'I'm glad to be yu-ah partnuh, Papaw'

My grandson Landon spends a good bit of time with me in my woodworking shop. He seems to enjoy being with me, and I certainly enjoy having him there. We visit almost constantly when we are together. Bear in mind that Landon will be 5 years old in November. Sometimes, he comes across as older than his years. At other times, he is just a typical 4-year-old spending time with his grandpa.

Landon has trouble making the "r" sound, so some of his thoughts are difficult for me to understand the first time I hear them. For instance, I have a photograph of a large black bear on the shop wall. Landon calls it a, "bah." He might say something like, "See the bah ovah thah?"

The other day, we were working at the shop when I got a text from Linda that lunch was ready. Landon and I stopped what we were doing and drove down to the house. On the way, we saw one of their cats on my drive. Landon said, "I don't know why ow-ah cats don't stay home."

"They like it over here," I told him, "We feed them just like they were ours."

"Ow-ah motha cat had kittens, but Dad had to kill them. It's okay though because they ah getting good ca-ah. We buried them, so they ah in heaven. Jesus will take good ca-ah of them. You don't need any food in heaven."

"How many kittens did she have?" I asked.

"I don't know, ten ah so."

Just for the record, not everything Landon tells me turns out to be true.

We went in the house where Linda was setting the table. I walked over to our chess table to retrieve a chair for Landon.

Landon said, "Miss Linda didn't even have to tell you to get my chay-ah, Papaw."

"No, she didn't," I said, "She has me trained pretty well."

We sat down and held hands all around as I said the blessing. Lunch consisted of chili and crackers. The chili was excellent as always. For dessert we had watermelon from our garden. After we were done, I told Landon to go wash his hands. As he was leaving his chair I told him to check if there were any beans from the chili on his lap.

"Thah isn't any," he said triumphantly, "They all fell on the flo-ah."

I looked down and observed several beans lying on the floor, one of which had been stepped on. Linda and I both had to laugh.

"Thank you fo-ah the good lunch," Landon told Miss Linda as we headed back up to the shop.

At the shop I was in the middle of replacing the tires on my bandsaw wheels. I have a 19-inch bandsaw, so the wheels are fairly large and heavy. Landon helped hold the wheels as I strained to pull the tires over the rim. As I was wrestling with the tires, there were a couple of instances where I needed a hammer or some other wrench in order to get the tires to go over the rim of the wheels. When asked, Landon was quick to bring me just what I needed.

Impressed, I said, "Do you know what we are?"

"No, what ah we, Papaw?"

"We are partners. I really enjoy working with you."

"I like wuh-king with you, too, Papaw."

We eventually got the tires on the wheels and the wheels back on the bandsaw. I had ordered some new blades, so we unwrapped one and put it on the saw. I showed Landon how to adjust the guides so the blade had very little play.

"Now, Landon, you want to make sure that the first thing you do when you are working on a piece of equipment is to unplug it. That way it can't accidentally turn on while your hands are in it."

Landon seemed to be engrossed in what we were doing. I asked him what made the wheels on the bandsaw turn. He pointed to the belts that connected the wheels to the motor.

"Yes, but what makes the motor run?" I asked him.

"The co-ahd," he replied.

"But what really makes it run? Why does the cord have to be plugged into the socket?"

"I don't know," Landon said.

"Well, there is electricity running into the shop that you can tap into when you plug the cord into the socket. The electricity makes the motor run. When the motor runs, it turns the shaft with the belt on it and that makes the wheels turn and the wheels have a bandsaw blade on them so you can use that turning blade to cut wood and other stuff."

"Can we cut some wood on the bandsaw now, Papaw?" he asked.

"Sure, I need to test the bandsaw and see if everything is properly adjusted." I said, "Stand back and let's see how it's working."

I started the bandsaw and watched the movement of the blade. I turned the switch off and adjusted the guides a little closer to the blade. I then turned the switch back on and ran a piece of scrap wood through the machine. It cut perfectly, so I was a happy camper. I told Landon that we were back in business with the bandsaw.

He smiled and said, "I'm glad to be yu-ah partnuh, Papaw. We fixed the bandsaw. Now, you won't have to use my dad's bandsaw anymo-uh."

"That's right, I won't. Now if we need to cut something on the bandsaw we can do it right here in our shop. Right, Partner?"

"That's wight, Pahtnuh!" he said, smiling broadly.

Sam Byrnes is a Gentry-area resident and weekly contributor to the Eagle Observer. He may be contacted by email at [email protected]. Opinions expressed are those of the author.