MRS. COPPER'S 100TH

                   Mrs. Copper, our upstairs sitting room, June 17, 2023, back from her new home for our final celebration together on her 97th.  One daughter taught ESL for several years in I believe Dubai, and the necklace spells her name in Arabic.  

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.   He DID work nights---a long career at the daily newspaper, and they had their dinner before 5 p.m. so Dad could eat one meal with the girls.  

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 or outside 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 had mentioned several times that during WWII she and her mother had a little pear tree in the backyard, and that was the only sweet they would have some years, and she longed for just one strawberry.  She rose at 5:30 every day of her life, and so we made it a BREAKFAST party, and we'd meet and celebrate in the early June sunshine.

This one is ca. 2012, and most of the goodies were delivered at dawn by Leah, coming home from  the Bakery she managed for twenty years.   The donut holes and raspberry filled holes, and the neat round ball of Irish soda bread with its delightful crisp sugar coating to crunch between your teeth---those were her contributions, fresh from her oven, and she selected and brought the three cheeses on the bread plate.    See the little red candle in the top of the snowballs?   That's the birthday candle in Hannelore's favorite treat.

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 buying this house back in 1997.   

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!  And 93 more.