“Remoted” – Day 448 (Monday)

Apparently, tall tales are some sort of a family tradition. I learned recently from relatives that Grandpa used to say that he rolled the ten-ton Boulder down from Rollstone Hill to the Upper Common and that his best friend was Paul Bunyan. One cousin got in trouble in third grade for repeating the tale that Grandma Olive came from Canada in a canoe via the Nashua River. Her mom received a phone call from the teacher about it. 

Peony opening.

At my house, dinner table conversations included occasional tales from Dad. In one, he was with George Washington crossing the Delaware River, but he’s not in the painting about it because he was out getting cigars. He was also with General George Custer at Custer’s Last Stand and escaped injury or death because he was out getting cigars. Dad was part of every major historical event – Paul Revere’s ride, the Civil War, you name it, and he was always spared injury or death thanks to his need for cigars. Never mind that the events took place long before his birth. He was there. He left to get cigars, he lived to tell the tale.

I thought the historical retellings were hysterical and would tell my friends at school and we wold all laugh at how funny my Dad was. My sister repeated these tales in kindergarten. At parent’s night, the teacher mentioned that S was telling wild stories. When Dad admitted to telling them, he got a scolding from the teacher. Oops, comedy needs a warning label. Maybe “results may vary,” or “past results are not an indication of future performance”?

In the yard, the peonies are beginning to perform with the opening of the first blossom. I hope in this case, this is an indication of future results with plentiful peonies, and nobody gets scolded for tall tales.