Monday, March 08, 2004
Mabel and Galusha -- I mean, the people -- come into sharper focus now that I've heard some stories. The Native, my neighbor two doors down who's lived in Beaumont all her life, says Mabel was the sweetest woman you could ever hope to know. I was happy to hear that, because if she'd been the neighborhood witch I could never name a house for her.
And then there's Galusha. The Pirate, and I mean that in the best way possible: the rollicking way he talked, his swashbuckling gait even on land, and the wide eye-popping smile, who sold me the house ... he says Galusha was the first TIG welder in the state of Oregon and he amused himself with all kinds of wacky household projects. I asked about the holes and the cement pad outside near the back door, and the Pirate said they were for a swing set Galusha built that was taller than the house and probably visible from Scappoose.
The house has some strange elements, too, not including locks on the attic door, to keep the teenage daughter from taking off for escapades. But she had the last laugh, lowering herself out the south window into the wild night. The rope's still there.
And then there's Galusha. The Pirate, and I mean that in the best way possible: the rollicking way he talked, his swashbuckling gait even on land, and the wide eye-popping smile, who sold me the house ... he says Galusha was the first TIG welder in the state of Oregon and he amused himself with all kinds of wacky household projects. I asked about the holes and the cement pad outside near the back door, and the Pirate said they were for a swing set Galusha built that was taller than the house and probably visible from Scappoose.
The house has some strange elements, too, not including locks on the attic door, to keep the teenage daughter from taking off for escapades. But she had the last laugh, lowering herself out the south window into the wild night. The rope's still there.
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