Murder on the Deck

I was right there and heard it happen. I saw a bird flying across the deck, and THUMP! It hit the side of the house. Not seeing anything, I jumped up and opened the sliding glass door. The poor nuthatch was sitting on the deck, so I kept as still as possible. His body leaned way over, then he righted himself. I thought he had lockjaw when he opened his beak and didn’t close it. He listed to the other side, still with his beak open. I withdrew as slowly and quietly as possible, not wanting to scare him even more. Every once in a while I stretched my neck over the computer, only to see his body there, as still as could be. I was greatly pleased when I looked out and saw nothing where he had been. Evidently he was able to gather himself together and fly off.

The deck plants also had a tough time of it during the night. I woke to see the pots left for dead on the deck. There was no great wind that we heard, so I’m wondering if the baby raccoon neighbor Bob saw a few days ago was the marauder. There was no clue left behind – a mystery, for sure.

Lastly, I was facing the deck when I must have hit something on the computer that brought up the Dell webcam program. It mesmerized me, lured me in, if you will. There were all sorts of silly effects beckoning, each one more far fetched than the last. I posed with the jail bars but couldn’t find how to snap the photo. There was no mystery, really. I’d switched hands to use the mouse and forgot to think mirror image-ly. The result? Judge for yourself. I was alive and well, but I looked like death warmed over. E-jail is not for me!

My hair is not pink, and I was wearing purple.

Hot and Cold

There were days before we left on vacation that it was too cool for us to eat on the porch. I would remember that fact, not the numbers related to temperature. We packed both light and heavy clothes, including a winter coat for me. I used everything I took! In Oklahoma the temperature was 90 degrees in the afternoon, and in Colorado we woke to 19 degrees.

The morning after we got back to NC, I found the temperature broken. Well, maybe the weather wasn’t broken, but the little thermometer we’d hung on the bedroom deck was lying face down. In a way, it was a relief because it never worked properly. The silly thing often registered 20 degrees colder or hotter than it should have been. I would work up to a good shiver and discover the outside air was really warm enough to shed a sweater.

Perhaps we got used to colder weather, or maybe our walk to the creek warmed us from the inside. We had breakfast on the porch. It was a bit shocking to look at the garden, which was green when we left. All the green had disappeared. I missed everything except the leaves on the wicked wisteria. I rejoiced in the bare branches which have now quit reaching out for everything in sight.

Amy came over to visit, and we talked to our hearts’ content. I hadn’t started the clock, so we couldn’t see it and feel guilty about being together as long as we wanted. When she left, we found a box of mail on the porch. The post office held our mail, so there was three week’s worth sitting there. I couldn’t resist weighing it. I was going to lug the box into the bathroom, but it was much easier to bring the scale to the box. The weight? 22.4 pounds! I suspect Christmas catalogs accounted for 20 pounds.

The sun was shining on a cloud on top of the mountain, and Amy commented on it. The white looked like snow. I ran for the camera, thinking a photo would be my rebuttal to the question of which is better, the Rockies or the Smokies. Unfortunately, by the time I snapped the picture, the sun had slipped, and the un-snow was not as dramatic as it had been two minutes before. You can probably tell that my heart leans toward the Smokies.

Daylight Losings

Without my trusty phone, I would have been lost. Waking too early, I couldn’t remember whether to add or subtract an hour from the bedside clock. We were away when the time changed. I thought that was a good thing, because we changed time zones so frequently that I was never disoriented. There was no comparison to “yesterday this would have been three o’clock.” I simply consulted the phone and went on. We began our trip in Eastern Daylight time and subsequently went through Central Daylight, Mountain Daylight, Arizona never changing time, Mountain Standard, Central Standard, and back to Eastern Standard. There was nothing standard about our clocks at home. Electric ones were off an hour, and wind-ups showed when they died.

The first time I woke, it was pitch dark. When the alarm rang, the first thing I did was look out the door, reaching with my eyes to see the mountain. I might have imagined the ridge line, but I could almost feel it out there, waiting for me.

I had stayed up way too late, and the photo shows the way my sneakers landed. Don’t they look eager to walk? We had two long walks on the three-week trip, and my shoes and I were eager to get back in the rut.

Shoes say "Let's go!" — Shoes say “Let’s go!”

Home!

We crossed from Illinois into Kentucky for a compressed visit with my childhood friend Sue. We were physically there about two hours, but she and I made it last by texting the rest of the day. The two dachshunds were quiet after a brief frenzy as we came in. When John and I were seated, Sue brought in TBow, her son John’s Great Dane. My photos don’t show the massive dog in all his canine splendor. Just as Sue predicted, he accepted us after sniffing and leaning on us. He is John’s guard dog, a most protective animal.

