Bom Bom was our matriarch – a very kind, strong woman of great compassion, intellect, and an insatiable curiosity of life. When she spoke, we listened. Her knowledge of history, science, and literature was so vast, I was of the belief that she had retained everything she had ever been taught.
As part of her oversight, Bom Bom often lent a hand in many areas of the farm, particularly with animals in labor. She also believed that there was never a bad time for a good lesson. When a lamb had died being transported between barns, she found it a fine time for an anatomy lesson. She borrowed a farm hand’s pocket knife and slit the lamb from stem to stern. She then began pointing out the various organs and their functions, scolding any grandchildren who were squeamish.
As with any competitive family, games often occupied our spare time, and frequently led to acrimony. On the rare occasion when we might have committed a transgression, a stern lecture was delivered at the family meal following whatever transgression might have taken place. Whenever we fell short of Bom Bom’s expectations, she would open with “Queen Victoria is not amused,” and we knew that a lecture was not far behind. Bom Bom continued by telling us that she had heard us playing croquet and that our language had been much too colorful and very unbecoming for children of any age – the use of this language had become a crutch that was a product of a lazy mind and must stop then and there. There was no denying her observation, but Penn politely countered that:
1. croquet was not a polite game, and
2. it was not a game that could be played civilly…certainly not in our overly competitive family.
Croquet had been played in our family for more than 100 years, dating back to when helmets were part of the equipment. Furthermore, there was substantial evidence that we were descendants of the first family of croquet, the Jaques family. It was clearly in our blood, and we could only hope to channel that energy into a winning strategy. Still, Queen Victoria was unmoved by Penn’s compelling argument, and she asked where we had learned this colorful language. Jack and Stain replied in unison “Dad” (Bom Bom’s sons). Bom Bom replied, “ Oh…….oh, my.” Jack followed, explaining that he had heard some of these words after his dad had been kicked by a horse. Stain added that his dad knew all of the bad words by heart. Bom Bom had heard enough, and the mandate barring foul language was enacted. No one knew how the banishment of colorful language might manifest itself. As it was, the unvented energy resulted in many a ball being sent across the road to Uncle Owl’s sheep farm, a feat of incredible strength.
On another occasion several grandchildren were playing Monopoly. Chip asked the others if they were going to be observing “box” rules or “cheating” rules. They all agreed that this game would be played under “cheating” rules. When “cheating” rules were observed, anything went, resulting in a much shorter game. Properties were stolen, houses and hotels pinched, and players advanced closer to “Go.” When Chip bent Marigold’s finger back until she gave him Marvin Gardens, Bom Bom intervened. She picked up the board and stopped the game, saying that there would be no “cheating” in games at the farm.
Having just pinched $2000 from the bank, no one protested louder than Marigold, but the protests fell on deaf ears.
Penn and Chip went on to play Stratego. Bom Bom, keeping a close eye on things, asked what war they were fighting. While the game did not involve any specific war reenactment, Chip thought it best to respond with the name of some war and replied, “World War II.” At that point Bom Bom insisted that Penn return three of Chip’s brilliantly won destroyers, explaining that they were playing in a manner that was historically inaccurate. She went on to review the major naval battles of the war and insist that if they were going to continue playing, they needed to be faithful to history.
Bom Bom assumed great responsibility in the matters of the culture and education of her grandchildren. What followed over the next few years were three epic trips, taking various groups of grandchildren to Europe. She had a very resourceful approach focusing on the 10-13 year olds: old enough to be self-sufficient and too young to partake in the nightlife. See "The Incredible Journey".
Clean-up Editor: Toni Gardner, Author of Walking Where The Dog Walks
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