Nothing was going to stop these geese, so I strung another, lower string this time, from one end of the pond to the other. They learned to go in between and fly over. I was at my wits end when I decided to call the state wildlife something. I got someone with a very southern accent...VERY, and told him of my dilemma. He asked if we lived on a lot of land...me being so literal and all I was visualizing the farm, and I responded, "Yes." And he said, "Can you shoot?" I responded, "Well, this is North Carolina," to which he responded, "No, I mean can you shoot on your land?" I assured him that would not be a consideration in this neighborhood, and I wasn't quite sure where he was going with his train of thought. He seemed to back down from the idea of me shooting them, and then told me how he and his buddy could come out here and take care of them and we'd never see the Lula Belle's and Billy Bob's ever again, "You know what I mean?" Oh yeah, I got the picture and just visualized them reeling them in and throwing them in trashcans and hauling them off, with the geese squawking and screaming, OR NOT. No, I decided I would try a few more things before I called them again.
I believe we are at Plan E by now. People took to asking me how the "Goose Situation" was coming, people I didn't know, and I started to become nervous, because someone in this frame of mind is first up in the news in Orlando. (The evening news usually started with the animal stories, and I just knew they would take the geese side over ours if the local affiliates ever got wind about what I was doing.)Someone suggested we get a pellet gun and just shoot around them and it would scare them away. That was going to be THE LAST resort, until one day I had had ENOUGH. I stormed in from the back porch and went straight to the garage. I picked up what I thought would do the trick and came back in and said, "OK, Randy, I've had enough. Where are the bullets?" He looked up from the newspaper he was reading, and said very matter-of-factly, "You're not going to get very far. That's a paint gun." I told him to find a gun out of all the "beginner's guns" Matthew had inherited from grandfathers that we kept hidden in the attic and would pass down to our grandchildren someday, and to find some bullets and then go shoot around them...NOT AT THEM. So he found Matthew's pellet gun, along with some pellets, and it really did scare them off, but we had to do it about twice a day, as they would fly out about 10 feet and wait for us to go back in and they'd hop right back up in our yard. It was obvious that they were toying with us, and were trying to use reversed psychology, making us emotionally crazy as I had done to them. (You really do reap what you sow.)
I probably became TOO verbal after that, because people started telling me ways they had heard to get rid of the geese. Plan F involved me going to Sam's and buying the bulk Alka-seltzer. I was told to dilute it and pour it along the shoreline. I tore into those individual wrappers like a dog with a bone, about 100 of them, and plopped, plopped, fizzed fizzed, Oh what a relief it is'd, until I had two huge containers of fizzing, bubbling water to pour about a foot above the water line. (I didn't worry about it making it to the fish because it was so diluted, and it was the Alka-seltzer that was supposed to do whatever it did to repel the geese on the surface.) I poured and poured and had to make some more. It really did seem to work, but as I had to tell my neighbor later on, it rained and the geese were back the next day, and I wasn't willing to do that particular plan again. (By the way, if you need any Alka-seltzers, I have plenty.)
I never made it to plan G. I was at the pool one day, and someone told me one of the geese had been killed accidentally, and ended with these words that were to haunt me until last week, when I heard an addendum to what I heard that day. (To back up, my first thought was, "Oh no. Did I kill it?" and "Can they trace it back to me?")Her words were, "You know they mate for life." No, I didn't know that. I couldn't get it out of my head how sad that must be to go the rest of your life doomed to never have a mate again. Your one true love gone forever. I wondered if they were in the early stages of their relationship or were in their twilight years, which was what I was hoping, but would never know. I came home from the pool and went straight to the back porch to look out to see if the geese were there. To my horror, there was only one goose there. It was the goose in mourning. I burst out crying, and would start up again, every time I looked out and it was there, all alone. I would just stand at the window and watch and pray that the other geese wouldn't black-ball it and it would be doomed to be a lone goose for the rest of its life. There was only one time that I recall that other geese tried to fly into our pond area at that time, and the single goose honked them away. Meditation: We all have our dark moments and just need time alone to recoup sometimes, even when others mean well and try to help. We just need to be respectful of each individual's needs
After about a week, the other geese did return and the loner would just hang out by itself on the outskirts of the flocks. I found myself counting geese everywhere I went to see if there were odd numbers of flocks and I always came up with an even number. It wasn't looking too bright for the single goose. I would see other single geese out and about in town, and started wondering if I maybe got them together, they could make a new policy on the "mate for life" rule. They could just be friends, couldn't they? Maybe nobody had ever tried before and didn't know what they would do if they were given a second chance!
There just didn't seem to be a way I could experiment with the geese, so I just watched and waited and kept counting, until one day, I got an odd number. I recounted those geese five times or more until I realized the goose was out of mourning and back with the flock. They would still swim in pairs, but the goose was obviously included back in. Meditation:"For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities--his eternal power and divine nature--have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse." (Romans 1:20) I also thought of the geese even living out Solomon's general observations in Ecclesiastes 3, entitled, "A Time for Everything." [There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance...]
Before I close I need to tell you what I found out last week that just made my week! I got it from goosehuntingtips.com. The male and female stay together all their life; it is one of their most natural Canada goose habits. If one should disappear the living Canada Goose generally finds another mate. Another interesting characteristic is that the family stays together for one year after the goslings are born. However, upon return to the breeding territory the goslings will leave the parents to fend for themselves.They will then fight for a mate and like the parents be with that mate for life. This is another natural of the many Canada goose habits."
See, there really was "nothing to fear, but fear itself." By the way...there's more.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Behold the Goose
One of the first things I loved doing when we first moved in was "Goose Watching." I would sit up in my office and gaze down to the pond and watch them congregate by the 100s. After watching for a long period of time I began to recognize their habits. Once it got warmer, they became very regimented. They were obviously getting ready to migrate, because they would have whole days of practicing take-offs; another day they would practice landings. It seemed as though there was a whole day put aside for each focus: eating, bathing/cleaning, fighting, and formations. I wish I had written down "The Priority for the Day." It would have been interesting to see if they did the same thing every day of the week. (I will try to do that this winter.)
Spring was obviously bursting forth, and one day I heard a cacophony coming from up above. I realized that the migration had begun, and even got to see the migrating geese take off in large numbers, circling back around to give the farewell dip before they headed north. I wondered why there were still others sitting on the pond, and assumed the flocks all had their own pilots who determined such things. But summer came and they stayed.
The geese who had looked so beautiful from afar, took on a new light when viewed pond-side in the light of spring and summer. They pooped at a rapid rate of green; multiplied by groups of 22, it seemed, per flock. Our back yard became a health hazard to the dog (Who would think she would like goose poo?) and a minefield to Randy and I as we searched for "clean" grass to step on. Evening pond walks took on a whole new look. Anyone watching us would think we were playing the game TWISTER without bending, or asking, "Mother, may I?" as we took giant steps to the next clear area.
I decided these lazy geese had to go from our backyard. I could tolerate the ones who came and left, but not these. Spring was here and summer was coming, and it would be a long time until fall came again, and they could hook up with the responsible geese again. Dire times call for drastic measures. I decided I would send Mollie, our dog, on a wild goose chase. She learned quickly, that when I let her out and whispered, "Go get 'em," to run to the edge of the pond and scare them into the water. That lasted about 2 days, but I didn't know that. I thought, "That was pretty easy. They know we have a dog now. They won't come back."
Silly me. They eventually walked to the water and would step in and honk at her and spread their wings. I became fearful that they would attack her, but so far, so good, because I warn them she is coming now. I stand on the balcony and scream, "Shoo, Geese, Shoo," at the top of my lungs. (I can't even imagine what the neighbors must think.) That stopped working too, so I had to go to plan C. Randy and I hauled huge rocks from a neighborhood rock pile (We got permission first.) and bordered the whole pond with them. I figured the geese wouldn't be able to step up. (We didn't think WE were ever going to be able to step up again after hauling all those rocks.)I was right, they didn't step up...they hopped up. I began to take it personally.
Plan D was obvious--buy some string and string up a line right at the rock line from one end of the property to the other. I didn't want to have to do it twice so I got hot pink string. The first goose chase with Mollie put them in a tither. They couldn't think fast enough to go under the string, so they had to fly over it. There were so many at one point, though, they couldn't fly all at once, and some ducked under. I went out a few days later and to my horror, there were goose feathers all over the yard. I figured a coyote must have gotten hold of a bunch of them, but all I saw were feathers, no body parts. (We know there are coyotes here because we were awakened one night that first spring to howling and squawking. It was horrible. I don't think Randy and I went back to sleep that night. It was the eeriest sound we have ever heard. The coyotes had found the goose eggs. It's survival of the fittest, so we were glad nature was taking care of itself.)
I was starting to feel sorry for them, because I figured all my master-minding had upset their emotional health, and maybe they were going to think they shouldn't stay in our yard. (I found out they molt all their feathers at once and produce new ones for the next migration.)I didn't want all those feathers to go to waste, so I picked the largest ones up with a glove on both hands, and tied them on the pink string at about 3 foot intervals. My thinking was that they would see the feathers and think, "We'd better not go there. Look what happened to the last goose who did. She obviously made an example out of them."
I am going to stop here for the night, because this is a long story; therefore there are a few meditations that came out of this and I cannot rush, so bear with me, and please do not send me all the ways to get rid of the geese. I need to let you know I am a goose advocate now. Will explain more tomorrow. In the meantime, the "Word for the blog for the day," is "cacophony" n. (ca-cof e ne) Jarring, discordant sound; dissonance. (I loved the comment yesterday. I still am trying not to feel guilty for just browsing in a bookstore and enjoying it so much. It's hard to break old habits.)
Spring was obviously bursting forth, and one day I heard a cacophony coming from up above. I realized that the migration had begun, and even got to see the migrating geese take off in large numbers, circling back around to give the farewell dip before they headed north. I wondered why there were still others sitting on the pond, and assumed the flocks all had their own pilots who determined such things. But summer came and they stayed.
The geese who had looked so beautiful from afar, took on a new light when viewed pond-side in the light of spring and summer. They pooped at a rapid rate of green; multiplied by groups of 22, it seemed, per flock. Our back yard became a health hazard to the dog (Who would think she would like goose poo?) and a minefield to Randy and I as we searched for "clean" grass to step on. Evening pond walks took on a whole new look. Anyone watching us would think we were playing the game TWISTER without bending, or asking, "Mother, may I?" as we took giant steps to the next clear area.
I decided these lazy geese had to go from our backyard. I could tolerate the ones who came and left, but not these. Spring was here and summer was coming, and it would be a long time until fall came again, and they could hook up with the responsible geese again. Dire times call for drastic measures. I decided I would send Mollie, our dog, on a wild goose chase. She learned quickly, that when I let her out and whispered, "Go get 'em," to run to the edge of the pond and scare them into the water. That lasted about 2 days, but I didn't know that. I thought, "That was pretty easy. They know we have a dog now. They won't come back."
Silly me. They eventually walked to the water and would step in and honk at her and spread their wings. I became fearful that they would attack her, but so far, so good, because I warn them she is coming now. I stand on the balcony and scream, "Shoo, Geese, Shoo," at the top of my lungs. (I can't even imagine what the neighbors must think.) That stopped working too, so I had to go to plan C. Randy and I hauled huge rocks from a neighborhood rock pile (We got permission first.) and bordered the whole pond with them. I figured the geese wouldn't be able to step up. (We didn't think WE were ever going to be able to step up again after hauling all those rocks.)I was right, they didn't step up...they hopped up. I began to take it personally.
Plan D was obvious--buy some string and string up a line right at the rock line from one end of the property to the other. I didn't want to have to do it twice so I got hot pink string. The first goose chase with Mollie put them in a tither. They couldn't think fast enough to go under the string, so they had to fly over it. There were so many at one point, though, they couldn't fly all at once, and some ducked under. I went out a few days later and to my horror, there were goose feathers all over the yard. I figured a coyote must have gotten hold of a bunch of them, but all I saw were feathers, no body parts. (We know there are coyotes here because we were awakened one night that first spring to howling and squawking. It was horrible. I don't think Randy and I went back to sleep that night. It was the eeriest sound we have ever heard. The coyotes had found the goose eggs. It's survival of the fittest, so we were glad nature was taking care of itself.)