John and I feasted on the special picnic Sue packed for us. We opened everything at our favorite rest area east of Nashville. We had barbecue, sauce, buns, slaw, potato salad, and apples. I thought I was getting a photo of the paper plates and special napkins, but it’s obvious my focus was on the food!

The trip that day was uneventful until we came to the gorge through the mountains near our home. Traffic crawled for a bit. We passed the scene of an accident – one car facing the wrong way and tons of policemen there. The crash must have happened some time before, when I’m sure everything came to a complete halt. We were most thankful to pull into our driveway with only a little Colorado mud on the car. I’m also wearing a bit of it, since the backs of my knees touched the Jeep almost every time I got out.

I gave John high marks for his excellent planning. We saw everyone we intended to see and took in the sights on his list, plus a few more. He thinks he drove a bit over 5,000 miles. That should make New York feel closer to me, since our usual destination is only 800 miles from our home. Good try, Anne.

The best ending came with a very warm welcome from the neighbors. How good it was to be home among dear friends!

Superman!

We stopped for the night in Southern Illinois. The town seemed tired. Despite a glitzy casino on the river, the houses and businesses had seen better days. Many houses were in an advanced state of disrepair. We were surprised to see a museum about Superman and a large statue of him at the county courthouse. There were tourists seriously focusing their cameras at the statue. We wondered what the connection was, and John came up with the answer. We were in Metropolis Illinois, and Metropolis is the name of the city where Superman worked.

Did you know that?

After I looked at my photo, I noticed the fence around Superman. Isn’t it odd that this bigger than life character has to be protected from the marauding hordes?

Kansas and Missouri

Before we left Colorado, we had to say goodbye to Janet and Tom. We needed one picture of dog Fanny with the group. She was a rescue with lovely manners. We spent a lot of time away from the house, but Fanny endured it beautifully. They would give her a bone and put her in the fenced courtyard if we were going to be out for a long time. What a welcome we’d get when we came back!

As we were leaving, we took one last picture of the prairie with the snow-capped mountains way in the distance. That was a short way from Janet and Tom’s.

There were a surprising number of working oil wells in Kansas. Most of the ones we saw in Oklahoma were idle. Kansas also had lots of wind farms.

Next to our motel in Abilene was a bowling alley. I loved the name — Tornado Alley Lanes.

John and I remained quiet in the breakfast room, listening to one couple from Texas and one from North Carolina. The conversation was amusing to me.

NC man said, “You’ve got a big state.”

TX people were originally from Kansas and upstate NY, but they chose TX for retirement. TX man said, “I know our state is big.”

NC man, “Whin you git thar and see mile 675 on a milepost, ya know it’s big.”

The TX/KS woman was there for her class reunion. NC wanted to know the size of her class. There were 5 students in her level all through grade school. She answered the next question by saying she keeps up with two on Facebook and has email addresses for the other two. We talked a bit, but we didn’t have time for me to ask how KS met NY. Undoubtedly there was a big story there.

Kansas, being a very flat state, was a good transition from the raw Rockies and our beloved Smokies. I needed a breather between the two sets of mountains. You wouldn’t want mountain overload! When I was writing about flatness in the car, we came to the Flint Hills section of the state. There were rocky outcroppings, and the terrain looked like the Southwest with mesas and washes.

Goldilocks Shower

I had a perfect shower, not too cold and not too hot — a Goldilocks shower. The controls obeyed me. Boring, huh? The rest of the day was anything but humdrum. In fact, it was probably one of the most challenging and satisfying musical days of my life. We had a chance to visit with John’s second cousin, too.

We were prepared to sing the anthem and one other piece from Thursday’s rehearsal at Janet and Tom’s church. The run-though before the service made us conversant with half the service music the choir was singing. Almost everything else was sight reading. We trooped upstairs into the narthex. I saw Janet disappear, but the others melted away, too. Where was I supposed to be? Someone nabbed me and pointed to my spot in the lineup at the back of the sanctuary for the procession. Having never seen the inside of the church, I quit singing while negotiating the stairs. It would be most embarrassing to fall in front of the whole congregation. I thought I was home free when we sat down.

The Lutheran churches we attend almost all have communion every Sunday, but this was a Methodist church. Surely they wouldn’t. There on the altar/communion table was evidence we would have it. It’s a bit nerve wracking not to know how a church does it. I followed Janet through the distribution and wondered how to get back in the choir. John came and stood behind me, so I moved to the left. All of a sudden I realized there was a huge screen blocking the way, and I was face to face with it. What now? John hissed to duck under it. There was another couple going behind the altar area, turning, going up and down steps, and getting us back to the choir behind the scenes. At the close of the service, I wondered if we would recess as we had come in. No, I followed another woman beside the hidden organ, down some steps, and eventually back to the choir room. The other three didn’t and didn’t appear. I wondered if I’d missed some instructions. I never did find out what I missed.

