A footnote to yesterday’s note on phenology, which is a kind of recurring chronology: Grandmother was the undisputed authority on the chronology of our family.
Grandfather would be telling a story about Cousin Bob, who made a great success of himself, and he would pause to ask Grandmother: What year was it Cousin Bob moved away to the big city?
Grandmother would begin a calculation. Cousin Bob’s mother, Thelma, married George in 1928, and Bob was born three years later, which would be 1931. Bob was too young to serve in the war. But the Army got his older brother, Ralph, who fought in the Philippines and Okinawa and who didn’t come home until 1946. Cousin Bob left two years later to go to college. So he left in 1948.
Grandfather would consider these facts, nod, and continue his story.
Sometimes Grandmother’s calculations would go on for 10 minutes.
As a boy, it seemed to me that the digression was an outrage against the narrative flow of the story.
As a codger, I’m fascinated.
This was long before the days of computers and immediate access to information. Grandmother had fixed points in the calendar in her memory. She could calculate from there.
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