In the Fall of 1963, our Mom received a call from her Father and stepmother, Nellie, inviting us all to their home in Vermont for Thanksgiving. Mom was overjoyed as she hadn’t seen them in over a year and had been especially missing her dad. My sister Penny was thirteen that year and I was sixteen. Neither one of us were too happy about having to go to Vermont. Penny had always wanted a horse and now that she had one she didn’t want to leave him. I had a boyfriend and I wanted to spend time with him. Our brother Dave was ten and he didn’t care one way or another about going anywhere. Our little sister Barb was seven and she was all excited about going; she loved traveling from a very early age. Grampa Spud, who lived next door to us, assured Penny he would take good care of her horse while she was gone and would put him in his barn with the cows and Mike the sheep. Several days before Thanksgiving we headed to Underhill, Vermont.
When we arrived, Grandpa had dad park in the garage in case it snowed. As the four of us kids tumbled out of the car, Grandpa’s arms were open wide and there was a big smile on his face. When he saw mom, his face lit up as he folded her into his arms. Penny and I stole a glance at one another, both of us now very aware of how much this meant to both Mom and Grandpa. Nellie came out to greet us as well and between all of us we were able to get our luggage into the house. Nellie had an upstairs room for Penny and I with a bathroom nearby, a downstairs room off the living room for Mom and Dad and a small room near them for David and Barb. The house wasn’t too big or small, just cozy with picturesque views from each lovely window.
The mood was jovial as we sat around the supper table listening to the adults. All four of us were quiet, taking in the conversation while eating some of the tenderest chicken we ever had. Mom was telling us that when she was growing up, Grandpa was a clock maker and when she and her sister, our Aunt Phyllis, went to bed at night, the sound of the clocks lulled them to sleep. I could tell from the looks my siblings gave me they didn’t want clocks lulling them to sleep.
When I woke the next morning, I wanted to be the first one in the shower near the room Penny and I were sleeping in. At our house there was only one bathroom and shower and it seemed I was always last and sometimes didn’t get a shower at all. So, before Penny or brother Dave could occupy the room, I grabbed my clothes and locked myself in the bathroom. The next thing I heard was a whole lot of yelling coming from downstairs. Then it sounded like dad yelling up the stairs. I ignored it all so I could get into the shower before anyone else. The yelling didn’t stop but neither did I. I jumped in the shower, lathered my hair with shampoo and turned on the water. I screamed! It was freezing; there was no hot water! The next thing I heard was laughing. I started laughing at myself. What else could I do but step into that freezing cold water to get the shampoo out of my hair and that’s what I did. It’s not like they didn’t try to warn me; the next time I hear yelling, I’ll pay attention.
Everyone was in the kitchen when I came downstairs. I was well-teased about the shower while I helped myself to some breakfast. At seven years old, Barb was already bored and asked if we were going to do something fun. Grandpa smiled and asked her what she’d like to do. Barb asked him if he had a mountain in his town. He smiled and said he did and he’d take whoever wanted to see it when he went to the store for Gramma Nellie. Mom spoke up, suggesting we all help clean up the kitchen and we’ll all go. We made short work of it and piled into their station wagon.
There was enough room in the car for Barb and Dave to sit in the front seat with Grandpa and Dad while Mom, Nellie, Penny and I sat in the back seat. Vermont is a beautiful State and in 1963, Underhill was a sparsely populated rural community. When we got to a place where there was an excellent view of Mt. Mansfield, Barb was so excited she wanted to get out of the car; we all followed. We were in awe of it where our grandparents and parents had seen it many times before we were born; mom, dad and grandpa being avid skiers when they were younger. Barb pointed to it saying, “Look, it goes all the way up to heaven!” We all chuckled a bit at that but from where we were standing, it did look like that. Grandpa told us it was the highest summit within the State, the peak elevation being four thousand, three hundred and ninety-three feet. We piled back into the car and went to the market to get the food we’d need for the next few days and for Thanksgiving.
That afternoon after lunch, Mom, Nellie and us girls helped with baking pies, breads and other desserts. Nellie put a big tray of chocolate chip cookies on the table to keep us away from the other desserts, especially the men who kept coming back into the kitchen. Nellie and mom made a beef stew and set it on the stove to simmer for supper. Grandpa, Dad, and Dave came back into the kitchen and asked if anyone would like to go for a walk with them before sunset. We all headed for the coat rack. We followed our parents and grandparents through the Vermont woods that I thought were as beautiful as our woods back home. The sun shone through the trees and I enjoyed listening to the four adults talking and having a good time. When the sun got low in the sky it lit up the woods in the most beautiful colors. As we turned around to go back to the house, I heard mom and grandpa talking about his new hobby. I got curious enough to ask him if he still made clocks. He smiled and said when he had made enough money he didn’t have to make anymore clocks, he was able to retire and enjoy hobbies like oil painting. I asked him what his new hobby was and he said he would show me when we got back to the house.
When supper was over and dishes were done, Grandpa announced he made a promise, as he smiled at me, and asked if everyone would follow him. At the very back of the house he opened a door and turned on the lights that revealed a good-sized room with a big picture window that looked out onto the spacious backyard. In front of us was an oversized wooden desk with deep drawers on either side, a long workbench that was built into the desk and a big long shelf across the top of the desk that contained beautifully sculptured birds of all kinds including herons and cranes. He announced that this was his new hobby. Nellie stood behind him, smiling. We were all in awe and so impressed with his flawless and beautiful work, words of praise came out of us all. Nellie also told us that a woman who is the editor of a local paper asked if she could come to interview him and she brought a photographer with her who took pictures of Grandpa and the birds, all in color, that were in the paper. We were all so proud and very happy for Grandpa.
The next morning Mom and Nellie were up early to get the turkey stuffed and in the oven. We had a wonderful Thanksgiving with them and Mom and Grandpa stayed in touch more often and we got together with them yearly, sometimes in summer instead of fall.
Both Harold (Grandpa) and Nellie Austin were creative people. Nellie made doll furniture out of Quaker Oats containers, couches and chairs for our dolls when we were growing up and covered them in pretty material. When we were grown with kids of our own, she made us Santa and Mrs. Claus standing figurines using dish soap containers as the Ivory liquid bottles back in the 50’s had a better shape. She filled them with something that gave them weight and made Santa and Mrs. Santa outfits for them. If I learned nothing else, I learned more about both sets of grandparents by spending time with them and getting to know them better; a precious gift I’m totally thankful for.