Cousin Kat was tight. We always took plenty of food when we went to visit, knowing how “conservative” she was. She thought three rolls, three scrambled eggs, a little jam and a dab of butter was plenty for any number of guests there might be for breakfast. “I just don’t think there’s any point in folks being hoggish,” was her favorite phrase as she set out a meal. She was a devout believer and had probably heard that story about Jesus feeding the multitudes on five loves and three fishes one too many times.
A few days before our last visit, someone had given Cousin Kat some fresh homemade sausage. She’d eaten a bit and saved some for us. That sounded fine till I opened her tiny 1940 model refrigerator to get some water. The rank smell of bad meat nearly knocked me down. “Ooh, Cousin Kat, I think something’s gone bad in here!”
“Oh, it’s not bad. It’s just that sausage Barney gave me. It’s real spicy!” She answered, totally unconcerned. “I’m gonna cook it up for supper.”
I made up my mind then and there to eat popcorn. I’ve never smelled a spice that mimicked the smell of rotting meat so closely. Mother and Phyllis both found other options. Count Kat cooked that sausage and ate up all by herself, since she was determined not to let it go to waste. It stunk the whole house up with its nauseating odor as it cooked. We all told her it smelled like it might have “gone to the bad.” She disagreed.
We planned a road trip for the four of us to go into Amish Country and packed a nice picnic …no sausage. Phyllis and Cousin Kat decided to take their showers the evening before so The four of us wouldn’t be competing in the morning. Cousin Kat told her how she could run a bit of water in the tub, sit on the edge, wash her face, ears, neck, then her body before washing the best parts and her feet. That way, she could get by with just a little of that expensive hot water. Well, I do believe I heard the shower running while Phyllis was in there, despite her lesson. Cousin Kat perked up her ears, too. When Phyllis came out, Cousin Kat said, “I hope you stopped up the tub and saved your water for me. Just one person don’t mess up bath water none.” Shamefaced, Phyllis had to admit she run it all down the drain. Cousin Kat gave her a look.
We went on to bed. I snore and talk in my sleep, so no one would bunk in with me. I am always early to bed, so I took the small bedroom. Cousin Kat gave Mother an inflatable mattress her son had left there to put on the living floor. Unfortunately, he had taken the pump home with him, so they sent a great deal of time trying to inflate it with a small hand-held hairdryer, the wrong tool for the job. Eventually, it approximated a mattress, though it flattened out the minute Mother reclined on it. They hadn’t bothered to pad the floor with quilts, so Mother was freezing the minute she lay down that frosty October evening. She got up, dragged her covers tote old-fashioned bi-fold sofa and tried to warmup. It was hard, lumpy, and had a couple of exposed springs but it was better than the icy floor.
Meanwhile, things weren’t going much better for Phyllis in the large, unheated upstairs bedroom. She’d chosen it because she liked to sleep in the cold. She’d dawdled and was the last to get to bed. I was quickly asleep though I kept up a listen for retching during the night, expecting Cousin Kat to come down with food poisoning, but the next thing I knew, Phyllis was climbing in the small creepy bed with me. “I thought you were too good to sleep with me.” I reminded her.
“I am, but when I got upstairs and switched on that dim overhead light, and everything looked fine, but when I turned back the quilts, rice scattered all over the place. I couldn’t imagine why rice would be on the bed, like that. I turned on that little flashlight Cousin Kat gave me and saw the bed and floor covered in mouse pellets. Mice were scattering everywhere. I can’t sleep up there with all those mice. She was mad! I was laughing so hard the springs were creeping. We sounded like honeymooners.
As I mentioned earlier, I don’t sleep well, I talk in my sleep. In truth, it’s much worse than that. I curse and hurl epithets, language I’d never use during waking hours. Once I drifted off, Phyllis and I rolled up in that ancient mattress like a couple of hotdogs in a bun. She swears I shoved her and screamed at her to “get the f…. Out of here. I don’t remember a thing about it!