I was starting to feel sorry for them, because I figured all my master-minding had upset their emotional health, and maybe they were going to think they shouldn't stay in our yard. (I found out they molt all their feathers at once and produce new ones for the next migration.)I didn't want all those feathers to go to waste, so I picked the largest ones up with a glove on both hands, and tied them on the pink string at about 3 foot intervals. My thinking was that they would see the feathers and think, "We'd better not go there. Look what happened to the last goose who did. She obviously made an example out of them."
I am going to stop here for the night, because this is a long story; therefore there are a few meditations that came out of this and I cannot rush, so bear with me, and please do not send me all the ways to get rid of the geese. I need to let you know I am a goose advocate now. Will explain more tomorrow. In the meantime, the "Word for the blog for the day," is "cacophony" n. (ca-cof e ne) Jarring, discordant sound; dissonance. (I loved the comment yesterday. I still am trying not to feel guilty for just browsing in a bookstore and enjoying it so much. It's hard to break old habits.)
Thursday, October 22, 2009
The Reason for the Season
Our first Christmas here at Brookberry Farm was a life-saver for me. It took my mind off of myself. I have learned that when a person starts to focus too much on themselves, unless they are trying to sort through giving up an unwanted personality trait like selfishness, etc., then they could be getting ready to step into the "depths of despair," we've all heard about. It doesn't take long go get to the "depth" part, which usually entails just putting your foot into the hole to begin with. It often starts with a thought, and peering into the "What if?" and then before you know it, you are swirling through the tunnel with all the mud and rocks around you, and wondering, "What am I going to do now?" I say this because there were years where I was singing right along with Elvis that I was going to have a "Blue Christmas." And I did. I let the hurry-scurry of the holidays deplete my joy. I was too tired to be happy. In fact, there was one Christmas where I hurriedly fixed Christmas Eve dinner for everyone, herded them into the car to go to the Christmas Eve service, and sat fuming in my seat, saying, "I hate Christmas," to myself. Our pastor looked back at me sitting in my sulkiness and mouthed, "Are you OK?" Every part of my body yelled, "NO," as my mouth formed the word. In fact, I couldn't wait for Christmas to be over, because if "Jesus was the reason for the season," I was not seeing Him anywhere, so why bother?
I've since realized that my expectations for myself and others were way too high. Everything does not have to be perfect. Go with the flow and you will be a happier person. Have you ever gone down "The Lazy River" at a water park? (The word "lazy" is what entices me, because it insinuates no responsibility on my part.) What's the point? You let the flow of the water take you wherever it will because you know there is a force that carries you and you will eventually end up right where you started, or you can even just keep on going, and can hop out wherever you want. You may bump into a few people, but nobody's yelling at you, because they all know that the current affects each one of us. It's a journey. Why not just do what you can to maneuver your inner tube, out of kindness to others, and then enjoy the ride?
I've got another saying on my wall right below the pictures of Leah and Matthew upstairs, which reminds me not to worry about them down in Florida. It says, "Life is a journey and only God holds the map." It used to say, "and only you hold the map." That is a terrifying thought to me...that I would be solely responsible for my future. I AM totally responsible for my actions, but I am so thankful that I KNOW who holds the map.
We had a marvelous time together that first Christmas here in Winston Salem, but it just went too fast, and our children were back in Florida before we knew it. Connie & Larry stayed an extra day, so we took them to see one our many North Carolina wineries. If you've never been to one and want to just drive up and look, it's OK. We've done it many times. The vistas are absolutely beautiful, especially in the summer when the grapes, in all their luxuriance, are hanging on happily to their vines, anticipating there is a greater purpose than for others to just behold their beauty. They are ripe for the harvest, and therefore ready to fulfill their purpose for being. Meditation: We have to remember that the grape is not evil in and of itself, but the magnitude of its use is what we must consider. Eating too many grapes or too much grape jelly or jam (sugar) is not good for anyone, especially a diabetic, or someone who is overweight. The same with wine and grape juice, or anything else for that matter. These things may make you ill, as can anything in excess. This is an area where each person must look within to determine what is best for them. Abstinence may even be your path, and that's never a bad thing if it keeps you healthy and out of trouble. I challenge you to give yourself a healthy once-over to see if there is anything that has an excessive hold on you. It may not even have anything to do with what you eat or drink, but may concern how you think and act. If you find something, turn in the other direction and walk away from the hole. You won't regret it.
I've since realized that my expectations for myself and others were way too high. Everything does not have to be perfect. Go with the flow and you will be a happier person. Have you ever gone down "The Lazy River" at a water park? (The word "lazy" is what entices me, because it insinuates no responsibility on my part.) What's the point? You let the flow of the water take you wherever it will because you know there is a force that carries you and you will eventually end up right where you started, or you can even just keep on going, and can hop out wherever you want. You may bump into a few people, but nobody's yelling at you, because they all know that the current affects each one of us. It's a journey. Why not just do what you can to maneuver your inner tube, out of kindness to others, and then enjoy the ride?
I've got another saying on my wall right below the pictures of Leah and Matthew upstairs, which reminds me not to worry about them down in Florida. It says, "Life is a journey and only God holds the map." It used to say, "and only you hold the map." That is a terrifying thought to me...that I would be solely responsible for my future. I AM totally responsible for my actions, but I am so thankful that I KNOW who holds the map.
We had a marvelous time together that first Christmas here in Winston Salem, but it just went too fast, and our children were back in Florida before we knew it. Connie & Larry stayed an extra day, so we took them to see one our many North Carolina wineries. If you've never been to one and want to just drive up and look, it's OK. We've done it many times. The vistas are absolutely beautiful, especially in the summer when the grapes, in all their luxuriance, are hanging on happily to their vines, anticipating there is a greater purpose than for others to just behold their beauty. They are ripe for the harvest, and therefore ready to fulfill their purpose for being. Meditation: We have to remember that the grape is not evil in and of itself, but the magnitude of its use is what we must consider. Eating too many grapes or too much grape jelly or jam (sugar) is not good for anyone, especially a diabetic, or someone who is overweight. The same with wine and grape juice, or anything else for that matter. These things may make you ill, as can anything in excess. This is an area where each person must look within to determine what is best for them. Abstinence may even be your path, and that's never a bad thing if it keeps you healthy and out of trouble. I challenge you to give yourself a healthy once-over to see if there is anything that has an excessive hold on you. It may not even have anything to do with what you eat or drink, but may concern how you think and act. If you find something, turn in the other direction and walk away from the hole. You won't regret it.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Last of the Foot News
I had my last doctor's visit today, in regard to the bunion removal. I had gotten a call on Friday that my sweet doctor was not going to be available for a while, so I looked forward to meeting his son. He didn't look a thing like his dad, but he sure did have his bedside manner...attentive and kind. They x-rayed my foot and I could hardly see where the break was, even though the two pins they inserted were quite apparent. My foot looks all flaky and great. They both look like twins again, albeit fraternal ones. Dr. M., Jr. said I could go into a real tennis shoe on Friday. He suggested a good brand, and off I went to Dick's for a proper shoe. (By the way, everyone needs an arch, so invest in a podiatrist's opinion if you are having any foot pain. You won't regret it.)
I told him my other foot had hurt far more than the surgeried one ever did, and pointed to where I thought the tumor must be. I even went so far as to tell him that a quick zap with a laser would pulverize it and I didn't care if the minuscule pieces found their homes in my surrounding tissue. One difference between he and his dad...he didn't appear to have the same sense of humor Dad had. He suggested a shot instead, but quickly assured me that I wouldn't feel a thing, as he was going to cool it down first. He did, and after he had leaned my chair back so I couldn't watch, he s l o w l y injected the medication into my heel, and found out more than he wanted to know about our children. (He asked, mind you. I didn't just start talking about our kids!)
The good thing is I really had some good stuff to tell him...Matthew's appointment to the Student Government Association as a Justice (Seat # 4) at University of Central Florida, and Leah's just-hot-off-the-press announcement that she will be leaving for Singapore in early December to help open the new Universal Studios there. She'll be there through the end of March and we are all quite excited about it. I guess I am probably most excited about the fact that we will all get to spend Thanksgiving up in GA this year; something we haven't done in a long time. We will celebrate Christmas early and exchange phone calls probably A LOT!
To change the subject, it's cold in Winston Salem now that the darkness has come. We are expecting a frost here tonight; therefore I had to bring in orchids, and a variety of other tropical plants that I have placed all over the yard. We are expecting it to get down to 34 degrees tonight, but you wouldn't have known that on the walk I took with Mollie just 2 hours ago. The best way to describe the weather is it feels exactly equidistant from winter, into fall and spring. Do you know what I'm talking about? In the fall it feels like the beginning of winter, and at the epicenter of winter, this day is equidistant from spring. If you don't get it, I could explain it, but if you don't get it then it doesn't really matter. It does to me. I remember doing my water aerobics into late September down in Florida. Every early fall prior to our last fall there, I would sense a time where the thermostat had changed from the day/week before. The very last year we lived there, I remember sitting in the pool and saying out loud, "I just felt the thermostat change!" It was a marvelous experience and one I will never forget. Truly a flick of the switch. The light dims just a little, like a film has been placed over what we see, and the temperature lowers and dark and light grapple for who is going to win just a bit earlier. Check it out as spring approaches if you want to see for yourself. There are all kinds of things to look for, but I'd rather you discover them for yourself.
Randy's out in Branson, Missouri re-acquainting with old friends from all over the U.S., and beyond. He and a few others are receiving recognition for their part in starting food service theme-park yearly meetings years ago, that changed the face of how themeparks went from just hamburger and hotdog fare to hiring chefs and utilizing the culinary arts in their food service departments. I am very proud of him. They helped a lot of the small parks provide good food and effective managerial skills.
Speaking of which, one of our news channels suggested we "Shop the Triad," the name for our three adjacent cities: Winston Salem, Greensboro & Highpoint. (I hope.)Randy and I have felt more than ever that we need to support our local businesses. I want to challenge you to go offline between now and Christmas and shop locally if you can. I try to use every coupon that comes to this house that represents a small business, if I am in need of that business's services. I went to a small town store yesterday,with my coupon in hand, and the owner told me she was just trying to hold on to get through this quarter. I made my purchase, and promised to get the word out to shop at her establishment. If everyone just buys something small or recommends the business to another, it helps. The newscaster pointed out that it wasn't our large department stores that support our silent auctions, etc., that help profit our local charities, so we need to be cognizant of that. I know it's a Catch 22, but do your best, OK?
Phrase for the blog for the day: "Catch-22" (Taken from Widipedia) "a common idimoatic usage meaning 'a no-win situation" or a 'double bind' of any type. Read Joseph Heller's book of the same title for more examples and a good read.
I told him my other foot had hurt far more than the surgeried one ever did, and pointed to where I thought the tumor must be. I even went so far as to tell him that a quick zap with a laser would pulverize it and I didn't care if the minuscule pieces found their homes in my surrounding tissue. One difference between he and his dad...he didn't appear to have the same sense of humor Dad had. He suggested a shot instead, but quickly assured me that I wouldn't feel a thing, as he was going to cool it down first. He did, and after he had leaned my chair back so I couldn't watch, he s l o w l y injected the medication into my heel, and found out more than he wanted to know about our children. (He asked, mind you. I didn't just start talking about our kids!)
The good thing is I really had some good stuff to tell him...Matthew's appointment to the Student Government Association as a Justice (Seat # 4) at University of Central Florida, and Leah's just-hot-off-the-press announcement that she will be leaving for Singapore in early December to help open the new Universal Studios there. She'll be there through the end of March and we are all quite excited about it. I guess I am probably most excited about the fact that we will all get to spend Thanksgiving up in GA this year; something we haven't done in a long time. We will celebrate Christmas early and exchange phone calls probably A LOT!
To change the subject, it's cold in Winston Salem now that the darkness has come. We are expecting a frost here tonight; therefore I had to bring in orchids, and a variety of other tropical plants that I have placed all over the yard. We are expecting it to get down to 34 degrees tonight, but you wouldn't have known that on the walk I took with Mollie just 2 hours ago. The best way to describe the weather is it feels exactly equidistant from winter, into fall and spring. Do you know what I'm talking about? In the fall it feels like the beginning of winter, and at the epicenter of winter, this day is equidistant from spring. If you don't get it, I could explain it, but if you don't get it then it doesn't really matter. It does to me. I remember doing my water aerobics into late September down in Florida. Every early fall prior to our last fall there, I would sense a time where the thermostat had changed from the day/week before. The very last year we lived there, I remember sitting in the pool and saying out loud, "I just felt the thermostat change!" It was a marvelous experience and one I will never forget. Truly a flick of the switch. The light dims just a little, like a film has been placed over what we see, and the temperature lowers and dark and light grapple for who is going to win just a bit earlier. Check it out as spring approaches if you want to see for yourself. There are all kinds of things to look for, but I'd rather you discover them for yourself.
Randy's out in Branson, Missouri re-acquainting with old friends from all over the U.S., and beyond. He and a few others are receiving recognition for their part in starting food service theme-park yearly meetings years ago, that changed the face of how themeparks went from just hamburger and hotdog fare to hiring chefs and utilizing the culinary arts in their food service departments. I am very proud of him. They helped a lot of the small parks provide good food and effective managerial skills.
Speaking of which, one of our news channels suggested we "Shop the Triad," the name for our three adjacent cities: Winston Salem, Greensboro & Highpoint. (I hope.)Randy and I have felt more than ever that we need to support our local businesses. I want to challenge you to go offline between now and Christmas and shop locally if you can. I try to use every coupon that comes to this house that represents a small business, if I am in need of that business's services. I went to a small town store yesterday,with my coupon in hand, and the owner told me she was just trying to hold on to get through this quarter. I made my purchase, and promised to get the word out to shop at her establishment. If everyone just buys something small or recommends the business to another, it helps. The newscaster pointed out that it wasn't our large department stores that support our silent auctions, etc., that help profit our local charities, so we need to be cognizant of that. I know it's a Catch 22, but do your best, OK?
Phrase for the blog for the day: "Catch-22" (Taken from Widipedia) "a common idimoatic usage meaning 'a no-win situation" or a 'double bind' of any type. Read Joseph Heller's book of the same title for more examples and a good read.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Fast Forward to the Present For a Minute
What a mix of emotions these last two days have been. Yesterday was the funeral of one of our brave police officers who was killed in the line of duty. He and another officer were shot on October 7, in response to a domestic violence call at a local Bojangles restaurant. Sgt. Mickey Hutchens died this past Monday. It was very sad. His pastor said, "He was a great family man. He loved his children and his wife and his family. Mickey loved his family because he loved the Lord. He knew what love was."
There was a memorial service at Wait Chapel at Wake Forest University. Randy called while I was out, and during the service, and told me not to go toward 40 or Silas Creek due to the traffic. I was en route home and decided I could at least go OVER a bridge that would show the procession to the burial site. I just felt a need to pay my respects to his family and law-enforcement in general. I was amazed at how quickly I made my way to the bridge. NOTHING could have astounded and overwhelmed me more to look on both sides of the bridge and see police cars of every make and color with their blue lights flashing in silence. It was a steady stream as far as the eye could see in both directions. I've never seen anything like it. People were stopped on the other side and were paying their respects with their hands over their hearts. I just said a prayer for the families and added another prayer for the family of the man who shot them. My heart goes out to them every time I see them on the news. He was killed in the mayhem and they are left to clean up the mess on his part. As I looked at the stream of well-wishers, I couldn't help but hope that Winston Salem could be the first small/large town in the world to just say and mean, "We've had enough. We will no longer tolerate anything harmful to another. We will practice the Golden Rule: 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."
Today, on the other hand, just flipped the page to what makes Winston Salem a fun place to live. It was a beautiful overcast, cold, fall day. The Bowman Gray, Jr., estate on Brookberry Farm had an auction. It was open to the public and yours truly was there front and center. I arrived at 9:35 AM to see people milling about looking for a treasure they would hopefully take home. I registered and got my number, lucky 47, and couldn't wait for the bidding to start, which it did right after 10:00. The auctioneer started with the Bob Timberlake limited edition pictures in the sitting room and then went to other originals and the rugs. I raised my hand a few times to drive up the bids, and could have kicked myself a few times for not being THE LAST NUMBER. But who knew?
I started to get the hang of hearing the auctioneer's voice go into the final drone, and stopped living in the "you snooze, you lose" realm. There was a Limoge box that went for $5. and a Tiffany tray with beautiful tulips that went for $30. HELLO! Don't pity me, I'm slow, but I did finally get it. I got a set of brass andirons for the fireplace for $7., some Limoge and Royal Doulton coffeeware, four mahogany chairs for my game table upstairs, and Mrs. Gray's coffee carafes in which she served coffee and breakfast to her guests in bed when they visited. You know what I am going to be doing with them...you may not get breakfast in bed, but I sure will make an effort to have coffee at the door as you prepare to come upstairs or downstairs.
Randy stayed home until lunch time, then brought me a heavy jacket, chair, lunch and a coffee. A lot of the neighborhood showed up, but the women could not even fathom using the Porta-toilets, which I thought was hilarious. I am of pioneer stock and it sure comes in handy in times like this. Porta-toilets have come a long way, so girls, give it a try. You really don't know what you are missing...like that deviled egg tray that you've never seen another like anywhere.
Randy called right at the end...he's so intuitive, and made the 4 minute drive to the estate just as I was lifting OUR new game table chairs over the splitrail fence. I love this place and don't want to miss out on one opportunity of this fun adventure we are on. Beware future visitors...I will probably challenge you to a game of Scrabble. In the meantime internalize your new words and the word for the blog for the day (which I sometimes forget to put in) is: "satiated or sate;" [v.] both are generally interchangeable, and mean to satisfy an appetite or desire FULLY. Sentence: Winston Salem satiates my hunger for the arts and creativity. May the Lord satiate each one of you in ways that glorify Him and bless you and others. "Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen." Ephesians 3:20.
Oh, by the way. I have to tell you that my foot got a LOT of attention. People stopped me left and right wanting to know what had happened. (I'm telling you...these people are so darn nice.) I got to hear all their foot stories; some good and some just down-right horrible (like the lady who didn't get to shower for 2 years because her feet were in such a mess) and I even have a message for my sweet Dr. Welby look-alike on Monday, my last visit, you'll be happy to know. He will be getting asparagus in the spring as soon as it comes in. The auctioneer even said he liked my shoes, "by the way." I had on my new boot and a hot pink galosh. (It was only one.)I'll tell you, I'm going to have a hard time putting this foot in a shoe, so I may just extend the boot time a little. I'll keep you posted.
There was a memorial service at Wait Chapel at Wake Forest University. Randy called while I was out, and during the service, and told me not to go toward 40 or Silas Creek due to the traffic. I was en route home and decided I could at least go OVER a bridge that would show the procession to the burial site. I just felt a need to pay my respects to his family and law-enforcement in general. I was amazed at how quickly I made my way to the bridge. NOTHING could have astounded and overwhelmed me more to look on both sides of the bridge and see police cars of every make and color with their blue lights flashing in silence. It was a steady stream as far as the eye could see in both directions. I've never seen anything like it. People were stopped on the other side and were paying their respects with their hands over their hearts. I just said a prayer for the families and added another prayer for the family of the man who shot them. My heart goes out to them every time I see them on the news. He was killed in the mayhem and they are left to clean up the mess on his part. As I looked at the stream of well-wishers, I couldn't help but hope that Winston Salem could be the first small/large town in the world to just say and mean, "We've had enough. We will no longer tolerate anything harmful to another. We will practice the Golden Rule: 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."
Today, on the other hand, just flipped the page to what makes Winston Salem a fun place to live. It was a beautiful overcast, cold, fall day. The Bowman Gray, Jr., estate on Brookberry Farm had an auction. It was open to the public and yours truly was there front and center. I arrived at 9:35 AM to see people milling about looking for a treasure they would hopefully take home. I registered and got my number, lucky 47, and couldn't wait for the bidding to start, which it did right after 10:00. The auctioneer started with the Bob Timberlake limited edition pictures in the sitting room and then went to other originals and the rugs. I raised my hand a few times to drive up the bids, and could have kicked myself a few times for not being THE LAST NUMBER. But who knew?
I started to get the hang of hearing the auctioneer's voice go into the final drone, and stopped living in the "you snooze, you lose" realm. There was a Limoge box that went for $5. and a Tiffany tray with beautiful tulips that went for $30. HELLO! Don't pity me, I'm slow, but I did finally get it. I got a set of brass andirons for the fireplace for $7., some Limoge and Royal Doulton coffeeware, four mahogany chairs for my game table upstairs, and Mrs. Gray's coffee carafes in which she served coffee and breakfast to her guests in bed when they visited. You know what I am going to be doing with them...you may not get breakfast in bed, but I sure will make an effort to have coffee at the door as you prepare to come upstairs or downstairs.
Randy stayed home until lunch time, then brought me a heavy jacket, chair, lunch and a coffee. A lot of the neighborhood showed up, but the women could not even fathom using the Porta-toilets, which I thought was hilarious. I am of pioneer stock and it sure comes in handy in times like this. Porta-toilets have come a long way, so girls, give it a try. You really don't know what you are missing...like that deviled egg tray that you've never seen another like anywhere.
Randy called right at the end...he's so intuitive, and made the 4 minute drive to the estate just as I was lifting OUR new game table chairs over the splitrail fence. I love this place and don't want to miss out on one opportunity of this fun adventure we are on. Beware future visitors...I will probably challenge you to a game of Scrabble. In the meantime internalize your new words and the word for the blog for the day (which I sometimes forget to put in) is: "satiated or sate;" [v.] both are generally interchangeable, and mean to satisfy an appetite or desire FULLY. Sentence: Winston Salem satiates my hunger for the arts and creativity. May the Lord satiate each one of you in ways that glorify Him and bless you and others. "Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen." Ephesians 3:20.
Oh, by the way. I have to tell you that my foot got a LOT of attention. People stopped me left and right wanting to know what had happened. (I'm telling you...these people are so darn nice.) I got to hear all their foot stories; some good and some just down-right horrible (like the lady who didn't get to shower for 2 years because her feet were in such a mess) and I even have a message for my sweet Dr. Welby look-alike on Monday, my last visit, you'll be happy to know. He will be getting asparagus in the spring as soon as it comes in. The auctioneer even said he liked my shoes, "by the way." I had on my new boot and a hot pink galosh. (It was only one.)I'll tell you, I'm going to have a hard time putting this foot in a shoe, so I may just extend the boot time a little. I'll keep you posted.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
The Excitement of the Holidays
We arrived in Winston Salem one cold and frosty morn. I just like the way that sounds, but it's true. We got in about 1:30 AM on October 30. For whatever reason, I had pillows and blankets in our car, possibly from spending the night at our children's condo the night before. We had told Peggy and Jonathan that we would be coming in and they were fine with it. The porch light was on, as was the heat, and there was orange juice and muffins for breakfast the next morning. Just another indication of how thoughtful these Winston Salemites are.
We walked the house in wonder one last time before going to bed, not believing it was finished and we were finally there. We decided to sleep up in the library because the floor looked so inviting. Mollie was thrilled to have us on her level. We awoke to something that we had not experienced too much in all our years of living in Florida...frost! I barely had Mollie, who was in my arms, out the door before everything on her started to tremble. She was just a black mass of shaking fur as the cold took the breath from both of us. I put her down and heard the crunch of ice as she struggled to find a place to potty. It was Halloween.
We spent the day buying essentials and I anxiously anticipated giving out candy on our first Halloween night. We looked out the window at one point and all the little trick-or-treaters were by-passing our house, even though I had every light on inside and out. We were truly lit up like a jack-0-lantern...empty on the inside, but with lots of light flowing out. I finally ran out into the driveway and yelled, "We may not have furniture, but we do have CANDY!" That's all it took; we were on the way to meeting our new neighbors.
The movers arrived bright and early the next day and all went well. I told Randy to make sure all the Christmas trees were convenient, along with all the fall decorations, because I had a plan. It involved buying a new dining room suit. It's like I told Randy when we gave Leah our old one. "I settled before because of price. We're buying for life now and I want mahogany." You do know that NC is the furniture capital of the world, right? We went to Boyles Furniture Store and I found just what I was looking for after having looked for weeks and not seeing just what I wanted. We purchased a table,10 Chippendale chairs, a china cabinet, and a sideboard, which now sits in the entry way. "By the way," I told the saleslady, "I need it by Thanksgiving," which was a week away. She looked at me as though I had just grown 2 more sets of ears. She wasn't going to make any promises, but she'd do the best she could, she told us. You see my sister, Linda, was coming with her family and grandchildren, along with my sister, Pam, and her daughter. I wanted everything to be perfect because Thanksgiving had always been in GA while my mother was alive, and this was the first time we would be getting together since her death. I wanted it to be a true THANKSGIVING.
