A sticky situation

I found this little countdown truck at Dollar General

I pause in the delivery of my sporadic travelogues to tell you what's been going on.

Every year we all go out the day after Thanksgiving to take Christmas pictures.

This is because we need them for our Christmas cards.

Blue-eyed cousins: Ember Rae and Rhett Gregory

This year, as in most years, the weather cooperated. It was cool but not cold, and we converged upon the Horseshoe on the University of South Carolina campus in downtown Columbia, to do the shoots.

I say shoots because each family gets their photo taken, and then if everyone is present and accounted for, I take a group photo of all of our children and grandchildren together.

Last year Andrew and Brittany weren't able to join us for this, so I was excited to get that shot this year.

We're all lit up in the kitchen

Once the multifaceted mission was accomplished, Stephanie and her family headed home to North Carolina.

The rest of us went back to our house to eat Thanksgiving leftovers.

Then it was Saturday, and on that evening we had hamburgers and hot dogs cooked on the grill and celebrated Ember's third birthday one week early.

Her mother created a barnyard-themed tablescape and decorated a plain white cake with piggies squealing as they slid down a mudslide of Oreo cookie crumbs. Adorable.

My kids' stockings are supersized

Then Ember opened her gifts and was so sweet about looking at each card, and politely saying thank you to each one, for each present.

At the start of the first official week of Christmas, I began the task of choosing our card and getting it ordered.

(To be more accurate, I didn't make a decision right away but at least I began the process.)

In due time, I got them ordered.

I received this little church at a gift exchange many years ago

Once I've made up my mind, I don't like to wait, so I go with CVS same-day pickup.

Then as I prepared to do my mailing (I order 140 Christmas cards; approximately 80 go out through the mail and 60 are distributed at church and amongst neighbors and other local friends), I realized that I was going to need Christmas stickers.

You'd think that would be easy.

But no.

When you come over, you can have your coffee or cocoa in a festive mug

First I went to Hobby Lobby, the mother of all craft stores.

I searched high and low -- even in the sticker aisle -- for Christmas stickers, and came up with nothing.

(To be honest, they may have had something Christmasy in the sticker aisle that would have suited, but it wasn't their week to be half-off so I would not have bought them anyway. But I don't think they had any.)

Stephanie and her family

Finally, in a last-ditch effort to locate what I was convinced surely must be there somewhere, I approached a worker in one of the (many) aisles devoted to the display of Christmas merchandise of every conceivable shape, size, and use.

The employee in question was a frazzled-looking older lady with a mop of gray hair that hung down in her face.

She peered at me from behind large glasses and a considerable quantity of the hair.

I made this mince pie and it did not get eaten. It's in the freezer awaiting Christmas Eve.

I'm just being honest.

She did not smile or even speak, at first, when I said: Hi! with my best pirate smile, and yes it is dazzling.

So I continued: Could you tell me where I might find Christmas stickers? Not the to-from kind that you stick onto a gift, but just regular Christmas stickers like you put on the back of a card?

Cherica and Baby Rhett

The lady hesitated and then said: Everything we have is out.

She gestured in a halfhearted way by waving weakly with one hand, indicating that if the stickers were "out", they would be in the vicinity. Or they could be anywhere.

I said: So you don't specifically know of any Christmas stickers?

Some of the TV room decorations

No, she said.

Thanks! I said.

Defeated, I queued up and bought the few things that were in my cart, and left.

Next stop: Walmart, for groceries. And surely for Christmas stickers.

Brittany and Ember

Except, once I had searched the greeting card and gift wrap and party supplies aisles, as well as the seasonal aisles near that area, and the second seasonal aisle elsewhere in the store at least a half-acre away from those areas, and failed to locate even the suggestion of a Christmas sticker, I decided it was time to ask for help.

I approached a worker who was fiddling with a display of Christmas baking items.

Hi! I said. Could you tell me where I might find Christmas stickers? Not the to-from kind to stick onto a gift, but the kind you put on the back of an envelope containing a Christmas card? I've looked everywhere.

These are some of our presents for the kids and grandkids ... theirs to us and one another will be added

This lady practically glared at me from beneath a Santa hat. She did not smile or encourage me in any way.

All of the Christmas stuff is in the Garden Center, she said.

I hesitated. Well ... except for the Christmas stuff at the front of the store beside the greeting card aisle, and the Christmas stuff crammed into the aisle behind you, I said.

No, she said shaking her head so that the white pompom on the end of her Santa hat bobbed around. Everything is in the Garden Center. If we have Christmas stickers, that's where they'll be.

That's all of them ... so far

Thanks! I said. Lies! I knew then that I was basically on my own in the retail wilderness.

Back to the front of the store I trotted, hooking a right towards the Garden Center (approximately a quarter mile away). Despite odds that were lengthening by the minute, I was feeling hopeful.

Through the doors to the Garden Center I went. It was in fact stuffed with all things Christmas: from fake trees to lights to tinsel to gift wrap to ornaments to wreaths, it was there.

I began searching for Christmas stickers. The gift wrap aisle made the most sense to me, so I started there.

My gnome is all set for the slopes

And they had tons of Christmas stickers! Except, all sixteen million of them said To: followed by From:.

I sighed and located a worker. This lady was actually very nice and smiled at me sweetly when I said: Hi!

I continued: Do you know where I might find Christmas stickers? Not the kind that say to-from but the kind that you plaster onto the back of a Christmas card before you pop it into the mail?

Audrey and Dagny Clare

Her smile, at first so radiant, did not stick to her face.

