THE OBSERVATIONS OF DON ANDREW IN THE ABSENSE OF GRANDPA SANCHO
Can you imagine how this ancient knight’s squire misses getting to see all his grand kids? Grandma Sancha shares those feelings. It’s really tough really living in west Texas—not Where the West Begins nor The Key City of West Texas, but really in west Texas 250-450 miles west of those cities that brag so much. And, there is 225 miles of Texas west of us. Figure that one out.
Stories help us a lot. Grandpa Sancho hears quite a few Don Andrew stories. His family is so fortunate to have Bluebonnets in their yard. This old Texan recently told Don Andrew the Bluebonnet was Texas’ state flower and we could not cut them. You live in Texas, Andrew. No Grandpa, I live in Granbury. But Andrew. . .Grandpa, I. . .live. . .in. . .Granbury. Okay!
One day the family went for a walk. Don Andrew was heard to say. Look at the pink bonnets. Look at the yellow bonnets.
Recently Don Andrew must have had a sore throat and he couldn’t whistle anymore. Doña Duchess was reading our young knight his nightly story when the little fellow puckered up and said, Mommy, do you think someone stole my whistle? A few days later this old sharecropper was talking to his daughter. He told the duchess to ask Don Andrew to whistle for grandpa. He replied, No Grandpa, I’ve already done that.
Yesterday Don Andrew ran into that day care holding facility which is for kids who aren’t old enough to attend elementary schools or institutions of higher learning. He approached his teacher with one of his very deep and challenging questions, What makes a tree stand up straight? They all had to go out and dig up a small tree just to see. Doña Duchess said, Guess what we have in our backpack today? A tree root.
Don Andrew told his old Grandpa the other day, Grandpa, we are going to have go get us some real suits and real swords and go fight some real windmills. Do you suppose he is attempting to humor his ancient squire? There is no end to the contemplations of the mind of a four year old boy. The sky is the limit.
Stories help us a lot. Grandpa Sancho hears quite a few Don Andrew stories. His family is so fortunate to have Bluebonnets in their yard. This old Texan recently told Don Andrew the Bluebonnet was Texas’ state flower and we could not cut them. You live in Texas, Andrew. No Grandpa, I live in Granbury. But Andrew. . .Grandpa, I. . .live. . .in. . .Granbury. Okay!
One day the family went for a walk. Don Andrew was heard to say. Look at the pink bonnets. Look at the yellow bonnets.
Recently Don Andrew must have had a sore throat and he couldn’t whistle anymore. Doña Duchess was reading our young knight his nightly story when the little fellow puckered up and said, Mommy, do you think someone stole my whistle? A few days later this old sharecropper was talking to his daughter. He told the duchess to ask Don Andrew to whistle for grandpa. He replied, No Grandpa, I’ve already done that.
Yesterday Don Andrew ran into that day care holding facility which is for kids who aren’t old enough to attend elementary schools or institutions of higher learning. He approached his teacher with one of his very deep and challenging questions, What makes a tree stand up straight? They all had to go out and dig up a small tree just to see. Doña Duchess said, Guess what we have in our backpack today? A tree root.
Don Andrew told his old Grandpa the other day, Grandpa, we are going to have go get us some real suits and real swords and go fight some real windmills. Do you suppose he is attempting to humor his ancient squire? There is no end to the contemplations of the mind of a four year old boy. The sky is the limit.
posted by Harold Durham at
7:45 PM
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