MRS. COPPER'S 100TH

Today would be the Hundredth birthday of my dearest friend and neighbor, a sweet and humble lady born in Germany and married to a handsome young G.I. in the late Forties.   She came to a strange land, raised four wonderful, successful daughters, and lived a simple life of home and family.   Our small houses in this 1959 subdivision are little Ranches, both with a big finished basement---ours with two bedrooms, a BIG party/dining/TV room, another kitchen, and bath.

Hers was divided into dormitory-type rooms, with SIX twin beds, for his two daughters lived with them part of the time.   Eventually they took in his Mother, then brought hers over from Germany for her last years.    I cannot fathom the mornings in that little house, with six off to school, and the three older ladies settling in for the day.   That kind, gentle man lived with NINE females for about five years there, and all sorts of numbers from time to time.   

And Mrs. Copper---so named because our first Granddaughter called her after their magnificent Chocolate Lab, Copper---the noblest, most companionable dog I've ever met.   Mrs. Copper worked with a "survey company," driving all over the city and county to stores and banks and corporations to stand in the door with a clipboard, asking folks to rate the business, or what ice cream flavors, or clothes colors, or which insurance.   

Way back in the 00s, I longed to have a LAWN TEA---named this blog for that kind of event---I planned a party every year, jotting tablecloths and punchbowls and all sorts of trivial bits, and something would always hinder, always delay.   So twenty years ago, I gave Mrs. Copper a Strawberry Breakfast on our patio for her 80th birthday,  with just the house of us.  She rose at 5:30 every day of her life, and we'd meet and celebrate in the early June sunshine.

That went on, every June, and after she moved away two years ago, she came for one last celebration with us.   I MISS my friend, my over-the-fence pal, our history-teller and sweet confidante.   She, the eighty-foot hackberry tree and the second kitchen were what decided us on this house.   

And NOW---fate and prayers and CENTURY 21 have brought me a new little companion, a quicksilver little sprite turning SEVEN tomorrow, so I've just Amazoned a tiny sun-dress, some unspillable glitter nail polish, a set of Unicorn Academy books, and some strawberry-strewn paper plates, for our celebration at eight on Sunday morning.   Time goes on, and brings the loveliest things down that long stream of friendship.

Happy Birthday, Hannelore!   Happy Birthday, Rebekah!