A Morning At The Ranch

This story is about a strong, courageous, mindful and caring woman. My grandmother and her "Ranch" on Route 9N in upstate New York; spending most of my day at her tennis court-sized pond, trying to catch the critters that live in it. For weeks, I would try to get them with my bare hands, but I was fruitless. One morning, I asked Gram if there was something I could use to make this easier. Drinking her Maxwell House coffee out of an espresso cup and smoking a Winston Red, she walked me through the back door, barefoot, onto the cold concrete floor of her rickety, archaic, and dusty porch. She handed me a freshly emptied coffee can. “Now don’t you bring those frogs and tadpoles into the house. Leave them in the pond, O.K.?” she griped. I glanced up with a smile and said “O.K. grandma, love you” “I love you” she replied. I dash off the steps, followed by her two German Shepherds, Lady and Chief. We headed for the pond to see what troubles I could get myself into. Of course, the dogs would not hang around me for long, once Papa sped up the driveway and into the woods on his four-wheeler, the dogs would be right on his tail, like a wolf pack running down their dinner.

After numerous attempts to try to intercept these tadpoles I, annoyingly, would watch the nickel-sized slippery, slimy creatures burrow themselves into the mud to get away every time I corral them into a corner. In the process of trying to fandangle these slimy creatures, my feet always managed to slip on the sludgy slope near the edge, causing my new Reebok sneakers to be drenched in the muddy, murky pond water. Amid playing in the pond, I glance up along the pond water and see a small school of goldfish swimming towards me. I look around and see the old bridge that is broken in several places that leads to the little island, “perfect”, I quickly, but cautiously step out onto the bridge, hearing the wood squeak and crack. I lied on my side with my wet soggy feet hanging off one end and arms off the other. I reach over grabbing my coffee can firmly with my small hands, I slowly lower my hands down as the goldfish continue to swim towards me, my hands and coffee-can enveloping into the murky water. The goldfish swim into the thick cloudy stirred up water, "Oh please, oh please, oh please...YES!" One of the goldfish swan right into my Maxwell House Coffee can, it was quarter-sized goldfish, "fat and cute" as I called it. I was exhilarated, as I stand up from being hunched over the bridge my grandmother’s voice echoes, “AMY!...AMY!...AMY!” “Yes, grandma!” “Breakfast is ready!” “Coming!” I had to decide whether to leave the goldfish in the pond or bring the slimy little bugger with me. She did say no frogs or tadpoles, however, she never said anything about no goldfish. I giggle in a shroud of excitement I hold my shoulders high, bringing the goldfish with me to show her what I caught. I was so proud of myself for catching this goldfish. I couldn’t run fast enough back to the house. I hear the sounds of Papa's four-wheeler as I approach the door to my grandmother's ranch.

As I carefully and cautiously move the coffee can around my waist to my backside, I open the door and smell the warm maple syrup taking a deep sniff inhaling the smells of the house, eggs, sniff, bacon, sniff, pancakes! “Amy come eat your breakfast is getting cold” “Grandma looks what I caught” I place the muddy slimy now green Maxwell House can on the counter. “Amy what did I say about bringing frogs and tadpoles into the house” “It’s not a frog or tadpole, it’s a goldfish” as I point to inside the can, “See”. A deep sigh glazes over my grandmother’s breath as she walks over glances down into the can, “Oh, you did catch a goldfish. All right, well just leave it there, go wash up and eat your breakfast”.

I walked into the bathroom, washed my hands without soup and headed back out to the kitchen. “All washed up Grandma”, grandma glances down inspecting my fingers, hands, and arms, “you know better young lady, now go back in the bathroom and wash your hands with soap this time”. I let out a similar sigh like my grandmother’s and blurt out, “dangit” without hesitation my grandmother yells out, “what did I just hear” “nothing gram” “I better not be hearing bad words come out of your mouth. I’ll wash that mouth out with soap” and she meant it. I walk back into the bathroom and wash up with soap, “you breakfast is going to be cold by the time you get out here” my grandmother hollers out. I finish washing up meet my grandmother’s gaze at the other side of the island showing her my hands and arms. She points to my plate and throws on a hot pancake to warm up the cold one. I turn around and sit down at her antique extended rectangular table with a tub of Country Crock Margarine and Mrs. Butter Worth’s Syrup.

I glance over and see my grandmother cooking herself something to eat while she smokes her cigarette. Not five minutes into eating, her phone rings. “Hello?... Oh, Hi” as she continues on with her conversation I inhale my breakfast like a hungry little munchkin. A sound of a horn beeps and grandmother’s voice finishing up her call “O.K. I hear you outside, bye”.

Grandma turns towards me as I take my plate to the sink, “your mother is here” “O.K. gram, I love you” I stretch my little toes towards my grandmother giving her a kiss on the cheek and a hug. “I love you too and don’t forget that little bird is watching you” I shake my head insisting that there is no such bird. Grandma laughs and helps me put my shoes on, opening the front door where two eager German Shepherds are waiting to get in. I greet Lady and Chief at the door and head for the car “Amy you forgot your goldfish”, grandma walks out carrying the Maxwell House can in her hands. Chief and Lady almost tripping her up “Lady! Chief! Good grief, move your butts out of the way” she sighs followed by her laugh as she hands me the can.

My mother glares over at Grandma and me “there are no goldfish going in this car”. This sad look of mayhem consumes me, “Can I go put them back then please?” Mother glances down at her watch “hurry up” I run out of the car with a little bit of the water spilling “oops, sorry!” I hurry out to the pond and return the goldfish to their home. As I head back to the car, I see gram and mother talking through the driverside window. My mother glaring at me as she finishes her conversation with gram, “hurry up Amy or we’re going to be late”. I finish the last few feet in a running sprint for the car. I climb in sitting in the many seats of my mother’s grey van, buckling up as she starts to back up out of the driveway and onto the road, leaving the “ranch” on 9N in Upstate, New York.