Mom's cousin Leo died on Thursday. Stopped his tractor while haying, and died on his tractor with it still running. No relatives here in town to do anything but mom. His only surviving kin is his sister Ruthie, who is blind, and 80 and in a nursing home in Milwaukee. So, mom calls me for help.
Today we went to the funeral home. Had to pick out a coffin and make decisions on thank you notes, flowers, music, etc. I called Ruthie and asked her if it was okay if we spent $600 more on a wooden coffin cause it looked so much nicer than metal, which she preferred. Then, as I'm describing it, I realize she's blind and none of this matters to her. She asked us to go to his farm and get some braille hymnals she had left there.
We had to come up with an outfit for Leo to wear (all he had was farm-worn overalls). Mom got cheap and wanted to dress him in an old old Milwaukee Brewers hat and Army sweatshirt that she had found in the attic. I told her we had to do better than that and she confessed she had an old suit of grandpa's. This suit was hung on an old rusty hanger with a newspaper to prevent the pants from being creased. The date on the newspaper was 1972. (The newspaper had to be saved, another valuable 'antique' for mom to stash away.) I bought a shirt and tie to match it at Goodwill and it looked much better than the original suggestion.
So, next we go to Leo's farm to get the braille hymnals. The door was ajar and my heart sank. Mom ran right in while I called the sheriff. Mom had been warned that some bad guys in town, the W*** boys, had done some haying for Leo and were bragging that he had a lot of cash in the house and they knew where it was. We went in and saw that the cabinets were all open and antique dishes had been stacked near the door, the safes had also been moved. We knew they were coming back. Then a car pulls into the farm and it's a fat bastard with yellow eyes who looks like he wants to pull out, but too late, I've seen him. He pulls in and I ask him what he needs. 'Oh, nothing, I was just best friends with Leo and wonder when the funeral is.' I ask him his name, and it's Chester W***. Great, so here we are with a suspect and so we don't tell him the Sheriff is on the way. We ask him how he knew Leo and stall him.
Next, the Sherrif pulls in. This guy craps his pants. We tell him the house has been broken into and he says stuff like, 'There's nothing in that house, who would break in?' The Sheriff asks him to stay and asks him what he's doing there. The Sheriff takes down his license number and name and then lets him go. Okay, this is a small County, so no real CSI going on. But mom wants fingerprints done. So the Sheriff's deputy obliges. It almost looked like some fake makeup brush, who knows, but at least he appeased her. He did find a tennis shoe print in the dirt floor in the basement, so that is the best evidence. He took a bunch of pictures of the place, probably to show at parties. Maybe they'll show up on U Tube.
Then, of all things, mom comes out with a bag of weeds (the house was jam packed with bags of weird stuff, like egg cartons, catfood bags, pie tins, etc.) and asks the Sheriff if this is gingseng. WTF??? Where did this come from??? He and I died laughing, especially when he said it was dandelion weeds (okay, I guess if you store them in the house, they won't spread across your lawn?). So, this poor Sheriff is already there for over an hour, has taken the fingerprints and shoe prints, identified a bag of dandelion weeds, and all we know is missing is a blue pan that we had admired the previous visit. Now, he needs to go, but we ask him to carry the safe out of the house in case the robber returns.
This guy practically herniates himself with this huge safe. Brings it to the Volvo that I have as a loaner while ours is in the shop, and I tell him I need to get a blanket so it won't scratch the plastic tailgate (this is a 2008 loaner). So, I run into the house, and the best blanket I could find was loaded with mouse droppings. I am so grossed out and shake it out, but by now, Mr. Sheriff's face is sweating as he can't hold the safe much longer. I put the blanket down and we slide the safe into the Volvo. Whoever the lucky buyer of this Volvo eventually is will have no idea of its history.
So, mom and I return to her farm and call Turtle to help us offload the safe. Mom tries to get him to pick the lock (just cause he works at the jail, she thinks he's now a lock picker). She wants to give him a crowbar but he says wait until my brother Tommy comes up next weekend. So, now the 'Al Capone' safe is in the barn hidden amongst all the junk that's collected there and covered by the mouse turd blanket. The safe cracking will be a story for another day. The funeral is Monday and I know this story has many more chapters. Who said it would be boring in Wisconsin?