Oh no, she said. I'm pretty sure that the only kind we have say To: and From:.

But then, in a sincere effort to be helpful: Have you looked up front in all of the Christmas-themed aisles near the greeting cards? With the big Santa on top?

Oh yes, I said. Thoroughly. Twice.

This display adorns the foyer

She shook her head in sympathy. Then I'm pretty sure we don't have any Christmas stickers, she said.

I thanked her again and sighed and turned away. Yes! I had spent at least thirty minutes on my quest in that store, for something as simple as a pack of Christmas stickers.

Call it an hour if you count all the time I spent doing the same thing at Hobby Lobby.

For all in tents and porpoises, I gave up.

Andrew, Brittany, and Ember

That night we had church and on the way home I said to TG: Let's go to Kroger because I need a few things and I bet they will have Christmas stickers there.

Hope springs eternal.

And they did. There were ony two designs and one was Snoopy but since I needed so many, I settled for a theme that had not really been what I was looking for, but was pretty enough and Christmasy enough.

Note to the pirate: Take yes for an answer.

Here's what you'll see when you come to my front door

If I have your address, you got a card with one of these and I hope you didn't throw it away now that you know what I went through.

And yes please do pepper me with suggestions of where I should have looked for Christmas stickers, and how I should have started looking earlier, or perhaps even bought them online in plenty of time for when I needed them.

I have not thought of any of those things, or accused myself of poor judgment in this area, so please do have a go at me. 

Rhett was ready to rumble

In other news, last Saturday TG and I traveled to Simpsonville to the Cracker Barrel there (remember, Jeanette?) to have lunch with Henry and my sister Kay and her husband Pierre-Philippe.

Kay had a birthday this week, and I wanted to give them their treat-filled Christmas baskets that I'd made, so it worked out well.

I also took along a small chocolate cake that a (very nice) worker at Kroger ruined by writing my sister's name -- three letters! -- upon said cake in a way so disproportionate and odd-looking that I was truly flabbergasted.

We'll put this pillow at your back when you come to visit me

But I did not say anything except: Thanks!

Bygones. It did not affect the taste of the cake, which was truly fresh and delicious, and which we all enjoyed.

TG and I also got a birthday balloon for my sister and I clipped it to something in the middle of the table at the restaurant. As we were just beginning to drive home after the party, though, I remembered that we had not brought it out of the restaurant with us.

Ember's party had a barnyard theme

I texted Kay: Your balloon! We forgot it! She responded: I never even saw it!

Help me to understand.

Where was it? She texted. Floating above the table, I responded.

My lazy Susan is decorated with various things

Where, for all I know, it floats even now.

TG's philosophy at such times: Let it go. And he is right.

Dagny got sick and had to miss her Christmas program at church last Sunday night. She spent Monday at my house, sleeping most of the time.

She missed her balloon but we ate her cake with the funny-looking writing on top

But she recovered sufficiently to participate in her piano recital on Thursday evening (last night, as I write this), for which she played a simple but effective rendition of Silent Night.

Afterwards I asked her to pose at the piano. The result was a picture that prompted me to caption it when I sent it out later in a group text to Audrey, Erica, Andrew, Stephanie, Chad, Brittany, and TG: At some things she is a beginner but at other things she is not.

We're glowing to have a great time at Christmas

Eight going on eighteen, is all I have to say.

And now we are in the thick of it, with Christmas a mere eight days away.

All of my gift shopping is complete with the exception of a few stocking stuffers that I plan to pick up next week.

Dagny is eight going on eighteen

Everything is wrapped and waiting under the tree.

Before it's all over we will have Melanie's birthday party on the 22nd, followed by first Christmas (the same night but as separate events) with Stepanie's family, one Christmas party (Christmas Eve buffet at Erica's house), second Christmas (with Chad, Erica, Rhett, Audrey, and Dagny on Christmas Day), and third Christmas (with Andrew, Brittany, and Ember on the 29th).

Merry Christmas from TG and me and all the family

Then we'll blink once or twice and it will be 2023.

I plan to enjoy every single last solitary second of it and I hope you do too.

And that is all for now.

=0=0=0=

Happy Weekend

Remembering till it hurts

Follow the path to the overlook

Ahoy, mateys.

I hope you had a blessed and love-filled Thanksgiving with many sweet faces to look upon and plentiful scrumptious goodies to eat.

We certainly did. There were a few bumps in the road but none of us are too much the worse for wear.

So preoccupied have I been that I just realized it's one week and then some, since the aforementioned quintessential fall holiday. Where that week went, I will never know.

The wall of names resembles accordion-pleated marble

I guess I would have to say that it went mostly to cleaning and decorating and getting organized for Christmas.

Some shopping may have taken place as well.

I have technically been finished with Christmas gift buying for a few weeks, but you know how it is: there are always loose ends that need tying up.

The stark concrete walls are broken in places, revealing the sky

Someone whose gift idea didn't work out, forcing you to change directions. The returning and replacing of things. Planning and buying of stocking stuffers and such like.

It will all be fine.

But a few weeks ago I promised to tell you about the second leg of our late-October trip, which began with a visit to my friend Sara and her husband Marty, in Virginia.

So let's get started.

The Tower of Voices late on an October afternoon

On the day we left Sara and Marty's bucolic environs, we were headed for a place that, in late summer this year, I developed a hankering to see with my own eyes.

(It followed my chance reading of this short essay by Ben Domenech on his substack, The Transom.)

And that place was Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

Trivia: The crash did not actually take place in Shanksville. The address of the Flight 93 National Memorial is Stoystown, Pennsylvania.

