Gwain noticed two things as he pulled into the driveway in the rented car.
First of all, he saw that their personal car had been delivered while he was at work.
The other thing that he noticed was that Jana was on the front porch drinking iced tea with Diane and a young man of about 15. Gwain’s suspicion that the young man was Diane’s son was confirmed as he walked up to join them.
Frankly, Gwain was gassed. He did not like conflict but had learned over his decades of teaching that avoiding it only worked some of the times. When it didn’t work, it made the conflict much, much worse. So, Gwain had learned to be good at conflict, even though he disliked it. Secretly, he wondered if one of the reasons he disliked conflict was because there was a possibility that he might start enjoying it and seeking it if he because too good at it.
That was not the kind of person he wanted to become.
“Mr. Gwain, this is my son Michael. He is here to see what you want done with your yard” Diane told him.
“Hello, Mr Gwain. I ain’t been walkin’ around this yard since Mr Beals died. He use ta own this house” Michael said.
“Well, then. I suppose we best take a tour. I really haven’t looked over closely, either” Gwain admitted.
With the sounds of Jana and Diane serenely chatting on the porch, Gwain was under no time pressure and could take the time to really SEE the yard.
The first thing he noticed was that there were small signs stuck into the ground at the base of each of the three trees in his front yard.
First of all, he saw that their personal car had been delivered while he was at work.
The other thing that he noticed was that Jana was on the front porch drinking iced tea with Diane and a young man of about 15. Gwain’s suspicion that the young man was Diane’s son was confirmed as he walked up to join them.
Frankly, Gwain was gassed. He did not like conflict but had learned over his decades of teaching that avoiding it only worked some of the times. When it didn’t work, it made the conflict much, much worse. So, Gwain had learned to be good at conflict, even though he disliked it. Secretly, he wondered if one of the reasons he disliked conflict was because there was a possibility that he might start enjoying it and seeking it if he because too good at it.
That was not the kind of person he wanted to become.
“Mr. Gwain, this is my son Michael. He is here to see what you want done with your yard” Diane told him.
“Hello, Mr Gwain. I ain’t been walkin’ around this yard since Mr Beals died. He use ta own this house” Michael said.
“Well, then. I suppose we best take a tour. I really haven’t looked over closely, either” Gwain admitted.
With the sounds of Jana and Diane serenely chatting on the porch, Gwain was under no time pressure and could take the time to really SEE the yard.
The first thing he noticed was that there were small signs stuck into the ground at the base of each of the three trees in his front yard.
 |
| Three pecan trees in front of the bungalow. Image taken from "LeFleur", Texas. The trees are planted in a line 20 feet west of the house. |
“What is a “Caddo” tree?” Gwain asked Michael.
“That’s a kind of pecan” Michael told him.
“And a Shoshoni?” Gwain asked.
“That’s another kind of pecan” Michael said.
“Hmmm!” Gwain said. “Caddo, Shoshoni, Caddo. Those almost sound like Native-American Tribes. Somebody really liked Caddo pecans*” he mused.
“We all do” Diane volunteered from the porch.
Gwain looked back at the porch, eye-brows arching an unasked question.
“Lots a people have Caddo trees and Mr Beals was real generous about letting neighbors pick his pecans” Diane said.
Then she hastily added “But we ain’t picked nothin' from his yard after he went into the old-folks home. We didn’t have permission.”
Gwain made a snap decision, “We will continue whatever agreement Mr Beals had with you.”
Really, the trees were too big to cut down and he imagined the shade would be appreciated in the summer. Bending over to pick up nuts, or paying somebody to do it wasn’t anything that appealed to him.
Gwain and Michael worked their way around the perimeter fence with Gwain reading the fussily precise, engraved plaques planted near the base of almost every bush.
Gwain had to ask “What are Rabbiteye Blueberries” and “What are Mayhaws” and so on. It only took a bit to realize that nearly every overgrown bush or tree produced some kind of fruit, from Alma figs to Zizi Jujubes. How could he have not known that Jujubes were some kind of fruit? He thought it was just a random name given to a kind of candy.
“How many of these have you tasted the fruit from?” Gwain asked Michael as he gestured grandly toward the sweep of hedges lining the yard.
“Pretty much all of them” Michael admitted.
“What did you think of them” Gwain wanted to know.
“Some ain’t worth eatin’ right off the bush” Michael said. “But my mom can make cobbler outta anything and I can eat that all-day-long.”
