Pigeon Relocation

Mom is having the old pigeon coop torn down. It is sitting in a pile of rubble in the back yard, so I guess it is already torn down...now it will just be removed. It was falling apart when we moved into the house back in 1975. When we moved there our neighborhood was considered nearly rural Pennsylvania exactly half-way between the capitol city of Harrisburg and the chocolate paradise of Hershey. Farmland, rolling hills, streams, creaks and freshwater ponds were my playground. I embraced this natural wilderness and became an inspired expert explorer.

We didn't get any pigeons with the house, only the coop. The back yard had three levels built into the hillside with stairs descending down to each level. The first level was a pretty normal suburban sized lawn just off the back porch. The second level housed the pigeon coop and had enough room for two tennis courts end to end. The third level was a huge overgrown garden and the descending hillside was a beautifully landscaped rock garden with many, many plants. Today it is "wild" but mom added a huge swing-set, like at a community playground. Solid and sturdy. Now she swings pushing herself with her cane.

If we were the gardening type of people, this would have been an awesome yard. But we'd moved to PA from the inner city of Decatur Illinois, soybean capitol of the world. The elementary school I'd gone to was 90% African-American. Coming from this urban setting, I was fascinated with nature but had no idea what to do with it. Take the bus downtown...that was something I could figure out at 10...plant a tree? Forget about it!

Anne, Lisa and I were discussing our mother and her latest shenanigans and now the old pigeon coop will finally be torn down. Part of mother's inspiration to get the house in order was my offer to take care of her estate when she died. Lisa took care of Dad's affairs when he died and it is only fair that someone else take care of mother.

Here's the plan I proposed to mom. She dies, I notify the family. We move forward with her burial plans. After the wake I go to the gas station, pick up 1 gallon of gas and 1 box of matches. I take one last walk through the house cleansing it with the gasoline and set it all ablaze as I say farewell to Harrisburg PA.

She decided that Lisa would be the executor of the will...not that there'll be anything to inherit. My offer still stands, so Lisa...if you don't want the responsibility, I'll take care of everything. I've tucked $5 US Dollars away in a special envelope just in case.

So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda