My aunt Ira Mae just moved into senior housing in a small Wisconsin town called Crawfish Creek Manor, Aunt Ira Mae calls it “God’s waiting room”. She called me today to let me know the latest gossip, about her little trips around town and such. This is today’s accounting of her new home.
Crawfish Creek Manor is a one street town with a creek running through it, Crawfish Creek…I am told that there are no crawfish in the creek! She no doubt put on her waders and checked this out. The town she says begins with the Manor, a home for senior citizens, and the creek winds through town. On each end of Main Street are two wood bridges between the bridges is a Theater (owned by Mayor Wilson) that is open every Saturday; next comes Andy’s barbershop (the mayor’s son), then the Crawfish Café (the mayors daughter Emma), Edna’s Beauty shop (Andy’s wife), Wilson’s Drug and Hardware store (Mayor’s son), Morrie’s Service Station (the mayor’s grandson), and last but not least a sign next to the last bridge with bold letters stating… “YOU ARE NOW LEAVING CRAWFISH CREEK”.
By now you are wondering, shouldn’t the town be called Wilson Creek? Well, no, because Aunt Ira Mae said that Mr. Wilson’s great-great-granddaddy settled the town and he thought it was a fine name for a creek and town. It is farm country there are no citizens accept the Wilson’s their homes are on the edge of Crawfish Creek and the Manor that she has moved into.
Aunt Ira Mae told me that Crawfish Creek Manor’s tenants come from a four county area; a large home with a palatial four-column porch that would lead you to believe it had been picked up out of the Deep South and placed there beside the creek. There are twenty tenants male and female, a gathering room and a small office where Mr. Wilson’s daughter Rosemary pretends to be the administrator/manager.
Ira Mae, well she moved from the city…an active elderly female of eighty-years-young. It looked peaceful she said, away from the hustle-bustle of Madison metro living, a place where seniors lived and enjoyed their waning years, or so it advertised.
However, living in Crawfish Creek Manor is not what she thought it would be… according to her, if it was not for her bottle of “Jack” she would go postal on them. I have found her adventure in her new home very interesting and she promises to give me a daily update, so as I continue with my “book project” I will try to share these interesting stories. When I ask what she thought each day when she woke in her new home she yelled into the phone…”I tell myself to just get up and breathe damn-it at my age what else can I do”. That’s my Aunt Ira Mae, a walking cane in one hand and a cup of coffee laced with Jack Daniels in the other! Hopefully she will call me with another tale of her life at Crawfish Creek Manor very soon.
On page 70 of the new book and these distractions are at times refreshing!