January 4, 2020 – Cricket on the hearth & Surprise!
Changing out my fireplace mantel display from Christmas to Valentine’s I lifted and dusted the black metal cricket and set it back for good luck.
It
made me smile, again, one of those items that Mom sent in a house- warming
package. I didn’t have a clue what it
was all about, except that her handwritten note, tied to it with a ribbon,
told me that a cricket in the home would ensure prosperity and health.
This
is a ritual with me now as I dust the cricket every time I change out the
mantel display. But, this time I paused
a little longer, because I had recently seen good luck crickets in many of the
home decorating catalogs. Has the fad
come around again? Has the fad never
gone away? Are we all very superstitious
about having prosperity and health?
I
had to think back which abode we were living in that required we have a cricket
on our hearth . . . our second apartment had a fireplace. It was an upscale apartment bordering a golf
course. Often we would hear “bonk” of
golf balls on the sliding glass windows that ran the full length of the living
room – second floor. For a one-bedroom
apartment it was upscale with a fireplace, a full length deck off the living room –
perfect for an outside room with a little table and chairs. There was a double closet at the entrance way
– a real place to put the vacuum cleaner and over coats. The bathroom had a double vanity, and the
best part was a huge walk in closet.
So,
when the lease period was at the end of the second year, every apartment renter
was offered a chance to “buy” the apartment as they were being switched into
condos. We had to bail out – we didn’t
have the buy in money. It was lovely
while it lasted and Mom and Dad got a chance to see it when they visited a week
in the 1980s.
Have
you ever been to a surprise party where you, the hostess, didn’t even know
there was a party being given at your home and you were one of the people being
celebrated?
Every
once in a while, my husband pulls off great things and this was one of those
instances. Of course, our apartment was “spit
shined” due to Mom and Dad flying into the Kansas City airport that day. My
birthday is the same day as my parent’s wedding anniversary and the next day
was that joint celebratory day.
Just
a few minutes before we left to get to the airport, my husband was on the
telephone. My husband often was in contact with the manufacturing plant by
phone as we lived a half-hour drive away from it.
“Who
was that,” I asked.
“Just
Bruce, they had a question at the plant,” was his answer. I didn’t think anything of it, as it was not
out of the ordinary.
We arrived
at the Kansas City airport. [Let me tell
you – beautiful airport with bronze statues and sleek modern look with a series
of three circular terminal buildings. I
am not certain what it looks like now – but back in the 1980s it was brand-new
and gorgeous.] Immediately we discovered
their flight was delayed. My husband
said, he needed to check into the plant again.
I
sat patiently while my husband strolled away to the pay phones and came back in
a few minutes. When the “delayed” light
changed to a time of arrival, he strolled away again to the pay phones and came
back. Again, nothing to alert me –
business was business and he was always in contact with the plant.
When
Mom and Dad finally arrived at the Gate, Dad explained the problem,
“We
were heading out of Boston out over the harbor into the sun and a few minutes
later we are not turning to go west. We
were out over the ocean and I see we are dropping fuel-”
Mom
picked up the story, “-mechanical difficulties and we landed back at the airport within minutes.
Then we had to wait for the replacement plane.”
As
we are leaving the Gate area to go to the baggage area, my husband excused
himself saying,,
“I’ll
meet you at the baggage area, I’ve got to phone the plant.”
All
three of us didn’t think anything of it.
We retrieved the luggage and soon my husband joined us and carried the
largest pieces to the car.
The
four of us chatted and caught up on life as we drove in from the airport. At our apartment door, my husband leaned near
the doorjamb of the apartment and took his sweet time unlocking it.
As
soon as the four of us entered the dark foyer, the apartment lights went on.
“SURPRISE!”
shouted a dozen or more people.
Bruce
stepped forward and welcomed my parents and said to my husband,
“I
thought you guys would never show up. I
made sure they didn’t get into the cake, we’ve drunk and eaten just about
everything else.”
I
was stunned; my parents were delighted and were even more surprised that I was
not savvy of the surprise party as I had not planned it.
All
those phone calls to Bruce was coordinating our new circle of friends to arrive at the
apartment for the surprise. Just think –
no cell phones back then. Bruce and
friends arrived at the apartment during the time we were supposed to be driving
back from the airport. My husband had to
telephone our own apartment and explain the situation to Bruce and all those
friends had to sit and wait, just like my husband and I had to sit and wait for
Mom and Dad’s delayed flight.
The
supermarket-decorated cake was on the coffee table. In frosting it read:
“Happy
Anniversary Mom & Dad” then a line drawn down the middle and “Happy
Birthday Teri.”
There
wasn’t a crumb left in a matter of minutes.
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