BICYCLE ACCESSORIES CHILD - BICYCLE ACCESSORIES
Bicycle Accessories Child - Monster Energy Dirt Bike Graphics - Mountain Bike Part Reviews.
Bicycle Accessories Child
- (accessory) accessary: aiding and abetting in a crime; "he was charged with being accessory to the crime"
(accessory) clothing that is worn or carried, but not part of your main clothing
A thing that can be added to something else in order to make it more useful, versatile, or attractive
A small article or item of clothing carried or worn to complement a garment or outfit
Someone who gives assistance to the perpetrator of a crime, without directly committing it, sometimes without being present
(accessory) a supplementary component that improves capability
- A vehicle composed of two wheels held in a frame one behind the other, propelled by pedals and steered with handlebars attached to the front wheel
- a wheeled vehicle that has two wheels and is moved by foot pedals
- In graph theory, a pseudoforest is an undirected graphThe kind of undirected graph considered here is often called a multigraph or pseudograph, to distinguish it from a simple graph. in which every connected component has at most one cycle.
- ride a bicycle
- A young human being below the age of full physical development or below the legal age of majority
- An immature or irresponsible person
- a young person of either sex; "she writes books for children"; "they're just kids"; "`tiddler' is a British term for youngster"
- an immature childish person; "he remained a child in practical matters as long as he lived"; "stop being a baby!"
- A son or daughter of any age
- a human offspring (son or daughter) of any age; "they had three children"; "they were able to send their kids to college"
All That Remains
I never knew my mother's father. I remember seeing him once, when I was about five years old, when she took me to the nursing home to see him. No one seems to know much about him, and those that did didn't talk much. He was a lineman for the telephone company, fell off a pole and sustained a head injury. All I know is afterwards, the story went that he just wasn't the same.
My mother says all she knows is she came home from school one day and my Granny Bert told her he was gone and wasn't coming back, and not to ask any question. And aside from her mentioning his name on occasion, I, nor anyone else I know ever heard her talk about him.
My mother and Granny Bert lived with her mother, as there was plenty of room once the boys had moved out. Granny Bert had four brothers and one sister. The older brother and sister were gone by the time my mother was just a little girl, and the other brothers had moved out when they married. So they took in a lodger for extra money, as was the custom of the day.
Ben came to live with them, and never left. As a little boy I never thought anything of it. My great-grandmother, MeeMaw was still alive then, though increasingly invalid. By the time I was 11 she was gone as well, and it was just Granny Bert and Ben.
I stayed with them most weekends, going over on Friday night and staying till Sunday afternoon. In a real sense, they raised not only me, but my nephew and nieces as well. Ben had his own room and his own bathroom, and I never gave any thought to them being a couple really, though they always shared a kiss on the cheek when he came home from work. His stuff was in his room, so I assumed he always slept in there. I was in my twenties when my sister told me otherwise, and I was stunned.
Ben was a fanciful character, always called me Sodbuster and when he came through the door of the evening always said in a loud voice "doops" to let people know he was there. He made a good living working in the oil field service industry, and could easily have moved out years earlier. He knew how to use a dowsing wand, which he was happy to demonstrate, though no one that I know every dug a well where he said there was oil or water. He always wore khaki uniforms, and only bathed on the weekends, so there was always this smell about him. It wasn't a bad smell, just a mixture of sweat and tobacco juice, as he always chewed Skoal tobacco.
He worked the family farm as well, and after his parents were gone he inherited that. It was there I spent nearly every Sunday. It was there I learned to ride a minibike, learned to drive a tractor, and learned to drive a truck. He bought the big house on the hill up from where the farm lay, and was quite proud of that. He stocked it with antiques, though you could never say he had taste. He bought a seven foot tall wooden indian, and draped the tassles that go on bicycle handles over the tommyhawk. On weekends and in the summer, him and Granny Bert stayed out there, but that was near the end of the time I spent my weekends with them. When Elvis died he went to the auction and bought one of his Cadillacs, or so the story goes. For certain, he came back with a pink Cadillac, which I always had the idea he intended on giving to me as it had my initials and year of birth my on the license.
Once I accompanied him to work, and he introduced me as his grandson. It felt odd, but felt right as well. He took me along because we were going on a copperhead hunt, as I was afraid of snakes and he wanted to cure me of it. In the oilfield where he was working, you could see them lying in the sun, and with his rifle we could see them through the scope. I doubt I hit any, but he was proud all the same.
Eventually he grew old, his health worsened, and they no longer went out to the big house in the country. He bought another house in town, and him and Granny Bert moved in there. This time there was no question it was his house. Her old house was sold and then burned down. She was no longer the homeowner and him the renter. And they lived as husband and wife, as in fact they had for almost fifty years.
Eventually he decided to put the big house in the country up for auction, and asked my mother to handle it. She did, and I think we were all shocked at how little it and the antiques brought in. Blame it on a dying part of the country, and falling land prices. After that Ben grew quiet, and for a few years I don't recall him really ever speaking. Earlier he had been screwed in an oil deal, and with the loss of the big house he seemed to lose his pride as well.
Then one day it was as though someone turned on a tap as he said, and he couldn't quit talking. The problem was what came out of him was anger. He felt my mother had stolen from him at the auction, and he was demanding it back. He was demanding odd things, like a money belt he said was in the house with $30,000 cash in it. I was called in to try to talk to him, because by then Granny Bert was talking
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