Mud

Sally May was at home in northeast Oregon.

Some one knocked at the door to her cottage and she opened it.

There stood a tall skinny guy with his hat literally in his hand. She knew him a bit, but not too much.

“Sally May, I am here to court ya.”

“If you were the only man in the world and if I wanted a man I would not marry you.” She closed the door.

But he came back with the same really bad line: “Sally May I am here to court ya.”

She rebuffed him again, but this time not with quite so much gusto.

But he persevered, and he did court her and he did win her heart and they married and were married until he died 30 or so years later.

He had been a plastering contractor, during a time when that was a very lucrative business.. I have no idea why he was where Sally May could know him, but he was. His name was Chet, but every one called him “Mud.” Plaster and mortar "mud" was his business.

When the plastering business went south, Mud and his partner (his son) did stone masonry. They did very nice work.

But he had some baggage too.

His son was his partner, and lived next door. The son provided a home for his mother, so for all of these years Sally May, my Mother May, lived next door to her husband’s x wife.

Mud took good care of all of his family. At one point he told Mother May that if he had married her early on, he would be wealthy. Mother May was pretty good at handling a depression era budget. I only know by inference that his past experiences were not all good.

He was part Native American, probably a good size part. If there was a meeting or some kind of gathering, he was likely to be found in the back, with his back to the wall, watching and gazing out over the group.

Our whole family loved him. He was a pretty decent yarn spinner, a believer in all sorts of conspiracies that were entertaining at the minimum.

More about Mud later.