I decorated the house for fall, and had decided that we would eat on the breakfast table and bring in a patio table if we had to, but, much to my surprise, the table and chairs came moments before everyone arrived. I had baked and planned menus in between unpacking and hanging pictures, so we were pretty much ready to entertain. I have to tell you that having my family walk through the doors reminded me of what my mother must have felt as we all gathered together at her house every Thanksgiving. It brings tears to my eyes as I write this because I had never seen it from her perspective. I was too busy anticipating family dynamics going awry and wanting to get back to my little safe-haven in Florida even before we had arrived. This was one of my first "meditations:" negative thoughts often become self-fulfilling realities; therefore I was going to see to it that everyone was going to be allowed the freedom to do what they wanted while there that would fit their personality or "bent."
I decided to put it in action right after we ate our Thanksgiving dinner. I happily declared that anyone who wanted could help decorate the Christmas tree that Randy had ready and waiting in the garage. Needless to say, the kids couldn't wait. (That didn't last long, but we had Play Mobile toys and other fun "new things" to capture their attention.) Linda had brought her monogramming machine and was busily monogramming bath towels for our bathrooms as a housewarming gift. Pam and Laurie, and Leigh, Linda's daughter, helped with the tree, and Randy stood ready to help when needed with David downstairs, who was watching a game.
I can still recall the magic that enveloped the house as the Christmas music played; the fireplace and Christmas lights added an extra warmth to the great room that was already warmed by our familial connectedness. There was a feeling of contentment. Laurie and Leigh stopped decorating at one point and went into the kitchen to make hot chocolate "concoctions" as they called them. Pam and I talked about our most favorite Christmas memories since we were closest in age, and Linda just kept on sewing. Her two grandchildren, T.J. and Erin wandered in an out and kept us entertained. I want to tell my mother that I get it now, and trust that because she now has a heavenly perspective, that she is praying for me, my sisters, our children, and grandchildren...praying that we will teach and model to them the things that are truly important in life...and that is relationships, and that we will meet others where they are rather than try to put them where we want them to be. And that's harder than it sounds. Happy 61st Birthday, Linda. I love you.
We walked the house in wonder one last time before going to bed, not believing it was finished and we were finally there. We decided to sleep up in the library because the floor looked so inviting. Mollie was thrilled to have us on her level. We awoke to something that we had not experienced too much in all our years of living in Florida...frost! I barely had Mollie, who was in my arms, out the door before everything on her started to tremble. She was just a black mass of shaking fur as the cold took the breath from both of us. I put her down and heard the crunch of ice as she struggled to find a place to potty. It was Halloween.
We spent the day buying essentials and I anxiously anticipated giving out candy on our first Halloween night. We looked out the window at one point and all the little trick-or-treaters were by-passing our house, even though I had every light on inside and out. We were truly lit up like a jack-0-lantern...empty on the inside, but with lots of light flowing out. I finally ran out into the driveway and yelled, "We may not have furniture, but we do have CANDY!" That's all it took; we were on the way to meeting our new neighbors.
The movers arrived bright and early the next day and all went well. I told Randy to make sure all the Christmas trees were convenient, along with all the fall decorations, because I had a plan. It involved buying a new dining room suit. It's like I told Randy when we gave Leah our old one. "I settled before because of price. We're buying for life now and I want mahogany." You do know that NC is the furniture capital of the world, right? We went to Boyles Furniture Store and I found just what I was looking for after having looked for weeks and not seeing just what I wanted. We purchased a table,10 Chippendale chairs, a china cabinet, and a sideboard, which now sits in the entry way. "By the way," I told the saleslady, "I need it by Thanksgiving," which was a week away. She looked at me as though I had just grown 2 more sets of ears. She wasn't going to make any promises, but she'd do the best she could, she told us. You see my sister, Linda, was coming with her family and grandchildren, along with my sister, Pam, and her daughter. I wanted everything to be perfect because Thanksgiving had always been in GA while my mother was alive, and this was the first time we would be getting together since her death. I wanted it to be a true THANKSGIVING.
I decorated the house for fall, and had decided that we would eat on the breakfast table and bring in a patio table if we had to, but, much to my surprise, the table and chairs came moments before everyone arrived. I had baked and planned menus in between unpacking and hanging pictures, so we were pretty much ready to entertain. I have to tell you that having my family walk through the doors reminded me of what my mother must have felt as we all gathered together at her house every Thanksgiving. It brings tears to my eyes as I write this because I had never seen it from her perspective. I was too busy anticipating family dynamics going awry and wanting to get back to my little safe-haven in Florida even before we had arrived. This was one of my first "meditations:" negative thoughts often become self-fulfilling realities; therefore I was going to see to it that everyone was going to be allowed the freedom to do what they wanted while there that would fit their personality or "bent."
I decided to put it in action right after we ate our Thanksgiving dinner. I happily declared that anyone who wanted could help decorate the Christmas tree that Randy had ready and waiting in the garage. Needless to say, the kids couldn't wait. (That didn't last long, but we had Play Mobile toys and other fun "new things" to capture their attention.) Linda had brought her monogramming machine and was busily monogramming bath towels for our bathrooms as a housewarming gift. Pam and Laurie, and Leigh, Linda's daughter, helped with the tree, and Randy stood ready to help when needed with David downstairs, who was watching a game.
I can still recall the magic that enveloped the house as the Christmas music played; the fireplace and Christmas lights added an extra warmth to the great room that was already warmed by our familial connectedness. There was a feeling of contentment. Laurie and Leigh stopped decorating at one point and went into the kitchen to make hot chocolate "concoctions" as they called them. Pam and I talked about our most favorite Christmas memories since we were closest in age, and Linda just kept on sewing. Her two grandchildren, T.J. and Erin wandered in an out and kept us entertained. I want to tell my mother that I get it now, and trust that because she now has a heavenly perspective, that she is praying for me, my sisters, our children, and grandchildren...praying that we will teach and model to them the things that are truly important in life...and that is relationships, and that we will meet others where they are rather than try to put them where we want them to be. And that's harder than it sounds. Happy 61st Birthday, Linda. I love you.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
The Journey Begins
Most of the writings you will read initially are taken from my journal that I kept to chronicle our transition from Windermere, Florida to Winston Salem, North Carolina. A day in April, 2007, was my first entry.
I need to confess right off the bat that I did not originally want to live at Brookberry Farm. I thought we would be living on a farm for sure, but the 2-acre lots with houses we had looked at in and around Winston Salem did not seem to be in enough “screaming distance” if I ever needed a neighbor, so that idea was squelched quickly. The search was on.
Our realtor, Peggy Gheesling, a wonderful lady who looks like a more mature Julia Roberts to me, kept taking us out to Brookberry Farm to look at one specific lot over and over. (Randy, and our daughter Leah, had already visited Brookberry in its early phase, and kept saying it was the best place for me.) Lot 94 was on one of the 3 ponds and had more privacy than most of the houses, which was important to me. We had paid 3 visits to Winston Salem with the thought of finding our dream home before leaving each time. I found one existing house on a small lake in a neighborhood farther out, on our first visit, and even though it was not exactly what I was looking for, I was willing to settle because it would do and I loved the property it was on. Two Adirondack chairs sat at the edge of the lake and I could just picture Randy and I sitting there at the close of day watching the fish jump. We were not in the position to buy, and it sold quickly, so I just looked heavenward and said, “Now what? You know that’s the only house I liked, Lord.”
We were on our third visit and our last day when I woke up with such a feeling of despair. I started crying as I told Randy maybe we shouldn’t look here anymore. Maybe God didn’t want us to live in Winston Salem. I was getting a little cranky at Peggy and Randy for continually suggesting we go back to Brookberry Farm. At one point, Peggy told me it was the best place for someone like me…someone who enjoyed being with people and liked to stay active. There was a clubhouse, a barn for large functions, an exercise facility and soon to be pool and summerhouse, along with tennis courts…and about 800 more houses. It just seemed too crowded already, even though the houses were few in number at that point. (In retrospect, I see that Randy and Peggy knew me better than I knew myself. I can label it now...an extreme aversion to anything that smacked of authority...a remnant of my childhood that was driving the bus at that point.)
As life would have it, Peggy had made an appointment with the builder, Jonathan Lee. He already knew the house was going to be in the Fall Parade of Homes, and that it was going to be a Southern Living plan. We walked over to the clubhouse to meet with him, his wife and terrific designer, Alicia, and her mother Betsy, also a very talented designer. We could not believe our eyes as we walked into the conference room. They had laid out every visual they could for every room in the house. There was the wood flooring, the color of the walls for each room, the wood the built-ins would be constructed from, pictures of the appliances, the tile, you name it. They even had fabric swatches of the shower curtain they were going to make for the upstairs bathroom and tablecloth for the table they were going to place in the house for the Parade date. Needless to say, Randy and I left there JUBILANT! (I really want to say, JUBILATED because it just seems to carry more long lasting energy than jubilant. It just kept on going like that little Energizer bunny.) I couldn’t wait to move into the house. I remember going down to the pond looking up and thinking, “Lord, let us live to see this house and enjoy sitting up on the porch and eating our meals and working in the yard.” The time passed quickly.
Let me digress even more and hopefully put this into better perspective about what prompted this quest for a house. We were new empty-nesters and had an opportunity to start a journey on a new path that would lead us away from Florida, our heart of homes. This crossroads that was going to determine our future, came while I was sitting at a well-known Florida resort, having tea with some friends from church. The phone rang and Randy proclaimed, “It’s ours!” meaning we were off on a new business venture. I told everyone the news and one of the lady’s asked, “So, what’s next?” I said without hesitation, “I don’t know. I’m only prayed up to today.” On the way home, I could hardly contain my excitement. I didn’t hesitate to ask God, “What about Leah? Where is she going to live? What about Matthew? Where is he going to go to school? Where is he going to live? What about us? Where are we going to live? Who is going to buy our house and when?” I am so happy to say that He answered every one of those questions in the order they were asked. We found a condo in a gated community close by Leah’s work. Matthew chose to go to school at UCF, 20 minutes away, and he and one of his best friends, David, would be Leah’s roommates. That left us and the sale of our house in FL. We only had two couples that came back more than once while it was on the market, that I recall, and quite a bit of time had lapsed before the last couple made an offer on the house, but it all worked together and we moved into our brand new home at Brookberry Farm on November 1, 2007…just in time for the holidays.
I need to confess right off the bat that I did not originally want to live at Brookberry Farm. I thought we would be living on a farm for sure, but the 2-acre lots with houses we had looked at in and around Winston Salem did not seem to be in enough “screaming distance” if I ever needed a neighbor, so that idea was squelched quickly. The search was on.
Our realtor, Peggy Gheesling, a wonderful lady who looks like a more mature Julia Roberts to me, kept taking us out to Brookberry Farm to look at one specific lot over and over. (Randy, and our daughter Leah, had already visited Brookberry in its early phase, and kept saying it was the best place for me.) Lot 94 was on one of the 3 ponds and had more privacy than most of the houses, which was important to me. We had paid 3 visits to Winston Salem with the thought of finding our dream home before leaving each time. I found one existing house on a small lake in a neighborhood farther out, on our first visit, and even though it was not exactly what I was looking for, I was willing to settle because it would do and I loved the property it was on. Two Adirondack chairs sat at the edge of the lake and I could just picture Randy and I sitting there at the close of day watching the fish jump. We were not in the position to buy, and it sold quickly, so I just looked heavenward and said, “Now what? You know that’s the only house I liked, Lord.”
We were on our third visit and our last day when I woke up with such a feeling of despair. I started crying as I told Randy maybe we shouldn’t look here anymore. Maybe God didn’t want us to live in Winston Salem. I was getting a little cranky at Peggy and Randy for continually suggesting we go back to Brookberry Farm. At one point, Peggy told me it was the best place for someone like me…someone who enjoyed being with people and liked to stay active. There was a clubhouse, a barn for large functions, an exercise facility and soon to be pool and summerhouse, along with tennis courts…and about 800 more houses. It just seemed too crowded already, even though the houses were few in number at that point. (In retrospect, I see that Randy and Peggy knew me better than I knew myself. I can label it now...an extreme aversion to anything that smacked of authority...a remnant of my childhood that was driving the bus at that point.)