The structure delineating the flight path, from a distance

Stoystown proper is located a few miles northwest of the crash site.

It is more accurate to say that Flight 93 ended its journey in Stonycreek Township.

(I imagine that the first reporters on the scene referred to the site as Shanksville, as it is the nearest town.)

(Certainly many of the first responders to the scene came from Shanksville.)

The gate leads onto the field and to the place of impact

It took us less than three hours to get there. it was a sunny, windy, chilly day that would see me needing to add an extra layer to my outfit before heading out to the field where the heroes died.

First though, we drove into the town and saw the same sign that Ben Domenech mentions in his article.

Welcome to Shanksville ... A Friendly Little Town.

Home of the Vikings.

One of the few pieces of the airplane showing United Airlines livery

And, below all of that: Shanksville Honors the Heroes of Flight 93.

It's unassuming farm country. There is nothing on your approach to the Flight 93 National Memorial that signals your proximity to it.

The original entrance to the memorial has been changed, and when you reach that first one via your phone's GPS, a vague sign points you in the direction of the new one.

We got there, and again: at a glance, there doesn't seem to be much to see.

The Visitor Center

First to come into view was the Tower of Voices, of which I'd read and which I was eager to both see and hear. It is ninety-three feet tall and there are forty chimes: one for each victim of the Flight 93 crash.

(There were forty-four souls abord the plane; the four terrorists are not counted among the victims.)

I'd assumed that the tower would be close to the other things, but it is in fact a good distance from the Visitor Center and Memorial Plaza, and from the crash site itself.

The chimes are motivated to ring only by the wind, and winds of at least twelve miles an hour must prevail in order for them to sound.

This sign welcomes visitors to Shanksville

This day, the ambient winds were light, wafting through at perhaps seven miles an hour. The voices were still.

I was disappointed at the silence. If you're interested, you can hear the chimes here.

But I am getting ahead of my own story. We visited the chimes as we were leaving the memorial site; first, we went to the Visitor Center.

It is an odd-looking structure until you realize what is going on. The approach is like walking towards a tunnel of sorts, with high walls which separate at intervals, and no ceiling.

It happened here: the field and the boulder, from the overlook

At your feet there is a walkway of stone that resembles black planks.

I later learned that the walls and the stone planks delineate the plane's flight path in its final moments. Their texture also mimics that of the hemlock trees that became part of the crash site.

Once inside the initial opening between the two walls, you see the Visitor Center itself.

Inside, there is a small gift shop, and then various displays and mementoes relating to the crash and the passengers.

It was an honor just to stand beside their pictures

Television monitors play, on an endless loop, the footage we have all memorized from that day.

You can stand at a bank of headphones and listen to the actual messages that several victims left for their loved ones on their answering machines or cell phones.

On display is a small piece of the plane -- one of the few pieces that survived and exist.

And of course there are pictures of the victims.

There is one chime for each silenced voice

By the time I had seen and heard all of this, my heart was hurting so badly that I had to get some fresh air.

Back outside, you keep walking on the black stone pathway until, off to the left, you are steered towards an observation deck.

From it, you can see the field where the plane crashed, at the edge of a grove of hemlock trees.

A seventeen-ton sandstone boulder moved there at some point from elsewhere on the site marks the spot where Flight 93 made impact with the earth, traveling at a speed of 563 miles an hour.

First responders are appropriately memorialized

The field is enclosed by a low wall, and there is a discreetly placed gate through which only family members, and the occasional government official, are allowed to pass.

After hanging out on the observation deck for a time, I went back inside the Visitor Center in search of TG.

We decided to drive down to Memorial Plaza rather than take the long walkway there from the Visitor Center.

An informative talk was being delivered by someone official but we decided to keep walking towards the field.

The overlook offers a sweeping panorama of the crash site

Once there, all you can do is look. You can try to imagine what those people went through, but nothing in your experience compares to it, or even comes close.

You look back at the concrete tunnel that marks the plane's flight path, and see how short a time there would have been from that place, to the place where it ended.

The boulder sits marking the spot and you gaze at it, thinking about all that it means.

There is a wall of corrugated marble with all of the names, and past that, the gate that I talked about before.

Never Forget: September 11, 2001

By this time, grief was dogging my steps. We decided it was time move on.

If you have never been to the Flight 93 Memorial and you're curious as to what all I am talking about, this YouTube video offers an informal guided tour that you may want to watch.

Before leaving the area, TG and I each took one another's picture beside the pictures of the victims.

On the way out, we stopped at the Tower of Voices and wished that the winds were stronger.

I appreciated the freedom to walk in ... and out

That was it. I had planned a place for us to eat in nearby Somerset, and we made our way there.

After supper, we drove to Pittsburgh.

Next time, I'll tell you what we did there.

Meanwhile, I hope you will enjoy every minute of this glorious Christmas season.

And that is all for now.

=0=0=0=

Happy Friday :: Happy December

Lord make us thankful

=0=0=0=

Here's your sign!

Melly Time

Melanie, ready for church on Sunday morning

Remember that line from the movie Cast Away where Tom Hanks's character, Chuck Noland, sets his watch (the one his girlfriend, Kelly, gave him for Christmas), and announces that he's on Kelly Time?

Well, even if you don't, we are on Melly Time.

As in, our granddaughter Melanie is here visiting with us by herself, until Thanksgiving when the rest of her family will join us.

(I haven't forgotten that I owe you more posts about our recent trip, but time is moving quickly and before it gets away from me altogether, I wanted to tell you about this.)