Today we went to the funeral home. Had to pick out a coffin and make decisions on thank you notes, flowers, music, etc. I called Ruthie and asked her if it was okay if we spent $600 more on a wooden coffin cause it looked so much nicer than metal, which she preferred. Then, as I'm describing it, I realize she's blind and none of this matters to her. She asked us to go to his farm and get some braille hymnals she had left there.
We had to come up with an outfit for Leo to wear (all he had was farm-worn overalls). Mom got cheap and wanted to dress him in an old old Milwaukee Brewers hat and Army sweatshirt that she had found in the attic. I told her we had to do better than that and she confessed she had an old suit of grandpa's. This suit was hung on an old rusty hanger with a newspaper to prevent the pants from being creased. The date on the newspaper was 1972. (The newspaper had to be saved, another valuable 'antique' for mom to stash away.) I bought a shirt and tie to match it at Goodwill and it looked much better than the original suggestion.
So, next we go to Leo's farm to get the braille hymnals. The door was ajar and my heart sank. Mom ran right in while I called the sheriff. Mom had been warned that some bad guys in town, the W*** boys, had done some haying for Leo and were bragging that he had a lot of cash in the house and they knew where it was. We went in and saw that the cabinets were all open and antique dishes had been stacked near the door, the safes had also been moved. We knew they were coming back. Then a car pulls into the farm and it's a fat bastard with yellow eyes who looks like he wants to pull out, but too late, I've seen him. He pulls in and I ask him what he needs. 'Oh, nothing, I was just best friends with Leo and wonder when the funeral is.' I ask him his name, and it's Chester W***. Great, so here we are with a suspect and so we don't tell him the Sheriff is on the way. We ask him how he knew Leo and stall him.
Next, the Sherrif pulls in. This guy craps his pants. We tell him the house has been broken into and he says stuff like, 'There's nothing in that house, who would break in?' The Sheriff asks him to stay and asks him what he's doing there. The Sheriff takes down his license number and name and then lets him go. Okay, this is a small County, so no real CSI going on. But mom wants fingerprints done. So the Sheriff's deputy obliges. It almost looked like some fake makeup brush, who knows, but at least he appeased her. He did find a tennis shoe print in the dirt floor in the basement, so that is the best evidence. He took a bunch of pictures of the place, probably to show at parties. Maybe they'll show up on U Tube.
Then, of all things, mom comes out with a bag of weeds (the house was jam packed with bags of weird stuff, like egg cartons, catfood bags, pie tins, etc.) and asks the Sheriff if this is gingseng. WTF??? Where did this come from??? He and I died laughing, especially when he said it was dandelion weeds (okay, I guess if you store them in the house, they won't spread across your lawn?). So, this poor Sheriff is already there for over an hour, has taken the fingerprints and shoe prints, identified a bag of dandelion weeds, and all we know is missing is a blue pan that we had admired the previous visit. Now, he needs to go, but we ask him to carry the safe out of the house in case the robber returns.
This guy practically herniates himself with this huge safe. Brings it to the Volvo that I have as a loaner while ours is in the shop, and I tell him I need to get a blanket so it won't scratch the plastic tailgate (this is a 2008 loaner). So, I run into the house, and the best blanket I could find was loaded with mouse droppings. I am so grossed out and shake it out, but by now, Mr. Sheriff's face is sweating as he can't hold the safe much longer. I put the blanket down and we slide the safe into the Volvo. Whoever the lucky buyer of this Volvo eventually is will have no idea of its history.
So, mom and I return to her farm and call Turtle to help us offload the safe. Mom tries to get him to pick the lock (just cause he works at the jail, she thinks he's now a lock picker). She wants to give him a crowbar but he says wait until my brother Tommy comes up next weekend. So, now the 'Al Capone' safe is in the barn hidden amongst all the junk that's collected there and covered by the mouse turd blanket. The safe cracking will be a story for another day. The funeral is Monday and I know this story has many more chapters. Who said it would be boring in Wisconsin?
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