As life would have it, Peggy had made an appointment with the builder, Jonathan Lee. He already knew the house was going to be in the Fall Parade of Homes, and that it was going to be a Southern Living plan. We walked over to the clubhouse to meet with him, his wife and terrific designer, Alicia, and her mother Betsy, also a very talented designer. We could not believe our eyes as we walked into the conference room. They had laid out every visual they could for every room in the house. There was the wood flooring, the color of the walls for each room, the wood the built-ins would be constructed from, pictures of the appliances, the tile, you name it. They even had fabric swatches of the shower curtain they were going to make for the upstairs bathroom and tablecloth for the table they were going to place in the house for the Parade date. Needless to say, Randy and I left there JUBILANT! (I really want to say, JUBILATED because it just seems to carry more long lasting energy than jubilant. It just kept on going like that little Energizer bunny.) I couldn’t wait to move into the house. I remember going down to the pond looking up and thinking, “Lord, let us live to see this house and enjoy sitting up on the porch and eating our meals and working in the yard.” The time passed quickly.
Let me digress even more and hopefully put this into better perspective about what prompted this quest for a house. We were new empty-nesters and had an opportunity to start a journey on a new path that would lead us away from Florida, our heart of homes. This crossroads that was going to determine our future, came while I was sitting at a well-known Florida resort, having tea with some friends from church. The phone rang and Randy proclaimed, “It’s ours!” meaning we were off on a new business venture. I told everyone the news and one of the lady’s asked, “So, what’s next?” I said without hesitation, “I don’t know. I’m only prayed up to today.” On the way home, I could hardly contain my excitement. I didn’t hesitate to ask God, “What about Leah? Where is she going to live? What about Matthew? Where is he going to go to school? Where is he going to live? What about us? Where are we going to live? Who is going to buy our house and when?” I am so happy to say that He answered every one of those questions in the order they were asked. We found a condo in a gated community close by Leah’s work. Matthew chose to go to school at UCF, 20 minutes away, and he and one of his best friends, David, would be Leah’s roommates. That left us and the sale of our house in FL. We only had two couples that came back more than once while it was on the market, that I recall, and quite a bit of time had lapsed before the last couple made an offer on the house, but it all worked together and we moved into our brand new home at Brookberry Farm on November 1, 2007…just in time for the holidays.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Newly Edited Something New on the Horizon
I know you are probably glad this day has arrived. My foot is as fine as it's going to get this side of the boot, so it's time to start the next blog, which is going to be entitled, "Meditations from Brookberry Farm." I just saw Beverly Hamel, the author of the book on Bethania I was telling you about in an earlier blog. She told me to just start writing.
She didn't stop there. We're having lunch together on Wednesday and she has already challenged me to write a page a day, 12 pt., double-spaced, 500 words/page. (Gail, I know you are jumping up and down with joy.) I see the book in my head. I see the illustrations, the format and the chapters; I even seen all the print. I just can't read the words. I have not found my voice.
It's Monday, and I am editing this blog from yesterday because I left out the most fun part of my day. We encountered Beverly at a "Dinner with the Artists" at Bethania Mill that Bo had invited us to. Imagine a huge, beautiful wooden old mill-like structure, close to the road with old wooden porches; the main part of the building is painted a pale, antique buttercream, with "Bethania Mill" painted in LARGE black saloon-type script. (There's probably more, but that's all I recall.) Pan over to the porch on the right and you'll see a small bluegrass band, which automatically makes the atmosphere a festive one. There is a nip in the air and the leaves have finally started to display the beginnings of their Mercurochrome shades of red, orange, green and yellow. I couldn't tell you a single song the band was playing, but before I knew it, I was tapping my good foot to the music. Steamy vegetable soup was the fare of the day, along with salad, a multiple array of cheeses and desserts, and a variety of one's beverage of choice. Small cafe tables and chairs set up in front of the band offered anyone who wanted a chance to foot-tap while seated.
The purpose of the function was to promote some of the local artists and their work. Their artwork was set up a little ways (as we say in the south) down the road from the mill, but definitely within walking distance, in a small quaint chapel called Alpha Chapel, which was built by the Moravians back in 1894. (Remember...Alpha means "First/beginning.") I am so looking forward to having two totally functional feet again, so I can walk around the town and pinpoint other structures and their uses.
Last night started a 2 week silent auction that ends with another event in the area. Not quite sure what what it is, but I will find out and let you know. There was quite a selection of artwork hanging in the chapel, with Bo's photograph's on canvas standing out amongst the oils and pastels. His mom, whom I love, and other family members and friends they had invited, stood in little clusters catching up since they'd last seen each other, and welcoming the newcomers with a warmth that would make you cry. I actually stood off a little at one point, and used my mind's eye to capture the moment, so I could pull it up at will and replay it when I want to feel all warm and cozy inside. I also took a moment to thank God that I could be a small part of such a wonderful, kind, community of talented people.
Every time Randy and I go to anything like this, we walk away loving the people more and more. We met John and Kathleen from California, and were enthralled with their stories, but more importantly, we were impressed with what they were both accomplishing in their lives. We have met more people here who are "doers," rather than "observers of the doers." I know that I am being called down from the observation tower, and into the halls of participation. Some days I run; other days I stop in fear. I'm at the threshold now and want to take my hands from the sides of the door frame and see what's on the other side.
Word for the blog for the day: "conundrum" (ke nun drem)n. 2. A problem admitting of no satisfactory solution. Sentence: She was not in a conundrum, because all she had to do was start writing. Wish me well.
She didn't stop there. We're having lunch together on Wednesday and she has already challenged me to write a page a day, 12 pt., double-spaced, 500 words/page. (Gail, I know you are jumping up and down with joy.) I see the book in my head. I see the illustrations, the format and the chapters; I even seen all the print. I just can't read the words. I have not found my voice.
It's Monday, and I am editing this blog from yesterday because I left out the most fun part of my day. We encountered Beverly at a "Dinner with the Artists" at Bethania Mill that Bo had invited us to. Imagine a huge, beautiful wooden old mill-like structure, close to the road with old wooden porches; the main part of the building is painted a pale, antique buttercream, with "Bethania Mill" painted in LARGE black saloon-type script. (There's probably more, but that's all I recall.) Pan over to the porch on the right and you'll see a small bluegrass band, which automatically makes the atmosphere a festive one. There is a nip in the air and the leaves have finally started to display the beginnings of their Mercurochrome shades of red, orange, green and yellow. I couldn't tell you a single song the band was playing, but before I knew it, I was tapping my good foot to the music. Steamy vegetable soup was the fare of the day, along with salad, a multiple array of cheeses and desserts, and a variety of one's beverage of choice. Small cafe tables and chairs set up in front of the band offered anyone who wanted a chance to foot-tap while seated.
The purpose of the function was to promote some of the local artists and their work. Their artwork was set up a little ways (as we say in the south) down the road from the mill, but definitely within walking distance, in a small quaint chapel called Alpha Chapel, which was built by the Moravians back in 1894. (Remember...Alpha means "First/beginning.") I am so looking forward to having two totally functional feet again, so I can walk around the town and pinpoint other structures and their uses.
Last night started a 2 week silent auction that ends with another event in the area. Not quite sure what what it is, but I will find out and let you know. There was quite a selection of artwork hanging in the chapel, with Bo's photograph's on canvas standing out amongst the oils and pastels. His mom, whom I love, and other family members and friends they had invited, stood in little clusters catching up since they'd last seen each other, and welcoming the newcomers with a warmth that would make you cry. I actually stood off a little at one point, and used my mind's eye to capture the moment, so I could pull it up at will and replay it when I want to feel all warm and cozy inside. I also took a moment to thank God that I could be a small part of such a wonderful, kind, community of talented people.
Every time Randy and I go to anything like this, we walk away loving the people more and more. We met John and Kathleen from California, and were enthralled with their stories, but more importantly, we were impressed with what they were both accomplishing in their lives. We have met more people here who are "doers," rather than "observers of the doers." I know that I am being called down from the observation tower, and into the halls of participation. Some days I run; other days I stop in fear. I'm at the threshold now and want to take my hands from the sides of the door frame and see what's on the other side.
Word for the blog for the day: "conundrum" (ke nun drem)n. 2. A problem admitting of no satisfactory solution. Sentence: She was not in a conundrum, because all she had to do was start writing. Wish me well.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Quondam People
How wonderful to have the windows open at night...how much more wonderful to wake up to rolling thunder in the distance and the sound of rain pouring through the trees. We've been averaging in the 60s and 70s throughout our days lately. It's about 72 right now. I think this is our warm day, because I detect a little humidity in the air. Leah called yesterday and told me she was at Sam's and they were already decorated for Christmas. It's in the mid-90's and unbearable in Orlando she said. Connie & Larry said the same thing from Ft. Lauderdale.
When I was a child, stores decorated for the month. Now they just clump everything together. I can just picture the first store decorator who said in August, "Just get everything out from now to Christmas. We'll deal New Year's, Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day in January!I wonder if this confuses kids. Anyway, I went in and bought my huge roll of red Christmas ribbon for $8.32.
Oh my word! I can't believe I didn't start out with this. Look down at my little Neo Counter. I checked my emails this morning and didn't recognize the email address, and lo and behold, after I reminded myself of all the bad things that can happen if you answer cellphones that have a certain prefix and your bank account is emptied, to all my computer files disappearing in flames before my eyes if I clicked on it, I decided to just take a chance and quickly click on and off. I was not disappointed. This is what I saw: Congratulations! You just had your first visitor from Canada. Is that cool or what? There was even a little map showing the N. American continent, with Canada highlighted. I pictured my Canadian browser just standing there waving at me. "Back at ya, friend." It was like having a birthday surprise, and it's not even my birthday.
Randy and I went to the Parade of Homes here. Absolutely beautiful. We went to our builder, Jonathan Lee's house first. Fireplace in the backyard, you name it. It will surely win something, just as he does every year. He is very thorough. Our house won the gold award two years ago, and I know he won something last fall on his parade home. He's just a winner, because he does everything with excellence, as does his staff, wife and mother-in-law, who are his decorator/designers. We love him.
Well, here is the word for the blog for the day...last q word, mind you. The word is "quondam" (kwon dem) adj. That once was; former. Debbie McCann, the quondam waiter, is now attempting to accomplish her heart's dream. I think there are some people that are so focused on their goals that they don't let anything thwart them on their path; therefore the only thing that can be described as quondam in regard to them is that once they were learners and now they are teachers/examples to the learners. May you be one of those.
When I was a child, stores decorated for the month. Now they just clump everything together. I can just picture the first store decorator who said in August, "Just get everything out from now to Christmas. We'll deal New Year's, Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day in January!I wonder if this confuses kids. Anyway, I went in and bought my huge roll of red Christmas ribbon for $8.32.
Oh my word! I can't believe I didn't start out with this. Look down at my little Neo Counter. I checked my emails this morning and didn't recognize the email address, and lo and behold, after I reminded myself of all the bad things that can happen if you answer cellphones that have a certain prefix and your bank account is emptied, to all my computer files disappearing in flames before my eyes if I clicked on it, I decided to just take a chance and quickly click on and off. I was not disappointed. This is what I saw: Congratulations! You just had your first visitor from Canada. Is that cool or what? There was even a little map showing the N. American continent, with Canada highlighted. I pictured my Canadian browser just standing there waving at me. "Back at ya, friend." It was like having a birthday surprise, and it's not even my birthday.
Randy and I went to the Parade of Homes here. Absolutely beautiful. We went to our builder, Jonathan Lee's house first. Fireplace in the backyard, you name it. It will surely win something, just as he does every year. He is very thorough. Our house won the gold award two years ago, and I know he won something last fall on his parade home. He's just a winner, because he does everything with excellence, as does his staff, wife and mother-in-law, who are his decorator/designers. We love him.
Well, here is the word for the blog for the day...last q word, mind you. The word is "quondam" (kwon dem) adj. That once was; former. Debbie McCann, the quondam waiter, is now attempting to accomplish her heart's dream. I think there are some people that are so focused on their goals that they don't let anything thwart them on their path; therefore the only thing that can be described as quondam in regard to them is that once they were learners and now they are teachers/examples to the learners. May you be one of those.