In a huff, she got up in search of a place to sleep. Seeing that Mother had abandoned the perfectly good air mattress, she gave it a try. Of course, it put her right on the floor. Not to be defeated, she folded it in half and stretched out. That was a little better. Just as she drifted off, it gave up the ghost and blew out. Hearing all the racket, Mother and I got up to help. I invited her to share my bed, but she was mad and wouldn’t have any part of it. Mother offered to share the bi-fold sofa, but there was no way that would work. She ended up spendinding the rest of the night wrapped in a blanket trying to sleep in a not-so-easy chair.
We got up early to Have breakfast and get ready for our trip. At the kitchen table, We chatted over breakfast and sipped coffee. Mother and Phyllis lied about the extent of their miserable night. Phyllis had to come up with an excuse about abandoning the mousy attic. Cousin Kat polished off the last piece of the rancid sausage with her breakfast.
I got the first shower, keeping it short, since I remembered Cousin Kat’s lesson. It was pleasantly hot, but Mother said Cousin Kat ducked down to the basement to “get something” while I showered. Mother was next in line. When she got in, the water was nice and hot while she soaped up, but in just a minute, an icy blast hit her. Obviously, Cousin Kat’s basement errand was to cut off the water heater. The water came from a spring, so Mother’s hot shower was over. She had to wipe the soap off with a wet washcloth dipped in icy water.
She was furious when she shivered out of her shower, accusing me of using all the hot water.
“Mother, I wasn’t in there but a couple of minutes. I didn’t use that much!”
All the while, Cousin Kat sat humming contentedly, finally offering, “Oh well, that water heater’s old. I guess it just gave out.” Only the day before she’d told us that her son had just put in a new one, over her objections. “I can heat what water I need on the stove and save the heating bill.” She made no mention of turning off the water heater.
Finally, the cold, sleepy bunch was ready to start the trip.
To be continued
The woman is cheap to the point of being a hazard to herself and to others. Rotten sausages, cold floors, icy showers. I guess with some relatives its best to stay in an hotel. 😦
LikeLike
That was our last trip.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I imagine so. LOL! I can’t imagine how uncomfortable that must have been. I remember relatives coming to visit when I was a child but no one did any of these things. We knew they would be back every year so my parents and grand parents kinda planned for their arrival far in advance. If they didn’t come back the following year everyone got worried about them.
LikeLike
It was sad seeing her in such a decline. She had to go in a nursing home a few months later.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ohhh, I am sorry to hear that. I see, she was elderly person. Sometimes we have to excuse our elders sit in their ways.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, she was. We enjoyed so many good times until she was nearly ninety. She used to come spend winters with us and we visit her every summer. She was a lovely, quirky person. I still miss her terribly. I loved her.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, it sad to see them decline from the person we once knew. Some people as they advance in age they return to many child-like behaviors and relatives just have to excuse them or go behind their back and correct whatever they did. Ignore their fury with love and they will calm down. Yes, we love and miss them for they taught us so much.
LikeLiked by 1 person
And she was so unhappy.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A nursing home is never a pleasant experience. And as horrible as she sounds, I can’t help but feel sympathy for her with her terrible sausages and all. Some people are just naturally grumpy. When you have relative like that you take all your necessities you can load in your car with you. One set of my grandparents are southerns and I never the dead pig in the sun saying.
LikeLike
Ohhh!
LikeLiked by 1 person
LOL!! Great family love adventure. No one thought to bless that sausage…LOL!
LikeLike
Bet that was the problem!
LikeLike
It’s all love including the mice and sausage but just misinterpreted…LOL!
LikeLike
Egad! I’d have been out of there with the scattering mice. I slept in Grandpa’s old log cabin and I could hear rats in the attic, but nary a one in the house, which was spotless, visible signs would have been impossible!!! Sorry, cousin Kat Bye,bye!
I just saw an episode of Elementary yesterday where the murder weapon was rotten sausage made of human remains. Now strike two things off my eating list. chicken and sausage!
