Hello, everyone. I’m Jack Jamieson. You probably know me best as Lucky’s grandfather. And you’ve probably seen me at the By the Spoonful Soup Shop. Now, everybody knows Lucky. She’s gotten herself involved in lots of murders over the past few years, and I worry about her a lot. Funny thing is, she worries a lot more about me. Now that’s just not right. I’m getting on in years. Oh, I’m not old, don’t get me wrong, I just turned 86 and that’s hardly old, is it? I’ve had some health problems and the worst of it is my spells, as I call them.
You see, I spent pretty much most of my life in the Navy and I served in World War II in the Pacific. So when one of those spells comes on me, I’m in trouble. I see the men drowning in the sea, I hear their screams and I’m tryin’ to save ‘em before the sharks get ‘em. It’s pretty bad. Lucky’s talked me through a few of them and I always come back to my senses, but I know it scares her a lot. Scares me too, to tell you the truth.
I’m outa the Navy now. Retired. Well, I still work at the Spoonful every day. Mostly you’ll find me at the cash register unless I’m taking a break. I don’t want to leave my girl on her own. She’s got Janie and Meg and Sage to help her in the restaurant, but I’m her only real family. My wife’s been gone a long time and then Lucky’s parents, my son and his wife, died a few years ago. So, Lucky and I, well, we’re the only family each other has.
I know people get a chuckle out of the way I talk. It’s 'cause of all those years at sea. I can’t help myself, I'm just an old salt. I still call the walls the bulkhead and the floor, the deck. Oh, and of course, I tell time by the bells. Lucky always knows what I mean. Everybody else just shakes their heads like it’s the most difficult thing in the world. It isn’t. It’s real simple.
You see, the day is broken up into six parts. There’s mid – that’s middle of the night, the wee hours, then morning, forenoon, afternoon, dogs and first. And the bells go from one bell to eight bells for each of those parts of the day. So six-thirty in the morning is five bells and nine o’clock at night is two bells. At the end of each part of the day, it’s always eight bells. That’s where the expression, “Eight bells and all’s well,” comes from. See? It’s real easy.
I used to yearn to go to sea and visit exotic ports ‘o call when I was a young kid, but no more. I’m very happy to be home in Snowflake, Vermont, the only state in New England without a seacoast, helping my granddaughter at the Spoonful. I hope you’ll stop in and visit some time and try some of our wonderful soups. And you can read all about me and Lucky and everyone else in town in the Soup Lover's Mystery series.
Twitter: @Snowflake VT