Friday, October 9, 2009
"The Ubiquitous Pig"
I promise there's a book out there called, "The Ubiquitous Pig," written by Marilyn Nissenson & Susan Jonas. Randy found it on his bookshelf...something he inherited from the previous owners of Red, Hot & Blue. I have thumbed through the pages and have to admit, it is the most thorough book on the history of the pig, I have ever seen. This is from inside the book's jacket: The two authors, "take an affectionate look at the many-sided relationship between human and pigs and the art people have made to reflect that bond." It truly is a work of art! There are quite a few notable pigs out there: Porky Pig, Piglet, "The Three Little Pigs" and Miss Piggy. Don't forget. Beatrix Potter's, "The Tale of Pigling Bland" and Pig-Wig; E. B. White's lovable Wilbur, and Jamie Wyeth's (son of artist Andrew Wyeth) portrait of "Lady," which we have signed lithograph's of.(Great story there. Maybe I'll share it someday.)Yes, the pig really is ubiquitous if we but open our eyes.
I awakened to a phone call from Leah this morning, along with an invitation from my neighbor to come over for one of her healthy juicer drinks, shortly thereafter. I hopped in a warm-up suit and hustled over to find fresh fruit and vegetables sitting out on the counter near the juicer.(I am always intrigued by anything that is healthy or medicinal.) There was a cucumber, apple, celery, cilantro, yellow bell pepper and maybe more. She stuck a straw in her beautiful green concoction and we had so much fun conversing on life. We are loving getting to know each other better through sharing food. There really is something to be said about breaking bread together, even though there was no bread in the juice. You get my drift.
I came home energized to tackle this computer stuff, i.e., how to recover my deleted blog from yesterday. I deleted it on purpose, because I didn't want to stir up a flurry of controversy on water pollution, etc. But, once my sister emailed me on how informative it was, I decided to republish it. Not an easy task, but I did it...all by myself. I am so proud of me, because I don't persevere well when it comes to reading directions and researching how to solve a problem. (I may even go back to my ipod one of these days from my Bag O' Fun that is still packed from my surgery. Don't hold your breath though)FYI: Hit control H to find your history, then scroll down until you find what you are looking for, click on it and there you go! Not so hard, huh? It took me ALL DAY to find someone who put it in my lingo and that's as simple as it gets, folks. By the way, Leah told me this one: See that star up at the top of that long window at the top to the right? Hit that if you want to have something, like maybe my blog, come up with just a tap of the icon. It's called, "Bookmarking." Just do what it says. Too easy. Feel free to pass on any other hints that will make our lives easier.
Word for the blog of the day: quod, n.(kwod) (May sound simple, but remember, I am trying to throw in a few SMALL words for those who play Scrabble.)This looks like a fairly doable word if you've got the letters. It means, "prison," and is British slang.[origin obscure.] In the meantime, keep on enjoying the incredible, ubiquitous, edible pig, and do your best to stay out of the quod.
I awakened to a phone call from Leah this morning, along with an invitation from my neighbor to come over for one of her healthy juicer drinks, shortly thereafter. I hopped in a warm-up suit and hustled over to find fresh fruit and vegetables sitting out on the counter near the juicer.(I am always intrigued by anything that is healthy or medicinal.) There was a cucumber, apple, celery, cilantro, yellow bell pepper and maybe more. She stuck a straw in her beautiful green concoction and we had so much fun conversing on life. We are loving getting to know each other better through sharing food. There really is something to be said about breaking bread together, even though there was no bread in the juice. You get my drift.
I came home energized to tackle this computer stuff, i.e., how to recover my deleted blog from yesterday. I deleted it on purpose, because I didn't want to stir up a flurry of controversy on water pollution, etc. But, once my sister emailed me on how informative it was, I decided to republish it. Not an easy task, but I did it...all by myself. I am so proud of me, because I don't persevere well when it comes to reading directions and researching how to solve a problem. (I may even go back to my ipod one of these days from my Bag O' Fun that is still packed from my surgery. Don't hold your breath though)FYI: Hit control H to find your history, then scroll down until you find what you are looking for, click on it and there you go! Not so hard, huh? It took me ALL DAY to find someone who put it in my lingo and that's as simple as it gets, folks. By the way, Leah told me this one: See that star up at the top of that long window at the top to the right? Hit that if you want to have something, like maybe my blog, come up with just a tap of the icon. It's called, "Bookmarking." Just do what it says. Too easy. Feel free to pass on any other hints that will make our lives easier.
Word for the blog of the day: quod, n.(kwod) (May sound simple, but remember, I am trying to throw in a few SMALL words for those who play Scrabble.)This looks like a fairly doable word if you've got the letters. It means, "prison," and is British slang.[origin obscure.] In the meantime, keep on enjoying the incredible, ubiquitous, edible pig, and do your best to stay out of the quod.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Not Even 20 Flushes
Dire circumstances call for drastic measures. Being on your back for over a week allows you to see the person you've lived with for 35 years with a different perspective. That would be Randy, in case you are wondering. We have 6 toilets in this house, and we are very thankful for all six of them, but for some reason, these toilets develop that little pink ring at the top of the water line faster than we've ever seen them develop before. We expected it in Florida due to all the humidity, but not here, and it develops in a matter of days, whether you use the toilets or not. (FYI, I clean the toilets once a week whether anyone has used them or not... and ALWAYS before and after our guests leave.)
Well, Randy was in charge of cleaning the house while I was off my feet, and he decided he would take matters into his own hands. He went out and bought a product boasting A LOT OF Flushes, thinking he wasn't going to have to clean the toilet nearly as often as I have been doing these last two years. He started with 2 toilets: ours and the guest room toilet located near our bedroom. Our bathroom we share, adjacent to our bedroom, of course is the one most often used. It flushed blue every time, signifying in our eyes, that the product was working. Not so in the guest bathroom, but he didn't find that out until he went out and bought one for every toilet in the house. I did a quick look-see before we had company last week and all the toilets looked like...suffice it to say, a pinkish yellow...not orange, not red, and in some cases green. It took two flushes each to make the strange colors disappear. (I hate to interrupt, but we had quite a few visitors at this time, and I don't want you to think we are dying of some strange urinary tract disease.)
Something was not right. Randy became quite upset, when after only about 15 or so flushes, the water stopped turning blue; he decided to call the company and found out that the product only truly works if you regularly use the toilet, otherwise it reacts against itself. They said they get reports all the time of the different colors. They asked Randy if he'd like more, and he sweetly declined. Randy, being the frugal person that he is though, showed up later with blue hands from removing all the little tablets and doing who knows what with them. I do not want to know, since we won't be using them again, but for some reason our toilet is so blue it's almost black, so I think he's doubling up.
Which brings to mind. I'm wondering if it has something to do with the water. One would think the water in NC would be crystal clear and sparkling, due to traveling all over rocks and coming from hidden, protected springs. We just read in the paper that we are rated number 3 for worst in drinking water. Florida rated 2nd, Georgia 5th, and California 1st. (This is public news. I'm not exposing anything.)We've lived in every one of those states. I wonder what that means for our bodies. Georgia was the only place I ever remember drinking it in excess right out of the tap, but maybe I am just having selective memory to protect myself. If anyone has any suggestions on how to clean these toilets organically, let me know. (Just got off the phone with Leah, and she told me that Clorox makes a cleaner called Clorox Green Works.) Hope this helps. Foot's fine, other than it looks like it is molting today. Hope you all are well. You might want to do a water check of your state before taking that next big gulp.
Word for the blog for the day: "quintessence," n. The pure, highly concentrated essence of something. Time for a mind stretch? Who can come up with a sentence in relation to this word and drinking water?
Well, Randy was in charge of cleaning the house while I was off my feet, and he decided he would take matters into his own hands. He went out and bought a product boasting A LOT OF Flushes, thinking he wasn't going to have to clean the toilet nearly as often as I have been doing these last two years. He started with 2 toilets: ours and the guest room toilet located near our bedroom. Our bathroom we share, adjacent to our bedroom, of course is the one most often used. It flushed blue every time, signifying in our eyes, that the product was working. Not so in the guest bathroom, but he didn't find that out until he went out and bought one for every toilet in the house. I did a quick look-see before we had company last week and all the toilets looked like...suffice it to say, a pinkish yellow...not orange, not red, and in some cases green. It took two flushes each to make the strange colors disappear. (I hate to interrupt, but we had quite a few visitors at this time, and I don't want you to think we are dying of some strange urinary tract disease.)
Something was not right. Randy became quite upset, when after only about 15 or so flushes, the water stopped turning blue; he decided to call the company and found out that the product only truly works if you regularly use the toilet, otherwise it reacts against itself. They said they get reports all the time of the different colors. They asked Randy if he'd like more, and he sweetly declined. Randy, being the frugal person that he is though, showed up later with blue hands from removing all the little tablets and doing who knows what with them. I do not want to know, since we won't be using them again, but for some reason our toilet is so blue it's almost black, so I think he's doubling up.
Which brings to mind. I'm wondering if it has something to do with the water. One would think the water in NC would be crystal clear and sparkling, due to traveling all over rocks and coming from hidden, protected springs. We just read in the paper that we are rated number 3 for worst in drinking water. Florida rated 2nd, Georgia 5th, and California 1st. (This is public news. I'm not exposing anything.)We've lived in every one of those states. I wonder what that means for our bodies. Georgia was the only place I ever remember drinking it in excess right out of the tap, but maybe I am just having selective memory to protect myself. If anyone has any suggestions on how to clean these toilets organically, let me know. (Just got off the phone with Leah, and she told me that Clorox makes a cleaner called Clorox Green Works.) Hope this helps. Foot's fine, other than it looks like it is molting today. Hope you all are well. You might want to do a water check of your state before taking that next big gulp.
Word for the blog for the day: "quintessence," n. The pure, highly concentrated essence of something. Time for a mind stretch? Who can come up with a sentence in relation to this word and drinking water?
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Captain of the Neighborhood Watch
We had a retired submarine captain who lived across the street from us in San Diego, and upon meeting him for the first time, he said with great confidence, "Hi, I'm Duke F______, Captain of the Neighborhood Watch." Randy and I were quite impressed and have reminded ourselves over and over of our wonderful neighbor and how safe we felt having him directly across the street standing guard over all of us.
All this to let you know that I am officially a block captain here on the farm. It looks as though I am in charge of 13 houses. I am a little disappointed as I just got back from our first BLOCK CAPTAIN meeting and I did not get deputized; nor did I get a badge, a gun, a vest, a hat, or even a tazer. (This word is not in my 1970 collegiate dictionary, so I don't know if it's spelled with an s or a z. It sounds like a z to me.) But, I will do my job with a total commitment to helping our neighborhood be safe for all of us, and I really mean that. I love this place and our neighbors.
The "Word for the blog of the day" was a great hit it seems. (Loved the comments. Bo, thanks for the bruise relief suggestion. I can tell, the older I get, the more I am going to need it. I planted some hot peppers this year...wasn't sure why, once they started growing; therefore threw them whole into a freezer bag and they are being cryogenically preserved until I decide what to do with them. Thank you, Michael, for the word...look at his blog and you can see the whole US lit up with light spots where McDonald's are located, and thank you, La ti ci a. I always love hearing from you. Here is the next q word..."querist (kwir ist) n. A questioner; an inquirer. [From Latin quaerere, to seek; to ask." Sentence: I would like all of us to become querists, so that we may be better informed about ourselves, others and our world. ] This should be much easier to use in Scrabble rather than ubiquitous; it's not near as much fun to say, but we should strive to be querists, don't you agree? Having a label helps us to become more intentional, I think.
Susan and I went out on our quest for the sink again today. Made it over to a local antique/yard art/junk store, only to find it closed on Tuesday's. Who cares! We went to lunch and will venture back out on Thursday afternoon. Can't wait! It was a beautiful overcast fall day with that nip in the air, so I had the hottest bean and chili soup in the world with a half of a grilled cheese sandwich made with real cheddar cheese. Can you believe that? (It's someplace downtown with Mary's name in it.) I wiped the sweat from my brow and from under my eyes with every bite of that soup. Speaking of which...everything in our yard is in bloom: azaleas, bulbs coming up again, impatience, chrysanthemums, coneflower, the biggest yellow somethings I've ever seen in my life. So help me I could win an award for them at the fair, which is in town. In case you're wondering why I put all this together, and why I have repeated myself from a previous blog...it's because it looks like 3 seasons in our yard instead of one. Susan thinks it's due to global warming, but her azaleas are not in bloom, even though her daffodils and irises are peeking through. I think it's due to the fact that our yard was once pastureland and the cow manure protein/microbes are still there. (I know...they hauled most of that away as topsoil, but something must have remained behind.)
