French's grandfather, Smitty, got snowed in last weekend. A shear pin broke on his snow blower. We pulled it out and the three of us changed the oil, replaced the pin and the spark plug as well. Smitty fired it up and plowed out his double wide driveway while we shovelled his frontlane and porch.
Afterwards he brewed us up some strong coffee with a solid dash of Canadian rye. Smitty started talking about his 10 year plan: new perennials, staining his deck, new roof on his shed, and some new outdoor lighting for starters. Smitty also wanted to "get back over to Dublin at some point". He had a Lonely Planet: Ireland travel guide on his kitchen table.
Smitty, more or less, shooed us out after our coffee was done. He said: "Thanks lads. I'm off to bowling. Gonna beat that goddamned Scotty Macfarlane today".
I asked French how old Smitty was. French said "bout 96...give or take".
9 comments:
Smitty sounds like a force of nature--perennial plans included! What a joy ti must be to spend time with such a soul, learning where he finds his energy and determination.
96 and with a 10-year plan! Now THAT'S a wonderful story.
That is the way to live ones life...to the full. Great tale!
Fine story, Ollie. My golfing friend wrote in his Christmas card. We had moved away so we didn't play anymore together; he had been to Maryland to represent Houston in the Senior Golf playoffs.
His card had a note about and winning 3rd place. He added. "I still shoot my age, 96. And I still don't use my driver but rather use my three wood to tee off. Like you tought me." He died the following Spring.
96 is a good age if you make it, my dad lived to 97, the Internet says I'll live to 100.
Check yours.
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Great story! A character worth celebrating. I could feel his vim and vigour through your words, his gusto for life.
Smitty is #seniorgoals. Good for him!
Smitty is an inspiration to me. Love his energy and zest for life. Thanks for writing about him.
Smitty sounds like my dad. He died at 91, but he got the sidewalk clear of snow the day before.
The ornery ones seem to live forever, don't they. I hope to have that energy and vitality at 76 or 86, let alone 96. Thanks for a wonderful reflection of your friend because it sparked memories of a couple I know that sound just like him.
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