a ham…please get started. Oh, and give Noah, Weston and Sarah a piece to taste test.”
Maybe it doesn’t seem important to you.
It mattered to grandpa. After a dinner of ham and scalloped potatoes grandpa needed a nap. Perhaps the biggest reason was fatigue from two consecutive days of fishing. Perhaps it was the extra fresh air. But after dinner grandpa sat down for a visit with grandma. They started on the subject of their garden. Grandpa didn’t remember if they talked about other things. He fell asleep. Grandma graciously understood. She let him sleep. As she left the room, she whispered…
“Sweet dreams you dear old tired husband.”
Grandpa never heard a word.
He was out. And there was no one to discuss the possibility of fishing with him. Boone, Noah, Weston and Sarah, filled with new energy from the delicious ham dinner made up rules for a whiffle ball game with four players. Their rules didn’t follow regulations. But, they were fair, and challenging. The game lasted almost two hours. Since grandpa’s afternoon naps never lasted more than a half hour, he was up to watch most of the game. He and grandma found a place in the shade of one of the backyard ash trees. They cheered-for both teams. They had favorites alright: Boone, Weston, Noah and Sarah. Teams didn’t matter to them…grandchildren did.
Sports minded Noah was in his element. Boone, the fishing is good anytime guy, was a good sport. He played hard. He and Weston kept the game close in spite of Noah’s skill as a hitter. Noah kept Sarah interested. He gave her tips, and cheered when she was successful at hitting or catching. It was plain to grandpa and grandma that Noah kept Sarah motivated to play. She clearly was enjoying herself. As grandpa thought about the fishing contest at Hard Rock Lake and the great success Noah had-with Boone’s equipment, he decided that Boone and Weston played a bit harder. They wanted to win. Two hours later everyone agreed that the game should be over. They had played nine innings. The score was 4-3 in Boone and Weston’s favor. Grandpa looked at grandma and said…
“Did you hear them argue? Was there ever an unkind word spoken?”
Grandma watched the four grandkids patting one another on the back. She heard the words, “Good game! That was fun!” She turned to grandpa and said…
“Not once. And you know what I think? We’ve just seen “Excellent!”
Grandpa picked up his wife’s hand, gave it a pat and softly spoke these words…
“Honey, you are absolutely right! “Excellent” it was!”
By this time, the four ball players had picked up all of the equipment and put it in grandma’s storage bin in the garage. They all headed into the house for the refrigerator and the cold-water pitcher. Weston poured. He said aloud…
“The pitcher doesn’t hold enough for all four of us to have full glasses. Everyone gets half a glass.”
He filled glasses. Then he went into the freezer for ice cubes from the bowl of ice grandma kept in the freezer for such occasions. He plopped two ice cubes in every glass.
“Now, everyone, fill your glasses from the faucet!”
Grandpa and grandma had followed the four inside. They sat down at the kitchen table and watched the grand kids taking care of the thirst that playing ball had made. Grandpa began to consider how soon the question of fishing would be brought into the conversation. He was certain it would be soon. He wasn’t wrong. He was sure he knew who would bring up the subject-Boone. He was right.
“Grandpa, do you have ONE more fishing trip left in you?
If you think it would be okay, fishing this evening seems like a really good idea. It’s not windy, but there is a breeze, and it’s not hot. Being on the water will be very comfortable.” Boone took a breath. It was a long speech for him. Grandpa smiled. He couldn’t say no to a request like that.
“Boone, I think you are right. It would be a fine evening to go fishing. I even have a lake in mind…Hanker.”
Grandpa watched Boone’s face. It held a look of surprise, a moment later, grandpa changed his mind to unbelief. Boone wasn’t the least bit convinced. He said so.
“Hanker Lake? Grandpa, you are teasing me, right? Hanker is a hillbilly word. It means to yearn for or to want. Are we going to Yearn Lake or Want Lake?”
“Boone, I’m serious…it’s called Hanker Lake.
You’ll see when you get there how beautiful it is. It’s larger than Rock Lake, and deeper. Oh, Boone, there are big fish in it.” Grandpa spoke softly. With a smile grandpa added, “after you see it you may have a “want” to fish it again. You know Boone…“hanker.”