1-22-2011, Saturday

Grandpa came by this afternoon to drop off a wet, steam, vacuum-cleaning thingummy that he bought on sale somewhere and then decided he would never figure out how it works. We have a few things like that he bought, probably on mega sale from an infomercial. Like a lot of people who grew up during the depression, he loves to buy something expensive for dirt cheap.

He pulled up as we were planting the strawberries he gave us along the side of the driveway. Perfect timing in more that one way. First, Mom was glad because now he could consult on how close together she should plant them. And second, because he could see that we were excited about the strawberries, and that we really did want them. Proof we weren’t just being polite. It’s nice when you see someone using and enjoying a gift you gave them. I think Grandpa is that way more than anyone. Beats the simple thank you card any time. Not that the thank you card isn’t the first thing you should always do. Especially with grandpas.

My grandpa, as you may or not know, it a plant pathologist, and strawberries are kind of his specialty, which is why we were getting strawberry plants from him in the first place. He’s semi retired now. He still has an office at the university, and he still goes in there to look at things and email his plant buddies around the world. Occasionally he still travels to conferences or to check out the crops. I think the biggest difference between retirement and non-retirement is that nowadays he would have to pay for his own travel. He doesn’t travel near as much as he used to.

He took me to his office once, and around the campus. He knows who all the buildings were named after, and what they did, and where they were from. In fact, that’s something my grandpa seems to know about everyone. Owners of giant corporations, founders of cities and states, criminals and government leaders, all categorized by where they were from, and what they started out doing. He can also do this with most any produce, and a vast assortment of other foods you might find in your grocery store. He knows where they are growing in which season, and he probably knows who owns the land. “My buddy,” he’ll tell you. That’s what he calls most of them. He has a great many friends. In part because he talks to everyone, everywhere. Traveling in Germany, walking through the supermarket, on the street, absolutely everywhere.

So he told Mom that the strawberries probably wanted a little more room than she was giving them. Not that she should take those out and start over, but that when we did the next patch maybe we’d better give more space. He told us he had bee n slaving away all the past week planting his roses along his driveway. He says he is getting old to be a gardener, and that roses are vicious plants and he has wounds all over from planting them. We asked him to dinner on Monday, but he said he can’t possibly come. We’ll ask again later, sometimes that changes.