We owe thanks to an unknown kind person who has removed the snow from our driveway.
I didn't know whether to run a public notice of thank you or wait for the bill until the other night.
The tractor-snow plow operator was wearing one of those wild looking face masks revealing only the eyes and mouth. The family had done some shoveling earlier and with the help of the strong wind, the driveway wasn't blocked that night as usually has been the case.
Anyway, I had just finished shoveling and had taken off my heavy clothing and boots when the family heard a noise in the driveway.
It was the mystery man and the tractor.
It was too dark to see clearly and the ski mask hid the rest of the identity. By the time I chased around for my boots and hat and coat, he buzzed out of the driveway and down the street.
So we still don't know who our friend is, but we're sure enjoying the mystery.
All I know is that he was wearing heavy winter clothing, the ski mask and operating a Ford Ferguson tractor.
Thank you, whoever you are.
Central Avenue won't be the same.
The sale of Pat's Party Shop by Mrs. Roland Heimerdinger to Roger McCreary of Otoe Paint and Wallpaper company ends many years of retail business on Central by the Heimerdinger family.
Mrs. Heimerdinger and her late husband, "Rollie," operated Rollie's Hobby and Toy Shop at 703 Central Avenue for many years. They purchased what has been Pat's Party Shop from the Racine family. Mrs. John (Pat) Wehling, a daughter, managed the Party Shop.
The Heimerdingers worked many years and built a successful business in the hobby and party shops.
We particularly enjoyed visiting with the late "Rollie" on many occasions. He always bubbled with excitement of his sales and buying merchandise. He was a good businessman.
Times have changed and we'll miss Mrs. Heimerdinger and her daughter, Pat. "We worked hard to get that store, but now I'm glad to get out and relax," Mrs. Heimerdinger said.
Best wishes to you, retail friends. We'll miss you on Central Avenue.
To tell the truth.
"Ivan," Mrs. Herman "Addie" Brandorff said, "I sure enjoy reading about your family happenings in your columns."
"Aw gosh, Addie, you don't want to know about my family. Tell me some juicy stories of what went on when you taught at Southside school."
"No, really, I'm serious (you can always tell when a school marm is serious — she frowns). Tell us more."
Okay, Addie, just for you . . .
"Hey dad, I need a necktie for school Friday," No. 1 son said.
"Millie! What's going on?"
"Now Ivan, calm down. The basketball boys at Junior High voted to wear ties to school when they have games."
"A necktie?" the master and king of the house saith. "Blue jeans, cutoffs, 'holey' tennies, sweat shirts and stocking caps — yes, but neckties?"
I can remember well the elite, high ranking feeling of the seventh grader. After all, Junior High is ah Junior High a young man is feeling growing pains.
"Mom, can I wear my green pants and that green plaid shirt?"
(Notice how the poor youngster never asks the real master the proper color combinations?)
"Yes, honey, that will look nice. And go into your father's room and look over his neckties."
"Hey, what's this stuff about the rinky-dinky guy with the big feet going through my ties?" the master said.
"Don't put up a fuss, Ivan. Help him pick out a tie to go with his green outfit. He's so proud of those green trousers."
(Aha! Did you notice that the decision on the tie was left up to the king?)
"Say there ole' boy, come in the king's room and let's see if we can't whip up a jewel to choke you up for the rest of the day."
It didn't take long to make the selection. I just happened to have a special tie for a special boy wearing his special green outfit — yellow.
"I was in the eighth grade in Washington, Kans., when I first wore this tie," the boss explained to the young man.
"It's hand-painted and was given to me by the mother of my best friend."
"What'd you save it so long for?"
"I dunno, son. Guess I'm just too sentimental. Besides, it's a wide tie which is the real style now."
I thought I had the guy all fixed up. I had the engine running in the truck warming it before going to work, so I started to leave.
"Hey, dad. Will you show me how to tie a Windsor knot?"
The only way I can tie a knot in a necktie is by looking into the mirror. In this case it meant standing behind No. 1 son looking into the mirror and getting the job done. (If he keeps growing so fast, by this time next year I'll have to stand on a box.)
And away he went, banging chairs, doors and clumping down the street.
"Ivan, that was very nice. You handled it like a father should."
"Thanks, mother. After all I am the greatest."
"Ummmmm and did you notice how nice he looked?"
"Yeah, he was kinda sharp. Oh, I forgot to look at the color of his socks."
"Green," the other half said.
"Not THAT green pair. Not that wild, bright-bright green pair he bought at the Widewalk Bazaar!"
"Yes. And he's just as proud as can be. He said they looked good with your yellow tie."