On Saturday TG and I drove up to Fort Mill, South Carolina, on the North Carolina line, and met Stephanie and Melly at the Cracker Barrel.

(Yes, Essie was there! I was able to hug her neck).

We had an early supper and then Melly's stuff was loaded into our vehicle and Stephanie left to drive home by herself and Melanie came with us.

Joel, my son-in-law, let me know recently that Stephanie could probably use a wee break from the constant care of Melanie, who will turn eighteen on the shortest day of this year.

Melly is a joy and we all adore her. The fact remains, though, that she can be a lot of work. Our Steph rarely if ever has a day, or even part of a day, where her eldest child is not serving as her mother's shadow.

Dagny did not get the memo about wearing black and white

So I said well, I would love some time with Melly to myself, which has not happened since the summer of 2017.

(In the intervening years, Melanie developed a few behavioral issues that made her mom reluctant to send her to me.)

But I assured Stephanie that I am not afraid of anything Melanie can or will do, and I said that I would love to have her with me for as long as her parents could part with her.

(As it happens, my first grandchild has behaved like an angel; I think that like most kids, she saves the drama for her mama.)

In fact, she is just about the most agreeable person I have ever hung out with.

She eats (with great enthusiasm) whatever I serve her, goes to bed early and sleeps for twelve hours, and does not talk back.

(That's because she does not talk at all except to say yes and no at the appropriate times. And you have to know what Melanie's yesses and nos sound like, to catch her meaning.)

After a full day yesterday which included going to church twice, today we made a list of all the things we needed to accomplish.

So far we have made the beds, had our breakfast/coffee time, cleaned the kitchen to include sweeping the floor, taken a walk, done some laundry, and tidied up a few rooms that needed it.

These are just a few of the things Susan gave to Melanie

As each thing gets done, we strike it off our list.

One thing was to write this blog post, so write it I am and strike it I will. Melanie gets a big kick out of the striking process.

Yesterday during Sunday morning service, it was noted that all of us girls except Dagny had worn black and white.

(It was not planned; blanc noir is a popular color motif amongst the ladies in our family.)

So after church, TG was pressganged into taking a picture of all of us. For posterity and to mark Melly's fall visit.

On Sunday evening Melly had a surprise. A friend who sits near us with her husband and their own special-needs daughter, Kayla, brought Melanie a gift bag full of crafty things to occupy one such as Melanie.

There was construction paper (to make paper chains to decorate for Thanksgiving), stickers, markers, colored pencils, crayons, glue sticks, small craft kits, and other goodies.

Was that not the most thoughtful thing for my friend Susan to do?

Susan and Melanie

She knows what the caregivers of a disabled adult have to deal with, as she has filled that office for her own child, for thirty years.

Susan and Stephanie have become acquainted and had a few heart-to-heart chats over time, and Susan has been a help to Stephanie.

So now we'll see if I can convince Melanie to engage in some creative play time after our chores are completed.

Wish me luck.

And that is all for now except to say, what are you up to?

=0=0=0=

Happy Monday

Virginia sojourn

New Market Battlefield

TG and I have been busy tripping and falling.

As in, we took a fall trip. We've been home for over a week, but in the interim we had a houseguest.

Now I want my own farm in the Shenandoah Valley

Naturally, we were not able to travel to better fall foliage country during peak leaf time. That happy coincidence generally eludes us.

BUT we did go, and it was fall, and there were leaves, and many of them were very beautiful indeed.

It was gorgeous from every angle

Where did the Pirate go? you may be asking yourself at this juncture.

We went to Virginia and points north. I will tell you about it in this and the next several posts.

Sara loves critters, both inside and outside

Let's start with Virginia -- specifically, the Shenandoah Valley.

We went there to visit my old friend Sara and her husband Marty.

If you want homey and inviting, this is it

I first met Sara in 1978 when she was a newlywed (not to Marty; that/he came later) and I was almost engaged, and then engaged, to TG.

We both worked at a ladies' apparel store named Evans, located in Southlake Mall in Merrillville, Indiana.

We talked about sitting by the fire pit one night but we never did it

Sara worked in the office, in bookkeeping, and I worked on the sales floor.

So then, I got married and both Sara and I began having babies. We ended up with a total of ten: six for her and four for me.

Inside, Sara does farmhouse like nobody's business

I no longer worked at Evans after I got married, and neither did she after awhile, but we attended the same church.

Over the years, until Sara moved away around 1986, we hung out a lot. For example, we've taken many a shopping trip to Chicago.

If you know, you know.

Everywhere you looked there were charming collections

Often our men would take in a Chicago Cubs baseball game while we girls shopped, and we'd all meet up later for dinner.

Once, we two couples took a dinner cruise on Lake Michigan. I remember because I ended up with food poisoning.

Bovine units are a favorite motif

Sometimes, on summer nights, we'd all drive to Highland Park, north of Chicago, and attend a concert at Ravinia Festival -- a favorite place of mine still to this day.

We'd almost always take an elaborate picnic meal to eat as we sat on the lawn, complete with candles for our portable Crate & Barrel table, which came with its own carrying bag. Ours was white.

This sign was at one of the stores we shopped in

In the cold months, we got together for family meals and the occasional party with other friends.

I visited Sara a few times after she moved away, and once she came back to the region for a couple of days before we moved away, but until week before last, I had not seen her since 1991.

Here's where we had a lovely lunch

That's right! I had not laid eyes on my friend in person for over thirty years.

We kept in touch though, and always knew where each other were and how we were doing.