“Do you think you can make these bushes look a little bit more civilized and still have them produce fruit?” Gwain adjusted his plan on-the-fly.
“Don’t know why not. They were not this wild-lookin’ when Mr Beals lived here. I suppose I could make them look like I remember them” Michael said. Michael was inordinately pleased that Gwain was talking to him like a fully-grown adult and giving what he said serious consideration.
“Why don’t we make that our plan for the time being” Gwain said. “I want you to make sure to pick up all the branches because Miss Jana’s balance isn’t that good. And I want you to prune out everything with thorns near the grass at least as high up as Miss Jana is tall.”
“I can do that” Michael said.
“That’s a kind of pecan” Michael told him.
“And a Shoshoni?” Gwain asked.
“That’s another kind of pecan” Michael said.
“Hmmm!” Gwain said. “Caddo, Shoshoni, Caddo. Those almost sound like Native-American Tribes. Somebody really liked Caddo pecans*” he mused.
“We all do” Diane volunteered from the porch.
Gwain looked back at the porch, eye-brows arching an unasked question.
“Lots a people have Caddo trees and Mr Beals was real generous about letting neighbors pick his pecans” Diane said.
Then she hastily added “But we ain’t picked nothin' from his yard after he went into the old-folks home. We didn’t have permission.”
Gwain made a snap decision, “We will continue whatever agreement Mr Beals had with you.”
Really, the trees were too big to cut down and he imagined the shade would be appreciated in the summer. Bending over to pick up nuts, or paying somebody to do it wasn’t anything that appealed to him.
Gwain and Michael worked their way around the perimeter fence with Gwain reading the fussily precise, engraved plaques planted near the base of almost every bush.
Gwain had to ask “What are Rabbiteye Blueberries” and “What are Mayhaws” and so on. It only took a bit to realize that nearly every overgrown bush or tree produced some kind of fruit, from Alma figs to Zizi Jujubes. How could he have not known that Jujubes were some kind of fruit? He thought it was just a random name given to a kind of candy.
“How many of these have you tasted the fruit from?” Gwain asked Michael as he gestured grandly toward the sweep of hedges lining the yard.
“Pretty much all of them” Michael admitted.
“What did you think of them” Gwain wanted to know.
“Some ain’t worth eatin’ right off the bush” Michael said. “But my mom can make cobbler outta anything and I can eat that all-day-long.”
“Do you think you can make these bushes look a little bit more civilized and still have them produce fruit?” Gwain adjusted his plan on-the-fly.
“Don’t know why not. They were not this wild-lookin’ when Mr Beals lived here. I suppose I could make them look like I remember them” Michael said. Michael was inordinately pleased that Gwain was talking to him like a fully-grown adult and giving what he said serious consideration.
“Why don’t we make that our plan for the time being” Gwain said. “I want you to make sure to pick up all the branches because Miss Jana’s balance isn’t that good. And I want you to prune out everything with thorns near the grass at least as high up as Miss Jana is tall.”
“I can do that” Michael said.
***
After Michael and Diane left, Jana told Gwain “They don’t have a car. Most of their food comes from the dollar-store.”
“That’s amazing” Gwain said. “Apparently this property is like the Garden of Eden and they were leaving the fruit and nuts for the squirrels, raccoons and possums because they couldn’t get a hold of Mr Beals to get his permission to harvest it.”
“You know, it would be a great help to them if you picked up their groceries in town. The prices really aren’t that bad at the dollar-store but the selection is terrible. Diane has high blood-pressure and everything has too much salt” Jana shared.
“That shouldn’t be too much trouble. I can do it at the same time I buy our groceries” Gwain said, agreeably.
The last thing Gwain did before turning-in for the night was to send Violet an email asking if she knew of anybody who lived a little bit east of Paris. He explained that he had to turn in a rental car and would need a ride home tomorrow.
* Fifty years ago, Caddo and Shoshoni were the latest-and-greatest pecan varieties available in general commerce. They are both still acceptable varieties. Both are notable for high yields with Caddo being a steady producer year-to-year and Shoshoni having on-years and off-years.
If you were planting pecans today you have more choices with higher disease resistance and more attention to kernel quality and appearance.
Kindness and respect both ways are the essence of a "good neighbor". That they had honor not to "poach" from a dead man's fruit forest is awesome.
ReplyDeletePaper shell pecan varieties are nice to grow
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