YARROW, DOG HAIR AND NEIGHBORS

          Yarrow is a wonderful plant. I believe I had some yellow yarrow once upon a time, but what inhabits my yard now is this wonderful almost neon pink. It does have a tendency to lay over, but I have a grid with legs that I put in place and that seems to keep it upright. I actually needed to add another grid but never got around to it, so I’ll probably have some layovers unless the cosmos grows enough to hold it up.

          Right now, on Saturday morning, I’m taking a break from trying to get the dog hair out of the couch cushions. I use a cover that’s supposed to keep the hair off the cushions, but apparently, it’s not working very well. It’s that or I need to take the cover off and wash it more often than I have been. I’m using my vacuum hose with a brush attachment, but neither one seems to work very well.

          That’s why I’m at the computer. I decided I’d go online and see if anyone out there had a solution for my problem. The dog hairs look perfectly straight, but I swear they have a little hook at one end that refuses to give up its grip on the woven fabric. I also wish I’d thought of that when I ordered new cushions a couple of years ago. Do not get a couch or cushions with woven fabric if you have a dog…the dog hairs will get into the weave and do not want to come out.

          I’ve used one suggestion which is those lint rollers, but again, there are dog hairs that have a far stronger attraction for the weave than the sticky stuff…can you imagine that??? Another suggestion was to use a rubber glove and move your hand over the cushion. So, I’m off to give that a try. I do have rubber gloves since I wear them for almost everything…just never thought I’d use them dry on my couch.  

          Well, it works, sorta. If I keep the vacuum in one hand and use the other gloved hand, the hairs do come out better than any other method I’ve found. I still believe, however, that some of Karma’s hairs have little barbs on the end because judging by the color, they are hers. Unfortunately, it’s hard work and I had to stop with one cushion to go because my hands were sweaty inside the gloves and the rest of me was sweaty too. I think this method worked really well for the woman who posted the idea because she has Labs and their hair is longer…and I thought that black lab hair was so bad all the years we had them.

Jack Edgar, 1963

Reva Edgar, 1963

          While I was waiting for the couch cover to finish drying, I opened the little box of photos for the period 1945-1963 and found a photo of the man who was like a grandfather to me. Jack and his wife Reva lived next door to my family in Fremont. Reva’s sister Ruby lived with them as well. They all took an interest in the neighborhood kids and owned a little café that was around the corner and down the block. It was always fun to hang out on their front porch because their interest was genuine…a kid can always tell.

          One of the specialties of their café were these cinnamon rolls Ruby made. She used potato water from all the potatoes they cooked and when the rolls were done, they were about three inches tall and were very caramelly. Later on when I moved into my apartment, I would go by there every morning as I walked to my job which was just across the street from their cafe and get a cinnamon roll. Ruby gave me the recipe, but I never had a pan large enough and the only time I tried to make them, I ended up with about 100 smaller ones that weren’t the same at all.

When I turned 16, I wanted to learn to drive so badly, and Jack became my first instructor. He owned a Pontiac Bonneville which was a huge boat of a car. I felt very small, but also very brave driving it around with Jack in the shotgun seat. He never lost his temper or appeared nervous with me behind the wheel and I believe that helped a lot when it came to learning.

          When I graduated from high school, their gift to me was a Samsonite suitcase because I was going to become an airline stewardess when I turned 21. Even though that didn’t happen because I married John when I was 20, they remained in touch over the years.

          At one point, they sold the house next door as well as their little café and purchased a duplex in Ballard just off Eighth Avenue. Jack had had a stroke and about the only thing that was affected was his speech. He could still talk, but this wonderful man who spoke perfect English was reduced to spitting out swear words the majority of the time. Until then, I’d never heard him swear at all. It was so frustrating for him and for those of us who loved him.

          After he died, I remained in touch with Reva and Ruby and assisted them however I was able. I remember them coming to dinner at the little house I rented when John and I were separated. Reva was wearing a wonderful fur coat, so soft and elegant. The following Christmas she gifted it to me. I wore it for many years when it became very cold; and did you know the colder it becomes, the less heavy a fur coat is? It still hangs in my closet a bit worse for wear, but I always think if Reva and Jack when I see it there. 

R-L, Summer, Fall, Winter, Spring

          Ruby was an artist and made paintings using dyed egg shells. I purchased the Four Seasons from her at some point in time and it’s hung over my fireplace for the last 45-50 years. It was amazing what this woman could do with a piece of plywood, crushed egg shells and food coloring. She would draw the design on the plywood and then painstakingly glue the colored eggshells in place with tweezers and toothpicks. I also have two still lifes I inherited when Reva passed on and wish I’d bought the one she did of banyan trees with sun shining through the leaves. 

          One morning when AJ was about five, I got a phone call from Ruby.  Reva had died in her sleep and could I come. John and I got a babysitter for AJ (my parents I think) and went to Ballard. The mortuary hadn’t come for Reva yet and she was laying on her side in bed as though peacefully asleep. I was sad to have her leave us and decided I would help Ruby however I could.

          One thing John and I did not know was that Ruby had a serious drinking problem. Perhaps Jack and Reva kept her sober most of the time, plus when we did find out, it was clear she was very good at hiding the problem. Reva was taken away and almost immediately, Ruby began telling John and I to pack up every single thing in that side of the duplex and take it to Goodwill. We did our best to convince her to wait a while, but she was very insistent about needing to rent that side of the duplex as soon as possible. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in her life we could consult or talk to, so we returned for several days in a row to pack up Reva’s life.

          Reva had some wonderful things that still adorn my house. Each time I found something I thought was worth money or worth Ruby keeping, I’d seek her out and ask her about that item. Nope, was always her response…I want it all gone. This even included Reva’s wedding ring which I still have. Besides the furniture, the only stuff Reva kept were cleaning supplies, toilet paper and paper towels. All the rest was boxed up and lugged to our home.

          John’s mother took the majority of Reva’s clothing to disperse to other older women who were in need. She also took a lot of the kitchen pots and pans and other items for the same purpose. Reva had a lot of costume jewelry which I gave to John’s niece. I now wish I hadn’t been so quick to give it up because I’m now sure there was much of value there, but what did I know at the age of 30. The remainder of Reva’s household went into one of the two or three garage sales I held in the time I’ve lived here.

          It was probably the last day we were there or shortly after when we went to check on Ruby that these two women showed up. I now believe they were a couple, but in 1975, being gay wasn’t something you advertised. It was from them we learned about Ruby’s drinking problem. We were shocked and astonished and offered to return everything we’d boxed up and still had. They told us to not worry about that and proceeded to do what they could to stop Ruby’s drinking.

I tried to stay in touch with Ruby and those two women, but the three of them effectively shut me out. I would call and get no answer (no answering machines then). I’d go by and no one would come to the door. I’d leave notes and receive no response. Finally, I stopped and hoped Ruby would get in touch at some point. She never did. I don’t know what happened to her or those other two women.

I am thankful for the memories of have of Jack, Reva and Ruby. They added a lot to both my child and young adulthood. I treasure the three eggshell mosaics Ruby made as well as Reva’s fur coat, wedding ring and a couple of other decorations that still remind me of all three. I did get to tell Jack I loved him, but Reva went so unexpectedly, that didn’t happen. And, as for Ruby, I’m sorry I never got to say goodbye.