If you're looking for the nicest people in the world, here they are

Eleven years ago, Sara remarried. I was so happy for her, as she had been single for many years.

Let's pull over and park her for a mo.

Sara and me back in the day ... as in, 1988 ... as young wives and mothers

An interesting bit of trivia is that Sara's youngest, a daughter, a few years ago married the youngest son of my mother's doctor.

The meeting of Sara's daughter and my mother's doctor's son was sheer coincidence, in no way either linked to or facilitated by me, or as a result of Sara's and my friendship. 

The two kids were married before Mom got sick, hence before I even met my mom's doctor and his wife.

Sara and me now, as senior citizens and grandmothers

In fact, at bridal showers leading up to her wedding, Sara's daughter met and adored my mother, who never realized that the bride-to-be was the daughter of my lifelong friend.

(The doctor's wife/groom's mother, who was one of my mom's besties, believes that my mother never heard or read the bride's maiden name, or she would surely have recognized it.)

TG and me with Sara and Marty, who is a prince of a man

It's just one of those things. My mother's doctor and his wife have ended up being our friends too, as we became close during my mother's illness.

Back to the main story.

Me in the door of the smokehouse on the Bushong farm, beside the New Market Battlefield

Last January, Sara and Marty up and moved from where they lived in another state, to the Shenandoah Valley.

They purchased their dream dwelling: a circa-1887 Virginia farmhouse on several acres nestled between the Blue Ridge and Appalachian mountain ranges.

Sara has a room dedicated to Civil War memorabilia

Sara is skilled at decorating with antiques and the farm vibe, and she is devoted to that lifestyle. She even has three Angus cows: Daisy, Molly, and Bluebell.

They also have a dog, a German shepherd named Jovie. Jovie and I fell deeply in love during our visit.

Jovie, eyeballing the treat in my hand

We got to the farm around four o'clock in the afternoon on a gorgeous fall day, to find Sara and Marty sitting on their front porch awaiting our arrival.

Once we'd hugged it out with Sara and met Marty, and he had met us, we took a moment to absorb the beauty and peace of our surroundings.

Sara is partial to primitive decor

Then we went inside.

The house smelled like the succulent roast Sara was cooking, and everything looked just as I knew it would.

The parlor with its exposed beams and punched tin lamp

After a delicious home-cooked dinner, we sat around talking for hours.

The next day had been planned by our hosts for doing the kinds of things we all like to do: shopping, eating, and sightseeing. A liberal sprinkling of history was included, because all of us enjoy that.

If God is in the details, Sara has been deputized by the Almighty

Mainly we hung around in New Market, Virginia, where there is all of the above, and then some.

Lunch was at the Southern Kitchen.

Every corner held something interesting to look at

We toured the Virginia Museum of the Civil War and the New Market Battlefield.

Back at home in the late afternoon, Sara made another mouthwatering meal and, for dessert, served her homemade pecan and pumpkin pies.

Another one of those magnificent lamps

I have never tasted such pecan pie. I have asked for the recipe and am assured by Sara that she will share it with me.

More reminiscing followed, in Sara and Marty's comfortable and cozy living room (next to the parlor).

Time to say goodbye

One more sleep, and it was time to go.

After a few more hours of lively conversation over breakfast, TG and I took our leave.

Jovie, waiting for next time

We were assured that there would be a "next time" and I look forward fervently to that.

Maybe we will manage to go in peak leaf season.

Our next destination was special and poignant and I can't wait to share it with you.

Next time.

And that is all for now.

=0=0=0=

Happy Thursday

Going and doing and going some more

Baby Rhett on the apple-green bench on a recent perfect fall afternoon

What has the pirate been doing?

What has she NOT been doing?

That is the question.

Answer: very little.

Allow me to elaborate.

A week ago last Friday, some of us traipsed up and the rest of us traipsed down to the line where North Carolina and South Carolina meet, and had supper at the Cracker Barrel there.

It's where Essie works, but we were sad to discover that she was not on the premises that night.

They light the lanterns at this Cracker Barrel

(We asked after her and one of her colleagues called Essie to tell her we were there, and Essie instructed them to give me her phone number, which they did, and I texted to tell her that we love and miss her.)

No; it was not for a birthday that we met. This time, it was just to get together because the time was going to be so long between Labor Day, when we last got together, and Thanksgiving.

At Thanksgiving -- a month from today so you'd best be getting your recipes ready -- we will ALL be together. Every last one of us.

I can't wait. There will be pictures so don't spend any time worrying about missing out.

But a week ago Friday night we just wanted to hang out and talk and visit, so we did.

(It had been planned for two weeks earlier, but Hurricane Ian got in the way of that.)

TG inspecting the damage to Dagny's nose

I took only a few pictures, one of which is of TG inspecting Dagny's face because the day before, at recess, she had been hit on the bridge of her nose by a flying football.

No real harm done, but it left a mark.

Baby Rhett, who as of yesterday is fifteen months old, is marching all over the place. Has been for about three weeks. He knows several words too.

Cue the comments about how your children and/or grandchildren walked at four months and were speaking in full sentences at eight months.

I know that some children walk and talk earlier than others. All four of mine walked at exactly fourteen months. All of them cut teeth at exactly four months, so there's that.

I mean you can either be walking at six months without a tooth in your head, or wait until fourteen months and have a mouthful of choppers.

Allissa walked early and now has braces on her teeth

It's what's known as a tradeoff.

I do know that my kids started talking early and have not stopped since. They must take after me (I'm pretty sure I emerged from the womb uttering full sentences) because TG is the silent type.