LikeLike
I’m pretty sure hers wasn’t human. No people were reported missing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I can’t imagine this will be a good trip, because surely the bad sausage will kick in sooner or later. Can’t wait.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You must be psychic! Make sure you read Part 2
LikeLike
Cousin Kat was the tiniest, fastest walking woman I ever met. I’m just glad I didn’t eat or spend the night though I would like to see that part of Viginia again.
LikeLike
She was wonderful to visit with. I loved going there. It just wasn’t the best place to shower or dine, unless you did your own cooking.
LikeLike
Oh how I love your stories…I’m looking forward to more laughing. I’m just sorry it’s at your expense!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, well, it wasn’t my first visit, but it was my last.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I read this while home alone, and I filled the house with laughter. Too bad no one was here to share your marvelous story.
LikeLiked by 1 person
More tomorrow. Glad you enjoyed. We didn’t.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m glad you don’t pretend you enjoyed that torture, but you were recording it in your mind to share with us. You can turn dross to gold!!!
LikeLike
I have enjoyed retelling it dozens of times, though. It’s sometimes funniest when the joke’s on you. Have you ever read any of my other stories about Aunt Kat? Maybe I should rerun them all.
LikeLike
No, Aunt Kat is new to me. Please rerun her stories. I NEED them!! You see, I’m a miser, and I must not let my tendencies get out of hand. I could be the next Aunt Kat if I’m not controlled.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are in for it now!
LikeLike
Good! I adore your stories. I’m sorry I didn’t follow you sooner and wish I had time to go back through your posts.
LikeLike
I will see what I can do. Have you read my two books?
LikeLike
Here is the sorry truth. I don’t read books. I used to, but then I used to have time. It’s all I can do to keep up with reading and writing blog posts while having company for weeks on end. I think we had one two-week period with no guests since June of last year. We have the grandsons here for their breaks, as well as lots of family and friends. Sometimes it feels like we run a full service hotel — room and three meals a day!
LikeLike
Sounds like more than a full-time job. Bet the cooking and clean up keep you going.
LikeLike
Yes, I keep going with the cooking. The cleaning? Not so much. I figure we have to eat to live, but my lack of cleaning has not killed anyone yet. I should advertise our accommodations as self-cleaning, shouldn’t I? The fine print will explain it isn’t like an oven.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am so glad for what you said about cleaning. It makes me like you even more! I clean once a week, but dread that. I could happily cook all day.
LikeLike
I clean before company comes. You are a much more worthy person than I am.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh no. I have a dog who sheds. It’s self-defense.
LikeLike
Ha! Ha! We’re the only ones who shed in our house.
LikeLike
I am not claiming we don’t shed.
LikeLiked by 1 person
More tomorrow!
LikeLiked by 2 people
LOL What an adventure.
LikeLike
I guess,
LikeLiked by 1 person
Such pain for a visit, no no no
LikeLike
I don’t know whats happening. If WP has tweaked the comments and you’ve got mine doubled up – sorry 😦
LikeLiked by 1 person
That there cousin Kat must be the meanest tight ass I’ve ever heard of. And not to be dead from eating rotting meat or the bubonic pague – she must have a cast iron stomach !!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Now that there cousin Kat is the meanest tight ass I have ever heard of. She must have a cast iron stomach not to be dead from food poisoning, let alone the bubonic plague from cohabiting with all those mice !
LikeLiked by 1 person
She didn’t do well that time. More tomorrow.
LikeLiked by 1 person
She didn’t like to reach in her pocket.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a miserable way to live !
LikeLiked by 1 person
She acted happy as a dead pig in sunshine.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Now there’s a saying I have never heard before!
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s a good old Southern one.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Fits well with the rotten sausage 🙂
LikeLike
I can’t forget that sausage.
LikeLike
I imagine the smell is indelibly burnt into your memory 😦
LikeLiked by 1 person
Cousin Kat is best left alone
LikeLiked by 1 person
Don’t visit without a care bag.
LikeLike
Lol, of course
LikeLike