... My Dad slept with his shoes on that night
You know I haven't told you all about my spring and summer in New Hampshire at our camp on Lake Winnisquam. There are some interesting small parts that I laugh about and I'm sure you will too.
Now my father loved golf and left his office in Boston early Friday afternoon for camp. He was going to cook dinner but it was a pot luck dinner with neighbors. We had a large picnic table, very large! I must have been seven or eight but I understood what the visit meant. He was going to grill lamb chops. The neighbors were bringing salads, desserts, iced tea and coffee, and whatever else they wished to bring. We were a bunch of puritans.
Anyway, it was the fly season. We had an invention hanging off a branch in a tree that was invented by a friend of my grandfather, a bank president no less, who loved to play ping pong and was always trying to beat my grandfather. The stuff in the big bowl attracted the flies but it killed them, so we were not bothered by them. We didn't look at the bowl as we faced the other way and we were not bothered with flies.
The picnic table and grilling stoves were all cleared and cleaned up by 8:30. My Dad took a shower, shaved and put on his golf clothes, knickers, shirt, stockings and went to bed - he had his shoes on too.
Next thing I knew some one was blowing a bugle and it sounded like reveille.
It was my Dad blowing the bugle and he got my brother Eddy out of bed and gave him the flag. He told him to go down to the shore and pull it up the flagpole. Eddy was about five years old.
Well, Dad fixed breafast and off the three golfers went. They wanted to be the first to tee off. We all went back to bed until about 8:30.
Mother said it was difficult sleeping with someone with shoes on.
October 7, 2005