Speaking of TG, he is suffering from what is for him a severe head and chest cold. He'll be better in a few days but he sounds awful. Thoughts and prayers appreciated.

The day after our meetup in Charlotte, we had another party planned.

First though, TG and me plus Cherica and Rhett plus Audag all showed up at our church for Community Outreach, which we have every other Saturday.

When that was over, us girls plus our friend Andrea, also from our church, headed over to Five Points and the Starbucks there.

We had each brought a gift and a card for our friend Andrea

The weather was sheer perfection. Warm but not hot, sunny, breezy, with low humidity.

I always say in the fall of the year, this is why people live in South Carolina. 

(We don't say that so much in the summer but nevertheless, that season has its own set of charms. Like when else is your pool water going to approach ninety degrees?)

Once at the venue, we enjoyed fancy coffee drinks and celebrated Andrea, who had turned forty-six the day before.

Andrea is special. She was born with a relatively rare genetic syndrome and still lives at home with her parents.

She is faithful to church and always sits with our family and in fact, she's sort of one of our family. We love her and she loves us and she's often invited to our parties.

Andrea and I posed beside the Five Points fountain

When the birthday festivities were concluded, we headed over to The Gourment Shop, across the street.

We were all looking around when someone put something into my hand. I looked down. It was this.

I was instantly smitten with the pan and started asking where in the store it had been found.

Someone pointed me in the right direction and I looked over the display and became smitten again, but this time with a different pan. TG ended up buying it for me, right then and there. It cost only about a dollar more than that discounted Amazon price.

Later that day he went to Kroger and bought me a can of Baker's Joy and a pound cake mix, and that night I made him a pound cake.

I was nervous about it coming out of the intricate pan but if you spray it well with Baker's Joy and then use a small silicone brush to push it around into all the nooks and crannies, the baked cake nearly jumps out onto the cooling rack.

Dagny marched into Starbucks with her mother's debit card and ordered her own drink

Although I had a scratchy throat which by the next day had turned into a cold, I had fun with my new pan.

Now I want an entire collection of fancy Nordic Ware pans because trust me: they are the best.

The next day, I was feeling so unwell that I had to stay home from church.

Monday (a week ago) I felt dreadful in the morning but better as the day wore on.

On Tuesday, TG and I set out at one o'clock in the afternoon for Hickory, North Carolina, to watch Allissa play in her last volleyball game of the season.

Her team lost that day but she looked good at the setter position. She's on the tall side for a fourteen-year-old.

My pound cake nearly jumped out of the Nordic Ware Jubilee loaf pan

Her mother tops out at five foot nine so I wouldn't be surprised if Allissa does the same.

We got home on the late-ish side that night, but we were glad we made the effort to see our granddaughter play a team sport.

Two days later -- last Thursday -- Erica and I set out at ten o'clock in the morning for Greenville, to have lunch with Henry.

I had not seen him since his ninetieth birthday party on August sixth.

I took along chicken salad that I put together that morning (using canned chicken), tomato soup made from scratch plus Jiffy corn muffins that I'd baked the day before, and a Meyer lemon pound cake that I'd whipped up the night before.

We arrived a little after noon and it wasn't long before I had lunch on the table. It was thoroughly enjoyed, and then it was time to dish up dessert.

I decorated with powdered sugar to show off the cake's intricate detail

Henry had vanilla bean ice cream in the freezer, so he made a pot of coffee and I portioned out the pound cake and Erica scooped up the ice cream.

If your mouth isn't watering, you have not been paying attention. Don't worry about what kind of loaf pan you own; just go get a Meyer lemon pound cake mix and some vanilla bean ice cream, and do likewise.

Don't forget to put the glaze on top. The confectioner's sugar is included in the box and all you have to do is add a tablespoon or so of milk.

You'll never say, I'm so sorry that I took the pirate's advice and did that.

Next on our agenda was a trip to Walmart in Travelers Rest so that I could buy flowers to put on my mother's grave.

(The next day, October twenty-first, would mark the two-year anniversary of her death.)

Mom would have been crazy about this baby boy

From there we drove seven or eight minutes to Coleman Cemetery, also in Travelers Rest, where she is buried. We placed the flowers and enjoyed the bright sunshine.

Baby Rhett had fallen asleep in the car and for a while he snoozed in his carseat with the doors open, but eventually he woke up and we let him toddle (carefully) around the gravesites.

Before leaving, we paid our respects at the graves of a few other folks we know, who are resting not far from Mom.

Back at Henry's crib, we hung out for about another half hour before Erica, Rhett, and I headed back to Columbia. We stopped for a spot of shopping in Greenville on the way, and arrived home at about six thirty.

I'd made a Shepherd's Pie for dinner the night before, and there was plenty left over for TG, so I didn't have to cook. Plus after leaving a sizeable hunk for Henry, I'd brought him back a thick slice of that pound cake.

The next day, in addition to being the anniversary of my mother's homegoing, was Brittany's birthday. She turned twenty-eight.

Andrew in the cockpit of the KC-135 Stratotanker

Several weeks ago, TG had gone to East Tennessee to do some painting in Andrew and Brittany's new house. She is living there now, waiting for Andrew to finish up his last few weeks of pilot training.

I'd sent her birthday present plus a housewarming gift with TG at that time, so she had it there to open on the day.

It was a pretty sweater dress and a necklace, and she texted me to say thank you and that she loved it.

On that same day, Andrew flew the KC-135 Stratotanker for the first time.

