Part Two of the First Entry of the First Blog in Sauvageau History....YO!

Grandma and Grandpa Smith............................................................................yo
Arthur Bateman and Catherine Magdalene (McMusker). I remember them praying the rosary together. Talk about opposites~ the perfect match. Grandma would recite her part very quickly, even starting before Grandpa was finished with his. He was slow, methodical, calm, quiet, gentle, mild-mannered. Dark-skinned, especially in the summer season. I can smell his ripe, biting persperation, sweating in the hot sun; wearing thin white tank t-shirts. Grandpa liked the outdoors; gardening, mowing the lawn, watering hose in hand, tending the dry earth. There was a grand old green hammock hanging in their backyard in which I loved to rock. I'd hear grandma sream out the door in her high-pitched voice, "Art, your supper's getting cold!" Grandma was speed, Grandpa the speed-bump. He'd be tinkering with his myriad of tools in the garage; gadgets, unfinished projects, inventions in-the-works. He was a practical procrastinator. Detail-oriented, an electrician by trade. Brown skin with a large nose, where she Grandma, was white as snow, featuring a pug-nose. Really their features were quite a contrast. She had large blue eyes, yet mostly I saw her with eyeglasses on. She wore a heavy coat of "Bluegrass" perfume. I'd go into her dressing room which was next to the bathroom; I'd look in her drawers which held her jewelry, lingere (storkings, girdle). Grandma had a stocky stomach (of which I inherited), held in place with tight, constricting apparatus, and she would wear some sort of flowery dress. Her hair was white-grey, curly; packed/set in place with a large dosage of canned aerosol hair spray. I'd go with her to her friend's house (Darlene) where she would have her hair washed, curled, set. We then shopped at TOPS; never stops saving you more... which was located right down the street from Chester Avenue, where the homestead was. Grandma would buy ladyfinger cookies, shrotbread sandies, ice cream, beef. Beef was a staple food in the Smith household. I remember pressing the ground meat into patties with a round metal cut-out, wrapping them in plastic, putting them in the freezer. Another regular meal fav was chicken livers with onions. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm! Along with mashed potatoes. Those accompanied any meal. And corn. I can smell the aroma of their kitchen concoctions Grandpa had a crock pot in which he would cook navy beans mixed with brown sugar and bacon. They loved thier bacon, whether it was eaten with eggs and white toast, or in a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich (toasted bread). Food was doused with lots of butter and salt. Grandpa ate slowly, masticating every mouthful of food for what I imagine was a calm, smooth digestive process; whereas Grandma consumed her food with fervor, finished before Grandpa's plate was half-eaten. Sunday's dinner was roast beef. Grandma's gravy was tops. The best ever, to which she passed this fat-laden greasy delicious gloppy formula on to Mom (Grandma - Anne) for all to enjoy. Rutabaga, turnip or butternut squash was part of this meal. Another favorite I recall is the "boiled dinner": onions, carrots, potatoes, cabbage mixed in a pot with corned beef. Irish as they get! Grandpa would bake cornbread. Mmmmmmmm.
Grandma was bold, unafraid to speak her truth and opinions. She was conservative Roman Catholic Evangelical; close to the Blessed Mother, praying the rosary every single day. I remember as a young pre-teen riding up to the Pentacostal church on Grand Island for prayer meetings. It was a large congregation of holy rolling speaking-in-tongues born-again Christians. Denise and Cindy were in on this "gift", to which I suspected some folks of faking it. It's the sound of babbling in a foreign tongue that to me felt strange. Another time I'd gone to another evangelical crusade that was out of town. There was a speaker, David Wilkerson, who invited everyone who was ready and willing to give their lives to Jesus Christ to come forward to be prayed over. I readily accepted the call. I did feel the Holy Spirit's prompting me to move, heart beating fast. It was exciting. Grandma's faith was strong. She regularly would watch Pat Robertson on t.v. whom she admired greatly. Yes, church, Catholic Christian morals, home prayer meetings, she was involved. She read and wrote in her New American Bible, had scraps of paper and prayer cards in her lap. She bought crosses, religious articles, rosaries. She'd pray fervently for family and friends, especially those travelling. She sighed heavily with concern and worry over the sins of the people in the world. "We have so much to be thankful for." "It's going to get so much worse" (the future events of the world), she would SIGH. Grandma planted many seeds in me, one of which was the eventual study of therapeutic massage. Suffering from arthritis, she would encourage me to study massage therapy as I rubbed her knees, and back. Grandma had an infectious laugh. Because she was so quick and witty, you would latch on to her joy; perhaps more often than not she was mostly lamenting over someone else's suffering (sigh, sigh, SIGH).
Summer picnics in the back yard with the cousins ~ Smiths (Glen), Smiths (Alan) and Baney (Joan). Potato salad - lots of ham and onion; orange fluff cottage cheese jello mold, hot dogs and hamburgers. Kids galore. Fun! Riding in the car with Grandma driving was a constant push-pull (and seat belts were not yet mandatory as she'd speed way up only to step her foot on the brake in one constant motion the whole ride thru!) Whew! I felt like a rooster-gun-brake-gun-brake. St. Christipher was always protecting us.
The living room: comfy comfy rocking chair-cushioned; black and white blond t.v. No remotes yet~ manual-turn the knob kind. We'd watch the Patti Duke show, Mike Douglas and Ed Sullivan, Bonanza, Jacques Cousteau; good, clean shows. Kitchen towel rag dolls we made...
I hated going in the basement- it was full of spider cobwebs, sump pumpy poopy smell. A huge willow tree adorned the front yard, hanging out like a warm umbrella. Washing the slotted windows on the front porch (who invented such a stupid design?!) Napping on Grandpa and Grandma's bed was a dream- so dark and comfortable! The couch in their living room had a very large busy flowery printed cover. The wallpaper too was busy loud. Sundays at their house was special. Warm, inviting, cozy, sweet, homey. Love was always the feeling I got there. Grandpa would impart to us deep wise nuggets of truth with his strange wit that I didn't always understand/appreciate. He was gentle, humble, meek, and mild-mannered. Steady, plodding, slow, slow to anger. Always quietly moving with assurance, understanding, compassion, sacrifice and big big love. I am truly blessed by both of them.

~~~~~~ Our Roots are just as important as Our Flowers!!!!~~~~~~
May we cheirsh and honor our past, and continue to encourage and honor our future, daily!!!