Idiosyncrasies

Idiosyncrasies ... my dad had a few, as I stated in a earlier post, then promptly chased a rabbit toward his years as a pastor.

I just thought my father was normal, but apparently, not everyone did. Not that they were ready to take him to Lakeland (the nearby-mental institution) or anything, just that he was a collector of wierd things. Another time, another topic -- his collections.

Dad had a routine, which wasn't necessarily wierd, but he stuck to that routine no matter what. In all the years I lived at home he NEVER took a vacation. For him a vacation was going to a Bible Conference and teaching, and, I supposed, because we couldn't afford to accompany him, it was a break from four rambunctious children.

Anyway, dad would get up and go through his morning ritual of shower/bath, shaving, leaving the bathroom in is underwear to get to his bedroom where he got dressed. The bathroom always smelled of Aqua Velva after shave and was steamy when he left it. There were times when I would be in pain waiting for him to get finished with his pre-dressing rituals because I had to go to the bathroom so badly. No matter what, it took him 1/2 hour to finish -- everyday, 365 days a year.

Once he dressed, in his three-piece suit with suspenders and tie, he would get himself some toast and coffee. He often made the coffee -- we had a drip coffee pot -- and he would put an egg and a pinch of salt in the water and this was supposed to make the coffee taste better.

After he ate this small breakfast, he'd go to the post office to get the mail. Runnemede did have a postman or two which delivered mail to your home, but dad preferred going to the post office, because, I suppose, he could get mail twice a day, rather than once. The mail was put into the boxes in the early morning then again in the late afternoon.

After he got the mail he would come home, go through the mail, then head over to the church. He had an office/library in the church and there he would study until lunch time.

At this time my memory gets fuzzy and I don't know whether it's because in the afternoons I was usually out either playing with a friend or at school, but I don't recall any afternoon activities.

Dinner was promptly at 6 p.m. We had to finish by 6:45 p.m. because that's when Lowell Thomas came on the radio and dad listened to that newscaster every evening. We had a drop-leaf table in the kitchen and he sat at one end of the table -- the end nearest the radio. To his right was Debbie, then mom, opposite dadwas Carl who sat on a stool, then around the bend opposite my mom was Mark, and I was next to my dad, on Mark's right, dad's left.

Oft times dad would stir his coffee and touch my hand with the hot spoon, as a tease. And then he would dip the spoon in the coffee and give me a sip. The touch with the spoon was so I would know that it was hot enough, but not too hot. Wierd?

After dinner dad and we children listened to the radio -- we heard The Lone Ranger, Superman, Amos and Andy, My Little Margie, A Date with Judy, Our Miss Brooks, or The Shadow depending on which day of the week it was. Then it was off to bed for us children.

In the morning, the whole routine would start again.