In those long ago days just after World War II when I was growing up in
rural Vermont ,
the local folks did not drive to the supermarket whenever they needed something
to eat or cook. The Great Depression was still present in everyone’s mind and
the suffering and lack that all endured was not forgotten. Driving to town was
a treat. So everyone welcomed the green grocer with his weekly visits to rural
homes and farms. We all depended upon what fruits and vegetables he found to
buy on his visits to Albany ’s
warehouses.
The green grocer was a nice fellow, always happy to help farmers and
their wives climb into the back of his truck to view his weekly selections and
buy whatever they needed and their budget afforded. What he didn't expect was
our cat Tippy, and her way of inspecting anything new. That’s just what the
green grocer’s truck was to her as she was generally out mousing in nearby
fields when his truck rambled up our driveway each week.
From where she was sitting sleepily on the old well outside our front
door, Tippy saw a little field mouse scamper across the floor of the green
grocer’s truck. And that woke Miss Tippy out of her cat dreams. She ran to the
truck and jumped up into its rear section where all the week's fruits and
vegetables were arranged in careful rows in bins attached to the truck’s side.
No way was that little field mouse going to escape our Tippy's grasp.
She chased it around the bins and
into a far corner and then she heard the truck’s engine start up as the green
grocer backed out of our driveway. There was no time to jump off the back of
the truck! Tippy was going for a ride.
She hid in a far corner as the Draffins and then the Rudds boarded the
truck and made their selections. Then the green grocer pulled into the Hulett's
back yard and Aunt Nellie Hulett came out to greet the green grocer. She had
her wicker shopping basket over her arm. Aunt Nellie was prepared to buy
broccoli and lemons and as she held a lemon up for a closer look, she spotted
Tippy hiding beneath a nearby bin. “Isn’t that Don Norris’ Tippy?” she asked
the green grocer.
He smiled as Aunt Nellie bought a bag filled with broccoli and lemons
after reaching out for Tippy, whom she scooped up and placed in her wicker shopping
basket. Aunt Nellie smiled and Tippy smiled wider. After a call to my father,
Don Norris, Tippy was on her way back home to our house, settled in the wicker
shopping basket that would be her bed for the remainder of her long life as our
cat. Funny, but from that time on, whenever the green grocer’s truck came
rambling down our driveway, Tippy stayed in her basket on our back porch. She
never ventured near that truck again.
Alice DiNizo was raised in Vermont in those golden years just after World War II ended. She grew up in Arlington , Vermont where Norman Rockwell lived at that time with his family. She swam with her friends in the Battenkill River which flowed under the covered bridge that faced his home. Moving to New Jersey over forty years ago was an interesting experience for Alice, who writes under her cat’s name, J.B. But tough old girl that she is, she’s learned to love her adopted state and enjoys writing stories about it. She also reaches into her memory and writes stories about her family and childhood experiences. She lives at the New Jersey shore with her husband, dog and cats and contributes on a regular basis to GeezerGuysandGals.com.
4 comments:
Cute story, Alice! We had a cat one time who rode all the way to the next town on the axle of our car. My sis & I were waiting in the car for our parents to do some shopping and heard a "me-ow." Sure enough, there was Sudsie crouched under the car looking totally bewildered!
I was fascinated by this evocation of life in the US after WWII in what was then a "remote" region and by the image of the green grocer visiting farmers in his truck. Amazing how times have changed in a single generation!
Thanks for sharing such lovely memories, Alice, and congrats on a very well written piece!
LOL I enjoyed this story a lot. A cat I had while growing up in the 50s and 60s used to like sleeping on the trunk of Dad's car - the warm sun, making it a nice toasty place to snooze. Once day my parents came out and got in the car, never looking at the trunk. As my dad started driving down the street, my mother looked over her shoulder and shouted, "Roger, stop the car!" She about scared Dad half to death, but he stopped. There was the cat walking around on top of the trunk, probably wondering "What in the world is going on and where am I going?" He got a ride back home inside the car.
Love animal stories! (adore them actually: lol) We've had plenty cats and most of them are smart as all get out, but they're snobs too. :) We had one mother cat (when we lived in "the big house" in town who insisted on going down the hill, crossing the state road and on into a place that held what I call "junk" (it wasn't). When her kittens followed her, she'd pause and look both ways before leading them across the road. None of them were ever hit. Smart momma.
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