While sitting on the throne on Christmas, I looked to my right and realized that the house DID have decorations up.
These towels have been hanging there for no telling how long. I know they’ve been there since Mother died in 2015. It just never dawned on me until today that they were seasonal.
Obviously, I don’t use them.
I started to crop out the lacy thing on the right, but decided to leave it for historical accuracy, and as a sample of earlier customs. It’s a loop that was designed to hold extra rolls of toilet paper.
I don’t use it, either, but I’ve left it up for sentimental reasons. Any of the Steinhoff Clan who would like to claim it can speak up. I’ll even pay the postage.
Being as how it would have been Mother’s 99th Birthday Season, it’s appropriate that I dig out these photos Fred Lynch took one day in 2014 when he was driving by the house.
Leaving no leaf unturned
She could get the hurricane-force wind under a pile of leaves, make them look like waves in the air, and send them all the way down the hill in no time.
I always said I could do better with a wide rake, but I couldn’t keep up with her.
Drastic Measures needed
After nearly falling when a leaf-hidden walnut rolled out from under me, and having one of nature’s Legos in the form of a black walnut sans hull leave me limping, I decided drastic measures were needed.
I was either going to have to display a sign like this and abandon the back yard for the duration, or I was going to have to corral the green (and black) monsters.
Plan B didn’t work
I tried my big rake first, but it couldn’t deal with both leaves AND walnuts. That’s when I reached into the closet for Mother’s leaf blower. It would move the leaves, but it didn’t have enough oomph to roll the walnuts (or I was skill deficient).
Plan C was the blow away the leaves so I could see the walnuts. Once the surface detritus was gone, I could use the rake to herd the nuts to the edge of the yard.
That allowed me to create safe passage to the bird bath and bird feeders on Sunday night.
Unfortunately, by Monday morning, another crop of nuts had fallen. Maybe the sign idea wasn’t that bad.
Troas (Bones) Joiner was the Joiner in Steinhoff, Kirkwood & Joiner Construction Co. that built roads and bridges all over the region. Bones and Lil, as we called her, had a son William who was about six years older than me.
He was Billy, which morphed into Bill, much like I tried to shed Kenny for Ken when I got older and left town. Because of our age difference, we didn’t hang out together much.
I don’t know where these photos were taken, but it must have been someplace special for us to dress up like this. I look like I’m about two or three.
Bill died October 9, 2020
William “Bill” Troas Joiner, 79, of Cape Girardeau passed away Friday, Oct. 9, 2020, at Heartland Care and Rehab.
He was born May 27, 1941, to Troas and Lillian Sharp Joiner.
He was a graduate of Southeast Missouri State University and owner of Solar Pools, Inc.
Bill was a member of Good Shepherd Lutheran Church. He was a sports car enthusiast, enjoyed watching Cardinals baseball and loved the barbecue from Pilot House.
He is survived by cousins, Larry Bonnell and Susan Hanvy.
I saw him at his son’s funeral
He was preceded in death by his parents and his son, William Troas Joiner II.
Visitation will be from 10 to 11 a.m. Wednesday at Good Shepherd Lutheran Church.
Funeral will follow at 11 a.m. Wednesday at the church, with Pastor Weston Wildauer officiating. Burial will follow at Cape County Memorial Park Cemetery.
A very special “thank you” to Heartland Care and Rehab and Crown Hospice for the loving and compassionate care that was given to Bill.
Memorial contributions may be given to Crown Hospice.
Ford and Sons Funeral Home is in charge of arrangements.
We took my first plane ride together
I did a blog post in 2014 about a seaplane ride on the Lake of the Ozarks, probably around 1952. That’s Bones, Dad, me, and Billy (he hadn’t become Bill yet). By this time, he had adopted his signature buzz cut hairstyle. Dad was sporting the hairstyle that I would follow not too many years in the future.
My Florida absentee ballot went into the mail Tuesday from Cape Girardeau, Mo.
Several years ago, I complained that we Palm Beach county absentee voters didn’t get nifty stickers to show we had voted, so I went to the election HQ in Cape and got one of their stickers, which I modified in Photoshop to show my split personality.
I’m not really proficient at shooting selfies, as I’ve noted before. Something I should keep in mind for these low-level shots is to shave my whiskers and trim my nose hairs.
I owe the election supervisor an apology
After I complained about the lack of a sticker, someone pointed out to me that there WAS a sticker in the packet. The round, push-out thing just wasn’t obvious to a dummkopf like me.
Dummkopfs is a word that is common in populations with a large percentage of folks of German heritage. As I recall, Dad used it often, even though he couldn’t speak the language.
So, thank you Wendy Sartory Link, Palm Beach county elections supervisor, for making us absentee folks feel loved.
Now that my ballot is winging its way to be counted, I guess I can officially tune out of the madness of the 2020 Election.