Dental labs and plum trees, verification required

What do fresh plums have to do with dental work? Read on and find out!

I only have a bit of recall on this, so correct me if I'm wrong. It has to do with dental molds. If I remember correctly you did this type of work for awhile. Was it something you did out of your home? Or did you work in a shop? I read the blog post below that mentioned a little place in Seattle, pretty much an institution, a real slice of old Seattle. Did this happen to be the place? I remember you were living in Seattle at the time. We both did, for awhile. I lived in the Broadview neighborhood, then, after a short stay in Everett, came back to live in Ballard. If I remember correctly you lived out in Wallingford, in a house with a plum tree in the backyard. As far as that dental lab is concerned, it could be one amongst many, but it is close enough to where you used to live that it could be the one that you worked for. Who knows? You do, set me straight.

As for Wallingford, nice part of town. Great shops, wonderful places to eat. As for that house, I can't remember if you owned it or what. I do remember you talking about that plum tree, though. I know that I was lucky to have one growing in the church yard behind the Queen Anne branch library. Those were grand plums, especially picked in the heat of summer. Hard core gooshy fruit, messy, couldn't eat one without juice running down your arm. Nice memory, that. Hadn't really had a decent plum since. Least ways, till I mentioned it to you.

I can't remember for sure what brought on that conversation, the one about houses and fruit trees, but I think it started out with a mention of my old house in Santa Ana, the one that had that great avocado tree that dropped tons of produce all over my lawn, over the fence and into the alley behind the house. I still remember coming home one day and finding a couple young guys from the neighborhood doing a balancing act on my fence, reaching up into that tree, going for that ripe fruit. It was a mighty good tree. Never ate so many delicious avocados before or since. One story about a magical fruit tree begets another, hence your tale.

As for that plum tree in your yard, the same thing had happened to you. Too much fruit, too much spoilage, so you let neighbors and passers-by reach over the fence and pick from your tree in order not to waste that fruit. Talk about magic. In telling your story your eyes practically sparkled. And there it was, something I hadn't seen in you before, a sense of self, a letting down of your guard, a sharing of a bit of M that told tales about you apart from your plums. It told me more about your inner workings than darn near anything else we had talked about up to that time. That side, that sparkling side, was something apart from your general work demeanor.

Different than the hard working, funny and pretty much happy gal we worked along side with in the branch. We were both still somewhat new in that "active friendship" category at that time, we were still in the gathering phase where new pals tell all their early tales. The plum story brought out something in you, I don't know what. A sense of sweetness that was very endearing to me then, even moreso to think about it now.

I remember not too long afterwards you asked me to meet you at the club house one afternoon there in the Woods. The Boy had golf lessons that day so it was easy to do. You pulled up in your van and passed along to me a couple jars of raspberry preserves you made the weekend before and a bag of plums you had just picked that morning at your girlfriend's house. I think you got a bit irked with me that day, as a coworker had already passed some plums to me earlier that morning! Damn if she didn't steal your thunder! How was I know to know you were going to pass plums along to me that day? Never saw another plum fall out of your hands into mine again, that's for sure! But the ones you gave me I ate with relish all the same. Out of loyalty to those old memories let's just say that yours were much, much better even if they were a different kind of plum all together!

So, just know that whenever I think of plums I'll think of you and your tree there in Seattle, the one that had folks reaching over a fence to get at the fruit. Thank goodness for that short post below on that wee dental molding place in Seattle for it jogged a forgotten memory of those times. It's a strange combination of things indeed, dental molds and plum trees, but when I put them together they'll always make me think of you and of that one very short and tender rendevous that was sweeter than either that raspberry jam or those plums could ever be!

Your WHMB

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/seattlesketcher/2009211282_ding.html/

Post Script: thank goodness, or not, for old love letters. Well, it wasn't a love letter at the time but it was loaded with stories about your life. I found out that I had the type of fruit wrong, least ways, in regards to your tree. It was a peach tree you had growing in the backyard of that house in Wallingford. And, like me, you were happy to share that bounty with the neighbors that lived on the other side of your fence. That's one thing that's never changed. That sharing thing. Love, WHMB