Foot update: I'm glad there' s not a water shortage here. I sure enjoyed basking in the shower today. I feel that since I haven't used much water I was due a little extra time to just BASK! I promise it won't become a habit...just maybe one more time. I had a little toe concern in the middle of the night. I haven't been wearing my boot to bed for quite sometime, but if you recall, I transitioned a day early into the next boot, which I did not wear to bed. Therein lies the problem. My toe, thinking it was protected, as in the past, fell off the pillow I have been propping it on, and hit head first into the mattress. I woke myself up crying out in astonishment. It took me a little while to go back to sleep, but all was well in the long run and the sheets were not covered in blood, as I imagined they could have been in the middle of the night. Thanks for reading and in the meantime, BE SAFE, and may we all be on guard for each other. UPDATE: Leah told me it is taser with an s.
All this to let you know that I am officially a block captain here on the farm. It looks as though I am in charge of 13 houses. I am a little disappointed as I just got back from our first BLOCK CAPTAIN meeting and I did not get deputized; nor did I get a badge, a gun, a vest, a hat, or even a tazer. (This word is not in my 1970 collegiate dictionary, so I don't know if it's spelled with an s or a z. It sounds like a z to me.) But, I will do my job with a total commitment to helping our neighborhood be safe for all of us, and I really mean that. I love this place and our neighbors.
The "Word for the blog of the day" was a great hit it seems. (Loved the comments. Bo, thanks for the bruise relief suggestion. I can tell, the older I get, the more I am going to need it. I planted some hot peppers this year...wasn't sure why, once they started growing; therefore threw them whole into a freezer bag and they are being cryogenically preserved until I decide what to do with them. Thank you, Michael, for the word...look at his blog and you can see the whole US lit up with light spots where McDonald's are located, and thank you, La ti ci a. I always love hearing from you. Here is the next q word..."querist (kwir ist) n. A questioner; an inquirer. [From Latin quaerere, to seek; to ask." Sentence: I would like all of us to become querists, so that we may be better informed about ourselves, others and our world. ] This should be much easier to use in Scrabble rather than ubiquitous; it's not near as much fun to say, but we should strive to be querists, don't you agree? Having a label helps us to become more intentional, I think.
Susan and I went out on our quest for the sink again today. Made it over to a local antique/yard art/junk store, only to find it closed on Tuesday's. Who cares! We went to lunch and will venture back out on Thursday afternoon. Can't wait! It was a beautiful overcast fall day with that nip in the air, so I had the hottest bean and chili soup in the world with a half of a grilled cheese sandwich made with real cheddar cheese. Can you believe that? (It's someplace downtown with Mary's name in it.) I wiped the sweat from my brow and from under my eyes with every bite of that soup. Speaking of which...everything in our yard is in bloom: azaleas, bulbs coming up again, impatience, chrysanthemums, coneflower, the biggest yellow somethings I've ever seen in my life. So help me I could win an award for them at the fair, which is in town. In case you're wondering why I put all this together, and why I have repeated myself from a previous blog...it's because it looks like 3 seasons in our yard instead of one. Susan thinks it's due to global warming, but her azaleas are not in bloom, even though her daffodils and irises are peeking through. I think it's due to the fact that our yard was once pastureland and the cow manure protein/microbes are still there. (I know...they hauled most of that away as topsoil, but something must have remained behind.)
Foot update: I'm glad there' s not a water shortage here. I sure enjoyed basking in the shower today. I feel that since I haven't used much water I was due a little extra time to just BASK! I promise it won't become a habit...just maybe one more time. I had a little toe concern in the middle of the night. I haven't been wearing my boot to bed for quite sometime, but if you recall, I transitioned a day early into the next boot, which I did not wear to bed. Therein lies the problem. My toe, thinking it was protected, as in the past, fell off the pillow I have been propping it on, and hit head first into the mattress. I woke myself up crying out in astonishment. It took me a little while to go back to sleep, but all was well in the long run and the sheets were not covered in blood, as I imagined they could have been in the middle of the night. Thanks for reading and in the meantime, BE SAFE, and may we all be on guard for each other. UPDATE: Leah told me it is taser with an s.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Turning Point II
Sorry, it's taken me so long. I went on and changed some of the settings this AM, because Larry from Camaroon told me he couldn't read the french surrounding the instructions on how to comment on my blog, which is still giving everyone trouble. Could someone please place in the comment section how to comment? Thank you! Anyway, I thought I'd solved the problem by pushing the transliteration button, but when I started writing it came out in Hindu. No, I don't speak or write Hindu. It said next to it that it was Hindu, that's how I know.
I had a HUGE turning point today. I took off my monster truck boot a whole day early AND took a shower without 2 plastic bags and a towel around my foot, secured by postal packing tape. It was so much fun just standing up straight and not worrying about tipping too close to the glass as I tried to shave my legs with the boot propped up on my little stool like in the past. FREEDOM! I got out, gingerly dried my transformed foot, put on a sock, (not too tight the doctor had said) and put on my NEW BOOT. So help me, I felt like Cinderella, minus the Prince Charming. (He was at work already.) I didn't have a problem going from it being tipped up to being level. I AM SO HAPPY!
I just showed Randy my exposed foot and we were very impressed with the scar. Upon a closer perusal than I gave this morning, I learned there is a bruise on the bottom of my foot and that's another consequence of the broken bone. I can't believe I've been walking with a bruise on my foot! I, at one point, thought the doctor had done a toe-reduction that I kind of jokingly, not really, suggested, as my second toe is larger than my BIG toe. I've always heard that a female with a larger second toe, ruled the family. I don't want that to be the case, so I figured I could alter fate. (I used to have spaces between my front teeth and you know what that means...that you're going to travel, and travel I've done, even after I got them fixed, so I guess there really is no fate-altering. Que sera sera.) No, I'm not superstitious. To get back to the point, there was still quite a bit of bruising...and I know it's from the doctor and nurse playing "This Little Piggy," on my toes. I also noticed a little nick on the second toe. I was out of it, but I can just hear the anesthetist saying, "NO, don't reduce that toe! We can get her later for another operation!" He was the one I had suggested it to to begin with.
I remembered the "Word for the blog for the day!" It's UBIQUITOUS. Don't you just love that word? I do. I am going to theme this week's words. They will all have a Q in them, so that I can learn how to spell q words for when I play Scrabble. I play to win. UBIQUITOUS means...just in case it's not in your everyday vocabulary; "being or seeming to be everywhere at the same time; omnipresent." Michael used it in his blog in regard to the golden arches being ubiquitous. My sentence is: The mosquitoes are ubiquitous right now and driving me crazy. I know there could have been a better sentence, but it is 11:07.
I think that's it for now. "Castle" is on and I just love it. I am thankful that I turned my point early and we can all rejoice together that I did. I love talking to my friends from afar and heard from two today. I love telephones and emails...still don't understand how a radio works. I'm embarrassed to tell you how long I thought little people were in those neat old stand-up radios like my mother had, and I always tried to sneak a peek of the singers in there twirling on a record playing their cellos and guitars. (I also tried to keep one eye open at bedtime because my sisters told me that my dolls came to life while I was sleeping. I'd even put a snore in for good measure.) I didn't know until the movie "Toy Story" that I should have tried filming it instead. Sweet dreams.
I had a HUGE turning point today. I took off my monster truck boot a whole day early AND took a shower without 2 plastic bags and a towel around my foot, secured by postal packing tape. It was so much fun just standing up straight and not worrying about tipping too close to the glass as I tried to shave my legs with the boot propped up on my little stool like in the past. FREEDOM! I got out, gingerly dried my transformed foot, put on a sock, (not too tight the doctor had said) and put on my NEW BOOT. So help me, I felt like Cinderella, minus the Prince Charming. (He was at work already.) I didn't have a problem going from it being tipped up to being level. I AM SO HAPPY!
I just showed Randy my exposed foot and we were very impressed with the scar. Upon a closer perusal than I gave this morning, I learned there is a bruise on the bottom of my foot and that's another consequence of the broken bone. I can't believe I've been walking with a bruise on my foot! I, at one point, thought the doctor had done a toe-reduction that I kind of jokingly, not really, suggested, as my second toe is larger than my BIG toe. I've always heard that a female with a larger second toe, ruled the family. I don't want that to be the case, so I figured I could alter fate. (I used to have spaces between my front teeth and you know what that means...that you're going to travel, and travel I've done, even after I got them fixed, so I guess there really is no fate-altering. Que sera sera.) No, I'm not superstitious. To get back to the point, there was still quite a bit of bruising...and I know it's from the doctor and nurse playing "This Little Piggy," on my toes. I also noticed a little nick on the second toe. I was out of it, but I can just hear the anesthetist saying, "NO, don't reduce that toe! We can get her later for another operation!" He was the one I had suggested it to to begin with.
I remembered the "Word for the blog for the day!" It's UBIQUITOUS. Don't you just love that word? I do. I am going to theme this week's words. They will all have a Q in them, so that I can learn how to spell q words for when I play Scrabble. I play to win. UBIQUITOUS means...just in case it's not in your everyday vocabulary; "being or seeming to be everywhere at the same time; omnipresent." Michael used it in his blog in regard to the golden arches being ubiquitous. My sentence is: The mosquitoes are ubiquitous right now and driving me crazy. I know there could have been a better sentence, but it is 11:07.
I think that's it for now. "Castle" is on and I just love it. I am thankful that I turned my point early and we can all rejoice together that I did. I love talking to my friends from afar and heard from two today. I love telephones and emails...still don't understand how a radio works. I'm embarrassed to tell you how long I thought little people were in those neat old stand-up radios like my mother had, and I always tried to sneak a peek of the singers in there twirling on a record playing their cellos and guitars. (I also tried to keep one eye open at bedtime because my sisters told me that my dolls came to life while I was sleeping. I'd even put a snore in for good measure.) I didn't know until the movie "Toy Story" that I should have tried filming it instead. Sweet dreams.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Literate Yourself
We had our Amos Cottage Guild coffee last Friday morning at the Brookberry Farm clubhouse across the street. We had a marvelous speaker from United Way, and after hearing Mary Dame, the Cottage Director, speak, I was thankful once again to be a part of such a wonderful endeavor. I may have mentioned that the Therapeutic Day Program there is involved with identifying and working with children with behavioral/emotional problems, along with their parents, for approximately 6 months to help the children function better in the classroom. Mary had the children make suncatchers for our gift bags that we had ready for new members, of which there were three. (My friend, Susan, is one of them and she's already signed up to help with everything I help with and that makes me happy.)
I am adding a new "something" to the blog. A word for the day! I thought of it after reading Michael's blog and he used the word...hmmmm, I can't remember it so we will use that word tomorrow for our first "Word for the Blog." Get excited...it's a good one.
On to other things. Susan, Randy and I went to the Parking Lot sale at the Hanesbrands Mill here in Winston Salem yesterday, to help support the United Way and to pick up some deals. Needless to say, it was PACKED by 9:45 AM, but that did not deter us. Randy dropped us at the front so I could start hobbling along; traffic had stopped momentarily, and Susan and I were just about to cross the street when a man told us no purses were allowed. I threw my purse at Susan and she tore over to the car and threw them in before Randy could move another inch.
Visualize this: you put a bunch of open boxes on tables, and they're full of drastically reduced underwear in all sizes and colors, and the end result is mayhem. In truth, it only looked that way with the paper strewn everywhere, and being relocated with every shoe that scuffed by or breeze that created paper insert storms. I have to take another moment to tell you how precious these North Carolinians are. I heard nothing but "excuse me's," and, "here's your size 6's you were looking for. " How sweet is that?
In fact, the day was so beautiful with fall approaching and all, that Susan and I just took our time going from box to box, since Randy was already standing in line and hadn't moved for our first six rows of looking. Peace and good will just hovered over the Hanesbrands parking lot, and it was obvious it extended all the way to the parking lot across the street, where our cars were.
I know you're anxious to hear what we bought, but I can't tell you, because they're surprises for our children's stockings; BUT suffice it to say, for 50 cents a pop, everyone got a little something. Susan walked out with a bundle for only $11, and our whopping total was only $31. and our Santa bag was pretty heavy. Oh, I can tell you this. We had silverfish in FL that ate our clothing. Here, we have earwigs, you know, those black little centipede type things with pinchers. They have found my underwear for some reason, so I am prepared now for about 2 weeks without having to do any replacing. Randy would have been, but they only carried size 2X and small in the boxer/brief underwear. (He does not fit into either category.)