The last leg of his training, at Altus Air Force Base in Altus, Oklahoma, has been specifically to learn to fly the tanker. These are the planes that refuel other planes in flight, all over the world.

They are up in the sky even now, serving as flying filling stations so that military aviators can get from here to far-away there, and fulfill lengthy missions, without having to land for refueling.

It was a beautiful day to go fly a plane ... click to embiggen

Until last Friday, his tanker-flying training had consisted of work in the simulators. The sims are extremely realistic and obviously much cheaper than flying a Stratotanker.

But the very last phase consists of many hours spent in the cockpit, practicing taking off, flying, and landing the plane.

He was exhilarated with the experience and sent all of us several pictures and videos that night.

It's exciting. Every day as you go about your life, young men and women are serving our country in this way. I am more than a little in awe of them -- all of them, in all branches of the military, no matter what their job.

They are genuine American heroes.

Dagny posing with an eraser on her nose, in her studio art room at home

Dagny has started a YouTube channel called Dagny Clare's Art Club. Just so you know. I think that more artistic kids should do this. Instead of staring at a screen, be ON the screen -- being creative.

As I mentioned earlier, this past weekend TG came down with the cold from which I had just recovered.

He felt fine on Friday and Saturday (he had to feel fine on Friday because he played in a golf tournament), even getting about sixteen million acorns raked up from our yard.

But yesterday morning it was obvious (though he would not admit it because he is stubborn) that he was under the weather. He would not shake hands with anyone at church.

I told him when we got home at twelve thirty that he was going to rest for the remainder of the day, and that I would brook no argument and would hide his key fob if I had to.

Henry is doing well

He did not argue and he did rest.  think he'll soon be feeling much better.

Which is good because believe it or not, there is another adventure in the offing. I will bring you up to speed at the appropriate time.

And that is all for now except to say, I hope you have a happy week.

=0=0=0=

Happy Monday

You decorated my life

My pirate skeleton recently obtained an equally skeletal bride.

Do you remember that song? Kenny Rogers? Haaahaa.

Anyway.

Brittany and Ember stopped with us for the night last Friday, on their way from Florida to Tennessee.

This is Pepper. He's getting restless.

TG and I saw them during our March visit to Oklahoma and again in June at a wedding, but Audrey and Dagny and Erica and Chad had not seen them since last Christmas.

There were tears shed as everyone hugged it out.

Brittany was still heartbroken over the situation at her grandparents' house, and she'd had to say goodbye to them that morning, and had not been getting enough rest, and it was all a bit much. 

No more feathers, no more meat, but Cassius Crow is still pretty neat.

But everyone relaxed and Brittany told us about her hurricane adventures. I had made a big Crock Pot full of chili, so there was time to talk and just be together.

TG had gone with Dagny on a school field trip to Charleston that day (they toured the USS Yorktown), so we had to wait a little while for them to get home.

(After the school field trip was over, TG, who had driven separately, took Dagny to The Citadel to look around, and then to the home of his old basketball coach, who lives in the area.)

It wasn't chilly outside but we had chili inside.

It has continued warm and summery here, with cool nights and mornings, and lots of sun.

The leaves on our white oak in the front yard are beginning to change in earnest.

But you probably want to know about what is going on in Florida.

Brittany told us that Andrew, together with several men from the church where Brittany's grandfather is the pastor, had thrown themselves into gutting the house.

Go-withs include shredded cheddar, sour cream, and banana pepper rings.

First, everything had to be removed: every stick of furniture and every other soggy thing, is now out in the yard.

Brittany's grandmother, through frequent bouts of tears, was tasked with sorting her possessions, salvaging what she could and parting with what she could not.

Grandpa's late-model SUV was towed away, a total loss.

These are my only jack 'o lantern decorations. Boo.

People were (probably still are) cruising up and down the streets in pickup trucks, looking to haul off anything that has been brought out of houses, and maybe make a few dollars off it.

Brittany had to protect her grandmother's waterlogged and ruined furniture from disappearing, before they even knew whether there was any hope of saving it.

(The answer is, there probably isn't. Everything will have to be replaced. But still.)

Hop in and we'll go for a spin.

Of course, most of the neighbors are in the same position, what with the catastrophic flooding from a nearby canal having been pretty thorough and far-reaching.

At any rate by the time they had concluded what work they could do and Andrew had to leave to go back to Oklahoma, the four-bedroom ranch-style house was empty.

The hardwood floors had been removed and the bottom half of the drywall ripped out down to the studs.

And just like that, she was back in my arms.

Brittany sent me a video; the interior of the house looks like a partial cage, with huge fans running to help with the drying process.

A contractor will still have to assess the foundation and the entire structure to determine whether it can be rebuilt.

Building supplies which were already expensive and in short supply before the hurricane, are even more so now.

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Insurance adjusters are reluctant to give anyone the great good news that they're hoping for.

The last I heard, power was still out and there was no running water.

I have asked Brittany to write a guest post on this blog, to tell about her experience with Hurricane Ian and the havoc it wrought in the lives of her grandparents.

Meet Jerome the Scented Gnome. He has no discernible smell.

Brittany was born in Fort Myers and grew up in that area, so it was hard for her to witness the destruction firsthand.

She said she would do her best to write about it, and I'll encourage her to follow through on that.

Meanwhile it is already ten eleven twenty-two, and I wonder if I have time to turn around twice before it's November.

If you visit before Thanksgiving, you will see this wreath on my door.

I need to show you my October decorations.

Notice I did not say Halloween decorations. I don't do Halloween but I love October decor because I like cemeteries and skeletons and skulls.

