Past And Present

 

My father, or to be more accurate, the man who impregnated my mother with me, came from a rich family. Wealthy family. He was born into big bucks. You know what I mean. And my father was the only descendent of the two men who had all the money, his father, and his uncle, so one would have assumed that my old drunk daddy would have inherited a shit ton of money, or at least made his own working for the family law firm. He did manage to get through law school. But he was not the kind of guy that one would want to pass the family fortune down to and after my mother divorced him when I was five, I didn't even see him again until I was thirty and he was by then working on his own as an attorney, mostly defending young black kids who had been arrested for possession of weed, as he told us. He had a hole-in-the-wall office in downtown Chattanooga and was married to a woman named Emma who may have been a distant cousin of his. 
So it had been arranged that when he died, or my grandfather died, or when someone died, my bio-brother and I would get some inheritance  which we did but before we even turned eighteen, the man my stepfather had hired to be the manager of the money embezzled it all and lost it. Well, most of it. 
Easy come, easy go. 
We still got some, my brother and I. 

There is so much more to this story, of course, but that's the gist of it. 
But what I came here to talk about this evening was my Uncle Burkett. Burkett Miller. That man was not only an attorney at a very large money-producing family law business, he was an excellent business man and he made a fortune. I think that Coca Cola might have been involved. He also married a wealthy woman whom we called Aunt Bill. Aunt Bill and Uncle Burkett. 
I really think they tried to do their familial duty to brother and me. In a way. I remember that Uncle Burkett came to Roseland once to speak with my mother and if my memory serves, I swear she told me that he had put forth the idea that he and Aunt Bill would adopt my brother and raise him up to be another lawyer and continue in the family business and, oh I don't know, go to fancy schools and stuff. Learn to sail? Learn to wear his sweater tied over his shoulders? 
Who knows? Not me.
But, my mother said no, that was not happening. Can you imagine? It was basically an attempt to buy my brother in my opinion. Not me, of course, because I was a girl. 

When Burkett died, he left money to the city of Chattanooga to build a public park and when May and Michael were just up there this week, they visited the park and sent us pictures. I've been there myself but it was cool to see all that stuff again. 

Probably the coolest thing Burkett did was to found The Miller Center which I really only learned about as an adult. My brother has visited there, I have not. Here- give it a brief glance if you wish. 
I'm not sure exactly what I think about the Center. I don't know enough about it but it surely looks legit and definitely nothing like the Heritage Foundation. 

So I was strangely glad to get those pictures and muse about that whole part of my life and my genealogy and I'm sure it was cool for May to be able to visit the place that her great, great grand uncle built.  It's so odd how I hardly ever think about the Millers. In fact, when someone from my distant past calls me by my "maiden" name, which was Mary Miller, I almost feel as if I've been deadnamed although I probably shouldn't say that. But whoever Mary Miller was, I do not believe I am that same person now. 

Here we are at Friday again. I stayed home today and did a little weeding, a little laundry, all that Friday stuff. And, I finally finished my curtain project. Here's the one I made to cover the windows in the door of my bathroom leading out to the porch.

I think that looks just fine and a thousand times better than the filthy folded paper blind that was there. And as to the curtain I made a few days ago that I was so upset about? I have decided that it is okay the way it is. Good god, people. Nothing in my house is level or anywhere near perfect. Not even in the same country as perfect. I'm in the country of "It'll Do." I mean, anyone who hangs fish on the walls that came from the Dollar Store thirty years ago should not be worrying about one little ol' curtain. 
Is it colorful? Is it whimsical? Does it please me? Does it fulfill its purpose in my life? 
Yes? 
It'll do. 

Before I got to weeding today, I did a close perusal of the bean vines. This is what I found. 

It has begun! I am so excited. 

And, uh, let's see. 

A blue blueberry! 

Tomorrow, any of the kids that want to and are able to drive out to see the house that came with a dock are going to. I think for sure that Jessie and Vergil and the boys are coming out. Maybe Lily and her bebes. Hank and Rachel have former commitments but there will be plenty of chances for them to see it too. I haven't heard from May and Michael but they too will eventually get there. I know they're exhausted from their trip and for all I know, May might have had to work today. God, I hope not.  I want everyone's reactions, comments and suggestions, from the grown people to the grandchildren. 

It's thundering off to the south. We have been promised real rain and I surely hope we get it. The frogs are chanting an incantation to bring it on and the birds seem to be excited at the prospect, chirping and chittering while the cicadas hum in a rising and falling chorus of their own. My backyard is alive with prayers for rain. 
I am looking up and it is beautiful. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon