At some point, I became aware that the generator was running, and that meant there was no electricity. Normally that doesn’t bother me, since most things are connected to the generator. I continued getting ready to meet David in town as planned. It was as I carried garbage to the car, I realized I didn’t know how to open the electric garage door. The button didn’t respond when I pushed it. I’ve lived here 12 years and never needed a car when it was stuck in the garage. Texting David was the quickest way to notify him, and I caught him before he left work. I would let him know if I was able to get out and if I could lock the door after exiting.

A cord was hanging down from the garage door, and I could reach it and pull it. For a short person, it was tricky to pull up the door while pulling that cord that locked the garage. I did it! I wouldn’t contact David until I backed the car out and closed the heavy door. Remembering that the garage door in New York had a handle on the outside, I looked for one here. No handle. If this door was as heavy as that one, I wouldn’t be able to close it slowly. Warning myself to get my toes back, I pulled the door down. Ah! It wasn’t as heavy as I feared. I was free! I got back in the car and let David know I was on the way to meet him in town. I was at least half an hour late, but I made it without having to get help.

After eating and shopping, I saw the power company had texted, saying electricity had been restored to my home. That was nice to know. I could go home as usual, not needing to get out of the car to put it inside the garage.

What a wonderful week I had! Old friends, who were former neighbors, came to stay with me. I did not ask for permission to use their names here. Having been accused of stalking people with a camera, I did not take their photos. Being under the same roof with a camera might have made them uncomfortable, so I played by incognito rules. Nevertheless, I had the time of my life and enjoyed every minute.

I learned a new trick with the house. By closing one door to the hall, the guests essentially had the bedroom wing of the house to themselves. I’ll bet family members will appreciate that.

We did a tourist thing by going on the Blue Ridge Parkway to see the fall colors. We went in the middle of the week and didn’t see the throngs of people we heard were there on weekends. We also went to several local shops.

I would never expect guests to bring their own coffeepot and make excellent coffee every morning, but it was delightful. She vacuumed AND washed the filters of the vacuum cleaner. In self defense, I’ll explain that we have his and hers vacuums, and she used John’s machine. She also saw the fall wreath in the hall and hung it on the door. I was looking for the hook, but she found a paperclip that did the job. He used a blower to clean my garage floor, as well as to remove leaves from the yard and front porch. Knowing these people, they could have fixed other things without my knowledge.

Our activities were not quiet, since we were talking much of the time. We all agreed to a rest period in the afternoon, and they did not stay up late or get up early. Visiting is so much easier when everyone is rested!! I had a delightful time and would welcome their coming again, although I don’t think it is likely to happen.

The pain associated with a smashed finger was minimal. Two days later, I could use that finger almost normally. It was the color that amazed me. Both top and bottom of the finger had turned Used-Blood Purple! Although completely natural, I do not recommend this type of finger painting.

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The warnings were insistent; there was a freeze alert for the early hours of Sunday. The very heavy concrete birdbath had water in it, and I felt I had to dismantle it. I was confident I could lift off the top and set it on the ground, since I had done this by myself only two years ago. It did not go as planned. It was too heavy for me, even with the water removed. My hand ended up between the top and the stand. As I heaved, it slid over my hand onto the ground. Instant pain shot through me, and I tore off the gardening glove. There was no blood! I could move all my fingers with nothing flopping in the wind! I rushed inside to run cold water over three of the fingers, because I couldn’t tell what had been damaged. Keeping the hand elevated seemed the thing to do until the tip of the ring finger started turning purple. A tiny mug was perfect for holding one ice cube and one finger, so I did that off and on the rest of the day.

From the time I saw the hand could move until now, I have given constant thanks to God for protecting me. It could have been so awful! I’m not worrying in reverse. I’m grateful the damage was not serious.

I usually look at the weather on my phone in the evening, so I know what to expect when I wake up. I must have dismissed it as inconsequential, because the chance of rain was 15%. That’s really low, if you consider the chance of no rain would be 85%. I did not check the screen before going out, because I was two minutes late. I blame the clock for that. For some reason it quit working in the middle of the night, and I planned to quit playing a game when the clock chimed 8:00. I stepped out confidently, knowing it shouldn’t rain on me according to last night’s forecast. Goodness! The sky was completely overcast, but I walked up the street. Mist was hitting my face at the top of the street. Going toward the first little stream, I felt the moisture was a bit more than a mist.

I wasn’t cold, but my sweatshirt was not going to repel heavy mist. I turned back, even though the percentage was still only 15%. Yes, I had stopped and checked. Normally, when you change course, the clouds notice and quit spitting. This time the mist continued. I came to a shocking conclusion that I had never thought of before. That figure of 15% really meant the moisture hitting me was at a low rate. Then 50% must mean sprinkling steadily, and 100% would be very heavy rain. If I had worn a water-repellent jacket, I would not have had this amazing revelation. It took me 32 years of walking six days a week to come face to face with this life-changing mathematical fact.

I’ve been to grandson David’s church a number of times, and I still haven’t learned how to use the bulletin of the day. It is always better when daughter Kate is with me, because she is better at understanding what is going on. Reminder – I wear hearing aids and reading glasses. On Sunday I saw some numbers on the hymn board, but there was no indication when music fit in the scheme of things. I did see the scripture readings for the day and could follow as they were read aloud. Beyond that, I was totally lost. I thought people in the pew ahead had music in their bulletins, but I couldn’t be certain of that. Mine had no music.

After the service, I told David how much I floundered. He looked at the bulletin I was still holding, as I said I had checked the date. He agreed the date was correct, but he pointed out that it was for the early service, not the late service I had bumbled through. Aarrgghh!

I know what happened. I rode with David, and therefore was quite early, since he had to get robed to sing in the choir. Because of repairs being made outside, I had to enter through a side door rather than the front door. I picked up a bulletin from a stack on the table. No one had removed the freshly redundant ones. When ushers saw me sitting in a pew, several checked to see if I needed a bulletin. I said I already had one, not knowing I needed the kind they were holding.

There are still things to conquer, though. Next time I’ll make sure I have a guide for the proper service. I will also attempt to understand numbers with S or T before them. I think the S stands for Supplement, a booklet found at the ends of pews. I always sit in the middle of a pew, leaving the aisle seats for late-comers. I do hope to someday feel comfortable with that service.

The day before the remnants of the hurricane were to arrive in the mountains, I received several very severe warnings on line. It seems emergency sirens had been placed all around my county. These devices also have voice announcements, and I would be told where to go to evacuate. I think the forecasts for Hurricane Helene truly missed the mark, and the weathermen would not be caught short again. I could expect severe flooding and must leave my home on foot at a moment’s notice. I laughed, because the nearest siren would be at the fire station about a mile away. That building is right beside the creek, which would flood before anything else. Nevertheless. I had been notified to expect flooding in the area. I live on the lower slope of a mountain, and it would take a catastrophic amount of water to reach my house.

It was already sprinkling when I got up on hurricane day. There was no wind, so I quickly used the washing machine and dryer before the electricity went out. Once I saw the bushes whipping about, and all the garden wind spinners were whirling. That lasted all of five minutes. The rest of the daylight hours were the same – light rain and very little wind.

Grandson David was dog-sitting in the next town for two nights. After he fed the dogs and got them ready for the day, he went out to lunch with me. We ate barbecue just down the road, shopped for a few things in Dollar General, and came back to my house. I asked him to help me use the burrito method to get my winter duvet ready. He has helped me do this for a couple of years. I had the fresh cover laid out on the bed, inside out, and the duvet lying on top of it. We just had to roll it up, turn it, and unroll it. I always get stuck in the middle of that operation. David doesn’t even have to watch the video, he just figures it out every time. I don’t know what I’d do without him. Tonight I will be warm, even if the electricity fails.

The photo shows a pile of pulled pork, fries, and David’s most favorite mac and cheese in the area.

As David was leaving, we both noticed blue sky above white clouds right above us. The radar still shows rain coming through the night, but that should be over in the morning.

The following was hand-written on an 8×11 piece of paper and hung on the back of a porch chair that I took across the street:

Words of

Welcome!

because I’ve already waved at you.

You can use the chair to sit on the front porch, on the back porch, or inside.

My name is Auntie Moron. 987-654-3210

Please text if I can help you with anything. I usually don’t answer a call if I don’t know who is calling.

I knew the house across the street had changed hands, but I saw only a woman driving a car from behind the house. I had waved at her as she waited for the real estate agent to join her. Call me crazy, but the only way I could think of getting her attention was leaving something large on the front porch. She texted me, and we then sat on my porch for a little while. It was wonderful to know her first name and to begin to get to know her. Her husband won’t be here permanently for a while, but at least we have made a start at being neighborly.

For those of you who think I stalk people with a camera, I want you to know that I did NOT take her picture. I would ask first and snap only with permission. I will find out eventually if she is allergic to cameras.