I like them year round but in October I let them all come out to play.

We just got these pumpkins and mums on Sunday.

TG said during dinner on October first: I see all the creepy stuff is here.

But it's not meant to be creepy! I said. It's supposed to be campy and funny. Not scary. He took it back.

(If you recall, I had the table decorated ultra-autumn for Labor Day. Those decorations stayed on display throughout September and will make their second appearance for the month of November -- or, until the day after Thanksgiving.)

The orange fairy lights look super cute at night.

(You know what happens the day after Thanksgiving.)

My October table runner is black with silver studs in a spider web design. I got the hearse at TJ Maxx several years ago.

Stephanie and her family gave me the pirate skeleton in 2020; I added his bride just this year, when I saw her at Kroger.

This lantern sits beside the front door. The "candle" lights up on a timer.

Isn't she darling, and are they not adorable together?

I have several sets of graveyard, skull, and skeleton salt and pepper shakers. You know: Here Lies Salt and Here Lies Pepper. Stuff like that.

The sugar skull S&P set was given to me by a friend, who also gave me the silver plastic skull drinking jug.

No bones about it: They were meant for each other.

The heavy clear glass skull, which holds a candle and glows ominiously, has been around for a long time.

Cassius Crow is a bird skeleton that chills in a hanging cage. He's cool.

There's a ceramic bucket, creamy white with black skulls all over it. It sits out on one of my island shelves year round.

Brittany, fresh from the hurricane relief effort.

I have two black pull-back cars, both Chevrolets -- a 1947 and a 1957 model. And yes, the grandkids take those down and play with them when they come over.

(I also have a fire-engine red car and a bright yellow one. We call them ketchup and mustard.)

Yes; you're right. I need a black Cadillac.

A friend got me this at the dollar store.

Speaking of black, there is a sparkly black raven. He's been around a while and is missing some toes but he's still in the game.

In the barest of nods to jack o' lanterns, I have a hollow ceramic pumpkin with the requisite triangle cut-out eyes and nose, that I sit on top of a candle. I bought it at Walgreens at least twenty-five years ago -- maybe longer. The sticker on top of the box it came in says it cost two ninety-nine.

A smaller scary-funny knick-knack depicting two little pumpkins sitting by a tree, also holds a candle.

Because everyone needs a skull pail.

This year I got three new gnomes. One set of two, a boy and a girl, I showed you a few weeks ago. I added Jerome the Scented Gnome and he sits in the wooden tray beside the autumn house and an owl salt shaker.

Have you discovered the salt and pepper shakers on sale in the Cracker Barrel general store? They are ninety-nine cents apiece and they have a bunch of them for every season.

That's where I get most of mine. They're basically irresistible. They make cute gifts too, when you want to give someone just a little something, or to tuck into a gift basket.

These sugar skull salt and pepper shakers contain neither salt nor pepper.

Outside, it's like this: on Sunday TG and I bought two pumpkins and a mum for the apple-green bench that sits beneath the oak tree.

Several weeks ago I found a very impressive lantern to sit beside the front door. It has a fake candle that lights up for five hours each night, on a timer. I love its big brass circle handle.

The black wrought-iron railing is spangled with orange fairy lights. It looks cute at night. We're the only ones on our street who have those.

You might say that I go nuts for skulls.

I was talking to Erica the other day about fall decorations and we were remembering that there was a time when -- for many years, actually -- I decorated for one season only: Christmas.

My house was always kitted out with stuff that (I hoped) was attractive and tasteful, but it was only at Christmastime that I brought out special decorations.

We decided that, pretty much before the year two thousand, fall decorations weren't as much of a thing. In the years since twenty-ten or so, websites like Pinterest and Instagram have helped to propel seasonal home decorating into the retail stratosphere.

There are orange fairy lights on the ledge too.

At any rate, the obsession with fall decorations is pretty intense and no doubt is big business.

All I know is that I like it. I like making a big deal out of all the seasons, especially in the areas of my house where everyone gathers when they come over.

Eventually, last Friday night, we devoured our chili supper with all the trimmings, and there was a key lime pie with a pot of coffee, afterwards.

Dagny loves this little house. I told her that after I am gone (for good), it's hers.

Following a good sleep and a quiet morning, Brittany and Ember left on Saturday a little after noon and made their way to East Tennessee and their new house.

They will be back for Thanksgiving, along with our Andrew.

And that will be here before any of us knows it.

And that is all for now.

=0=0=0=

Happy Tuesday

Ian rain

Skies above are blue again

Hurricane Ian gave us a lovely rainy day on Friday. I enjoyed every minute of it.

I feel guilty saying that; so many suffered and are still suffering, and will be for a long time.

Here, it rained steadily for about fifteen hours. Wind was not an issue and I don't know of anyone in our area who experienced property damage or flooding.

Brittany and Andrew drove twenty-two hours from West Oklahoma to South Florida, to help her grandparents. Andrew's military leadership gave their blessing to his being absent from training for a few days.

He will be flying back to Oklahoma tomorrow.

Brittany will stay on until the end of the week, and then drive with Ember to East Tennessee, where they have bought a house.

She'll set up housekeeping and wait for Andrew to finish training and be home in time for the holidays.

The situation with Brittany's grandparents is heartbreaking. They are not young people and this experience is overwhelming.

They need your prayers. Possibly the most urgent need right now is for power to be restored.

Here was my view for the duration of the storm on Friday. I will treasure the memory and I know how fortunate I am that it is a happy one.

And that is all for now.

=0=0=0=

Happy Monday :: Happy Week