Grampa's Bird House

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My maternal grandfather's name was Orsa Drake(aka OD). He was cranky, moody, and didn't like kids. My mom and I lived with my grandparents until I was about nine years old. When I was about four he would be out doing choirs and I would aggravate him to no end. Incessantly asking him to let me help him. Finally, I got through his iron veneer and he warmed up to me. I would snitch eggs out of the chicken house and make him mud pies. He would rave and tell me I was going to make a great cook. Then I got him to let me help him paint the garage. That was fun. I remember one Fall when I was nearly five. He was out raking leaves. I got right in the middle of that and raked as well as made a house with the leaves as the house floor plans. My mom came home from work and, as she quite often did, she brought me home a treat. This particular time it was a roll of Necco candy wafers. I put the roll down in a clump of leaves in what was my kitchen. One evening my grampa was out on the front porch looking up into the foothills. I went out and joined him on the step. I questioned him about what he was looking at. He directed my line of vision to one particular house up in the foothills where the larger and more lavish houses were. Its roof and upper deck met in such a way as to make the house look like a birdhouse from a distance. Each night for a long time to come we would both meet on the porch and enjoy some time looking up at the birdhouse.