It's now officially spring

Ah, spring is finally here. It wasn’t the flowering of my daffodils that signaled its return. It wasn’t the new buds on the poplars or arrival of robins at my bird feeders either. No, spring was announced by the return of Scary Jeanette.

My cousin Tom told me about Scary Jeanette (hereafter called SJ) when BC and I announced plans to buy the old Jenkins farm and build our house. He said that she lived on the place next to ours and was well, colorful. The local kids gave her the sobriquet SJ because of her appearance and strange behavior. SJ’s wiry iron grey hair has never met a brush it liked and refuses to be confined in her bun. Her housedress is always covered by a stained apron. She wears the same ratty cardigan sweater year-round and her baggy stockings are rolled to the knees.

SJ walks our back roads collecting cans to supplement her social security checks. She talks to her self and occasionally yells and shakes her fist at passing drivers.

I met her my first year here. I walked down to the gate to pick up the mail and had the shit scared out of me when she popped out of the bushes by the road.

Me: Jesus! You scared me!
SJ: Glad to meet cha Jesus.
Me: No, no my name is Ray.
SJ: Jesus Ray. That's some kinda name ya got. Got any cans?
Me: Er, no. But I’ll start saving them for you.
SJ: 'kay, gotta push off. Later, Jesus Ray.
Me: *backing slowly up the drive* Yeah, see you later…and the name’s Ray…just Ray.

Almost every day that spring the intercom in the house would squawk with the message from the gate speaker “Hey, Jesus Ray, got any cans?” When summer arrived SJ’s visits fell off until the cooler autumn weather brought her back. Then she disappeared entirely with winter. The next year the cycle repeated.

Yesterday while I was in the kitchen drinking my second cup of coffee and daydreaming the intercom buzzed and I heard: “Hey, Jesus Ray…”

I’ve got to drag that sack of cans up from the basement. It’s time for spring cleaning.