My good friend Toby has been gone two years come tomorrow but the sound of his cheerful voice on his wife's answering machine still makes me smile. He was one of the funniest, smartest, most creative folks I have ever known and I miss him.
Nothing can replace his way of telling a story -- we try to remind ourselves of them -- the burn job, the oil well -- but we can't come close to his delivery.
At least we have a continuing reminder of Toby's antic humor in the wonderful creations scattered around the house he and his wife shared.
The flamingo crafted from a tractor seat, trowels, and other odds and ends I don't recognize is perhaps my favorite, but this cheerful gas cylinder lady below, with her flirty skirt and bosom a la Madonna is awfully winning.
Nothing can replace his way of telling a story -- we try to remind ourselves of them -- the burn job, the oil well -- but we can't come close to his delivery.
At least we have a continuing reminder of Toby's antic humor in the wonderful creations scattered around the house he and his wife shared.
The flamingo crafted from a tractor seat, trowels, and other odds and ends I don't recognize is perhaps my favorite, but this cheerful gas cylinder lady below, with her flirty skirt and bosom a la Madonna is awfully winning.
I miss you, Toby.
6 comments:
Out of the blue yesterday I thought of a old friend Papa Choate
who lived to be ninety-eight years old and was a wonderful story teller.I asked myself why I did not tape him when I had the chance?
I miss him and his wisdom but I am grateful I knew him and will never forget him.
Love the yard art, and what a great way for someone to live on. (I think the lady is my favorite.)
Stories passed down through generations probably change with each new person telling it. I think that's part of what makes them so special. Each generation puts their own stamp on them.
The yard art is fantastic. I, too, love the lady, but the water fowl from a bed pan has to be the most creative thing I've seen in a while.
What a nice tribute to a dear friend. Like you, my past is full of storytellers and though the actual stories haven't stuck with me, some of the storytellers I can see in my mind's eye just like they were sitting before me.
Glenda
www.profilesandpedigrees.blogspto.com
Let us now praise famous men, and our fathers that begat us.
All these were honored in their generations, and were the glory of their times.
There be of them, that have left a name behind them,that their praises might be reported.
And some there be, which have no memorial; who are perished, as though they had never been; and are become as though they had never been born . . .
from The Song of the Three Holy Children (The Apocrypha)
I like keeping names and memories alive.
I remember Toby's art from when I was a child and lived up the hill from he and Josie and their 2 children, now long since grown. We still have 1 of the famous ceramic coffee mugs that were always around their house...the yard art is a perfect example of him, exactly as I would have remembered him.
Jennifer Sanders - 24720 Highland Way
I think Toby would have liked to be remembered with a smile -- or even a grin!
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