MARCH 10, 2008 - MOMMY and ME – BLOG #004 – THE KNOCK ON THE WINDOW

It was the perfect set-up. Mommy’s new house had no basement, so she couldn’t put onions there. A little smaller, but she grew to really like It after some new window works and other small cosmetic modifications. I installed some new, what I call “hang onto” handles, which she said made the bathroom look “ugly.” But she of course grew to appreciate them later. The two yards connected and I installed fencing around the entire two properties. With much more grass to cut, l upgraded my powered garden tools, which included a 48 inch cut power mower. She overheard me state to a friend of mind that it was my new toy. Mommy took that statement literally and really thought that I was having “fun,” spending on average four and one half hours of cutting and grooming the lawns twice a week (three times in the mid summer months). “Fun,” well no! Don’t get me wrong, I loved grooming, as well as gardening (planting flowers). I find myself doing exactly like Daddy (my other hero) did . . . and that’s to finish up, go shower up and come back out with the water hose and just look at the job.

It never failed, Mommy would hear the mower and knock on her side living room window to get my attention. She probably knocks for a while and I wouldn’t hear her for the noise. But I made it a point to look up at the window when I was on that side of the house to see if she was knocking and waiving at me. Once out of about five times I look up, there she was in the window, smiling and waiving. Many times Mommy would join me outside to sit and enjoy the newly groomed lawn, sitting with the garden hose and watering one of the back yard flower beds.

It was just about anytime I was between the houses making noise with a power tool, working on a repair of project, Mommy would come and knock on the window and waive. Shoveling the snow in the driveway was another time. When she heard the scraping of the shovel, she would knock on that window and waive baring that big pretty smile. Again, I would catch her that one time of five times, when I’d glance up at that window. This winter, each time I’m in that drive, by habit I’d glance up at that window, expecting to see that smile. I keep forgetting that she won’t be there anymore. I still hear that KNOCK ON THE WINDOW.