Once Susan and I had seen everything, we joined Randy in line, and of course, started getting to know the man behind us. Randy had already asked him everything, so we didn't repeat but a few questions, which Randy answered for us. (His son may be going to Duke on a football scholarship.) In the course of all this talking, I finally noticed that the workers had on T-shirts that said, "Live United." Remember who spoke at the Amos Cottage coffee?" Eric, a United Way executive here. I told one of the Hanes leaders (They had on red shirts as opposed to worker- white.) I was so proud to be a part of this and mentally wished I had spent more. He told me their goal was $200,000. I told him I hoped he exceeded it and Randy read in the paper today, that the sale, along with another United endeavor, produced approximately $266,000. Isn't that wonderful? And it was fun to boot.
From there, we went antique shopping, but not really. I'm looking for an old porcelain sink with sideboards so Randy can make me a potting bench. (I may have told you.) We found the most wonderful hidden house that looked like where Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte would have lived, and then right behind it, a barn full of old glass windows, iron-ware, you name it. Beyond that was the first R. J. Reynold's tobacco warehouse that had been relocated and stocked full of southwestern stuff, like a bison head, lots of antlers and Indian relics. Everything was surrounded with bricked or rock bordered garden areas with antique yard ornaments situated in just the perfect place. Susan and I decided right then that we would be going back and taking lunch with us the next time to eat on the lawn with the old white dog. (He was real and slow.)
You'd think that was a full day, wouldn't you? But no! Randy and I had a choice of going to an Art Exhibit opening or a Press 53 event at a bookstore in Kernersville, about 20 minutes away. I chose the latter because I learn a lot about the publishing business when I hear Kevin speak. (Check out his blog. He's one of my followers, and you may just LITERATE YOURSELF.) It was so much fun. We got to see the new budding authors and hear poetry from quite a few of the already established poets in attendance. Awards were also given out and I wrote my acceptance speech in my head in a matter of seconds, and had everyone laughing, crying and shaking their heads with their hands clasped together and their eyes closed, all at the same time. (As I reread this, I can see how some of you might think I really did win something, so I need to clarify, you have to write, and write well to win. I haven't done either yet, but I'm working on it.) I was so motivated by all the poetry reading, which I am embarrassed to say, I haven't done since college, that I came straight home and wrote a poem, but you will never see it, I'm sad to say. I was venting about something that makes me cranky. Poetry really does mirror the soul, so you'd better watch it if you want to be a poet and still keep your friends. No, it wasn't about Randy or you.
Lest I forget. We each got a raffle ticket and Randy had just told me he didn't think the top one had gone in the fishbowl yet, and lo and behold, whose number was called next? YES! That one! I quickly made my way up to the front of the room, rocking back and forth between my good foot and my newly transformed foot, and claimed my beautiful "Literate Yourself" bag. I was so happy. (Randy had disappeared outside and was calling anyone who would talk to him between 6:30 and 8 last night.) It didn't matter. He took me without complaining and it was a lovely evening.
You are officially caught up now, so I am going to sign off and go and read one of the books that was highlighted last night. I just may learn something. Until next time...read a book and LITERATE YOURSELF! Happy reading.
I am adding a new "something" to the blog. A word for the day! I thought of it after reading Michael's blog and he used the word...hmmmm, I can't remember it so we will use that word tomorrow for our first "Word for the Blog." Get excited...it's a good one.
On to other things. Susan, Randy and I went to the Parking Lot sale at the Hanesbrands Mill here in Winston Salem yesterday, to help support the United Way and to pick up some deals. Needless to say, it was PACKED by 9:45 AM, but that did not deter us. Randy dropped us at the front so I could start hobbling along; traffic had stopped momentarily, and Susan and I were just about to cross the street when a man told us no purses were allowed. I threw my purse at Susan and she tore over to the car and threw them in before Randy could move another inch.
Visualize this: you put a bunch of open boxes on tables, and they're full of drastically reduced underwear in all sizes and colors, and the end result is mayhem. In truth, it only looked that way with the paper strewn everywhere, and being relocated with every shoe that scuffed by or breeze that created paper insert storms. I have to take another moment to tell you how precious these North Carolinians are. I heard nothing but "excuse me's," and, "here's your size 6's you were looking for. " How sweet is that?
In fact, the day was so beautiful with fall approaching and all, that Susan and I just took our time going from box to box, since Randy was already standing in line and hadn't moved for our first six rows of looking. Peace and good will just hovered over the Hanesbrands parking lot, and it was obvious it extended all the way to the parking lot across the street, where our cars were.
I know you're anxious to hear what we bought, but I can't tell you, because they're surprises for our children's stockings; BUT suffice it to say, for 50 cents a pop, everyone got a little something. Susan walked out with a bundle for only $11, and our whopping total was only $31. and our Santa bag was pretty heavy. Oh, I can tell you this. We had silverfish in FL that ate our clothing. Here, we have earwigs, you know, those black little centipede type things with pinchers. They have found my underwear for some reason, so I am prepared now for about 2 weeks without having to do any replacing. Randy would have been, but they only carried size 2X and small in the boxer/brief underwear. (He does not fit into either category.)
Once Susan and I had seen everything, we joined Randy in line, and of course, started getting to know the man behind us. Randy had already asked him everything, so we didn't repeat but a few questions, which Randy answered for us. (His son may be going to Duke on a football scholarship.) In the course of all this talking, I finally noticed that the workers had on T-shirts that said, "Live United." Remember who spoke at the Amos Cottage coffee?" Eric, a United Way executive here. I told one of the Hanes leaders (They had on red shirts as opposed to worker- white.) I was so proud to be a part of this and mentally wished I had spent more. He told me their goal was $200,000. I told him I hoped he exceeded it and Randy read in the paper today, that the sale, along with another United endeavor, produced approximately $266,000. Isn't that wonderful? And it was fun to boot.
From there, we went antique shopping, but not really. I'm looking for an old porcelain sink with sideboards so Randy can make me a potting bench. (I may have told you.) We found the most wonderful hidden house that looked like where Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte would have lived, and then right behind it, a barn full of old glass windows, iron-ware, you name it. Beyond that was the first R. J. Reynold's tobacco warehouse that had been relocated and stocked full of southwestern stuff, like a bison head, lots of antlers and Indian relics. Everything was surrounded with bricked or rock bordered garden areas with antique yard ornaments situated in just the perfect place. Susan and I decided right then that we would be going back and taking lunch with us the next time to eat on the lawn with the old white dog. (He was real and slow.)
You'd think that was a full day, wouldn't you? But no! Randy and I had a choice of going to an Art Exhibit opening or a Press 53 event at a bookstore in Kernersville, about 20 minutes away. I chose the latter because I learn a lot about the publishing business when I hear Kevin speak. (Check out his blog. He's one of my followers, and you may just LITERATE YOURSELF.) It was so much fun. We got to see the new budding authors and hear poetry from quite a few of the already established poets in attendance. Awards were also given out and I wrote my acceptance speech in my head in a matter of seconds, and had everyone laughing, crying and shaking their heads with their hands clasped together and their eyes closed, all at the same time. (As I reread this, I can see how some of you might think I really did win something, so I need to clarify, you have to write, and write well to win. I haven't done either yet, but I'm working on it.) I was so motivated by all the poetry reading, which I am embarrassed to say, I haven't done since college, that I came straight home and wrote a poem, but you will never see it, I'm sad to say. I was venting about something that makes me cranky. Poetry really does mirror the soul, so you'd better watch it if you want to be a poet and still keep your friends. No, it wasn't about Randy or you.
Lest I forget. We each got a raffle ticket and Randy had just told me he didn't think the top one had gone in the fishbowl yet, and lo and behold, whose number was called next? YES! That one! I quickly made my way up to the front of the room, rocking back and forth between my good foot and my newly transformed foot, and claimed my beautiful "Literate Yourself" bag. I was so happy. (Randy had disappeared outside and was calling anyone who would talk to him between 6:30 and 8 last night.) It didn't matter. He took me without complaining and it was a lovely evening.
You are officially caught up now, so I am going to sign off and go and read one of the books that was highlighted last night. I just may learn something. Until next time...read a book and LITERATE YOURSELF! Happy reading.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Shopping and Such
Well, I guess we've all determined that there won't be a blog every day. My sister, Linda, and her husband David, came yesterday from GA and we only had that day to catch up because they left this morning. David was here on business that took him out for the evening, so we hopped over to Belk's and shopped. It's always nice being able to shop with a sister or dear friend. There's nothing like it. Linda was so patient and just poked right along with me. (My friend, Angela, said she saw me on my first day out by myself, crossing the street, but she didn't have the heart to call out to me because I was going at a pretty fast clip and she didn't want me to get hit, for which I am eternally grateful.)
I'd like to take this moment to boast about our Belk's. From what I understand, the chain originated in Greensboro; therefore that store is considered their signature store. Winston Salem being so close, must have warranted a close second in putting their best foot forward, because I can honestly say that the merchandise at the Belk's here is comparable to a lot of the merchandise that Bloomingdale's carried at the Millenia Mall down in Orlando, such as: Lacoste, Lilly Pulitzer, and other trendy, high end designer names. I can't say the same for the Belk's down in Florida or outside of ours here.
Randy was awaiting us when we got home from Belk's, and was kind enough to take us to one of our local favorites, The Village Tavern. We all had hamburgers, as they make a good one, and I have been craving a GOOD hamburger for about a week now. I was not disappointed. Add french fries, half and half sweet tea, and who could ask for anything more? We celebrated Linda's birthday once we got home, with chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream. She got to open her presents too, a whole 2 weeks early. I love it when birthdays go on and on and on, because I have found that I am really not expecting too much the older I get, because I really don't NEED A THING! So anything is a nice surprise to me...a phone call, card, email or e-card. To tell you the truth, TIME seems to be the most valuable commodity around, and that's what the above take...time. May we give it away with joyful abandon and be blessed for it to reinforce the reminder to keep on giving.
We resumed the neighborhood Bible study this morning, after a short hiatus. We gained 4 new women, but two were not able to be there. I love these ladies. They are just what I needed to feel a part of the true meaning of the word community when we moved into the neighborhood. Add the Amos Cottage Guild ladies, and the sense of worthwhileness that goes along with helping fundraise for a therapeutic day program for children with emotional/discipline problems get a head start prior to kindergarten, and you've got the beginnings of a great existence.
I'm posting this now in anticipation that I can always come back and edit it before everyone starts to read it. Hope you are having a great day!
I'd like to take this moment to boast about our Belk's. From what I understand, the chain originated in Greensboro; therefore that store is considered their signature store. Winston Salem being so close, must have warranted a close second in putting their best foot forward, because I can honestly say that the merchandise at the Belk's here is comparable to a lot of the merchandise that Bloomingdale's carried at the Millenia Mall down in Orlando, such as: Lacoste, Lilly Pulitzer, and other trendy, high end designer names. I can't say the same for the Belk's down in Florida or outside of ours here.
Randy was awaiting us when we got home from Belk's, and was kind enough to take us to one of our local favorites, The Village Tavern. We all had hamburgers, as they make a good one, and I have been craving a GOOD hamburger for about a week now. I was not disappointed. Add french fries, half and half sweet tea, and who could ask for anything more? We celebrated Linda's birthday once we got home, with chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream. She got to open her presents too, a whole 2 weeks early. I love it when birthdays go on and on and on, because I have found that I am really not expecting too much the older I get, because I really don't NEED A THING! So anything is a nice surprise to me...a phone call, card, email or e-card. To tell you the truth, TIME seems to be the most valuable commodity around, and that's what the above take...time. May we give it away with joyful abandon and be blessed for it to reinforce the reminder to keep on giving.
We resumed the neighborhood Bible study this morning, after a short hiatus. We gained 4 new women, but two were not able to be there. I love these ladies. They are just what I needed to feel a part of the true meaning of the word community when we moved into the neighborhood. Add the Amos Cottage Guild ladies, and the sense of worthwhileness that goes along with helping fundraise for a therapeutic day program for children with emotional/discipline problems get a head start prior to kindergarten, and you've got the beginnings of a great existence.
I'm posting this now in anticipation that I can always come back and edit it before everyone starts to read it. Hope you are having a great day!
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