After a quick lunch, we went to the first rehearsal of new music for Tom’s group — St. Martin’s Chamber Choir. This small group was sight reading very difficult music. We three sat in the pews following along with the scores. The singers were fantastic. Once in a while they stopped to iron out a difficult measure or so. Otherwise, they just sat there and sang at almost concert level. One fellow hooked a little tuning fork in his shirt. When they needed a fresh note, he hit it, held it to his ear, and sang one note. From that, everyone got their starting pitches. Any good choir can do that, but I was amused that he hit his head or glasses to get the note.

John’s second cousin, Anna, was waiting for us after the rehearsal for a short visit. She is the stunning daughter of Carolyn and Eric from Minnesota. Anna lives north of Denver and teaches kindergarten. We had a wonderful time with her. She helped us buy tickets for the light rail that took us into the center of Denver. There was a Bronco game about to start, so we knew parking would be impossible.

Anna, Janet, Tom, and John in the light rail car

Janet and Tom heard there were some good restaurants in the old Union Station. We didn’t have reservations, but we were admitted to one of the upscale restaurants because we were willing to sit at a communal table. We found out that meant the very long table tucked away to the side. Evidently this place never moves tables to accommodate a group. It was perfect. No one came to eat at the other half of the table, and the area was quiet. I told the others that for one who was used to going to McDonald’s, the wait staff was a bit intimidating. We agreed to order a family meal that seemed to satisfy everyone.

Janet, Anne, John, Anna, and Tom in Union Station restaurant

We had never seen the way this restaurant delivered the bill. There was a wooden cube with the bill rolled up and stuck in a round hole in the top. We surmised the other smaller hole was the holder for a pen. The fellows put credit cards in the slots on the side. Has anyone else seen anything like that?

Anna was delightful. She talked with us as if there were no generation gap, laughed easily, and was a wonderful addition to the evening. They say pretty is as pretty does, and she was beautiful on all counts. We asked about vacations, and she said she began planning the next one as soon as the last one was over. She is already practicing rock climbing in preparation for a trip to Mt. Rainier next summer. Ice climbing and hiking are other things she likes to do. We were so happy John had arranged for her to join us.

An aside for Lutherans – If you’ve heard of the late F. Melius Christiansen, former conductor of St. Olaf College choir for 30 years, you’ll be interested to know that a very good friend of Anna is his great, great granddaughter. Not sure of the number of “greats” at this point. We laughed when Anna said the young woman is tone deaf.

Halloween Shower

If I didn’t know better, I would have thought John booby trapped the shower. When it was my turn, I found two hooks had jumped the rod. He wouldn’t have done that on purpose, would he? More likely he was the jerk, jerking the curtain aside. I climbed up and put them back, gingerly started the shower, and found I set the water too cool. That was in great contrast to the day before when I had it too hot. Maybe the next time I’ll have a Goldilocks shower, not too hot and not too cold.

We rode a train, the Georgetown Loop. I’ll skip the history, because I don’t know it. I do know we bought tickets for the open car and feared we wouldn’t stay warm enough. We piled the car with hats, gloves, light wraps, and heavy coats. It was downright cold and very windy when we stood in line to board. Brrr! To our delight, the “open” car had Plexiglas windows and some heat. Families with young children had blankets in addition to winter coats, and they soon shed most of their layers. Since we were not totally consumed with staying warm, we could look out at the majestic mountains and tumbling stream.

John offered to go by himself to the Colorado Train Museum, but the three of us agreed to go with him. Things were hopping there! It was Halloween, and most of the young children and a surprising number of adults were in costume. We non-trainaholics sat on a bench watching families line up for the ride behind a steam engine while John walked through the outdoor exhibits.

On the way home, Tom drove us through Denver. We saw some gentrified residential areas, the medical center, many interesting buildings, and the airport. The additions to the top of the building resemble mountains, some higher and some shorter. I was pleased to see Pike’s Peak almost all the way home. We weren’t close enough to take pictures, but the mountain was totally free of clouds. As Janet pointed out, the mountain has a very wide base, so you don’t realize how high it is when you see it from a distance. I’m still impressed with the ruggedness and snow cappedness, but I definitely have not lost my love of the Smokies.

Touring Colorado

Let’s get the bad part over first. My hosts and John didn’t know how I embarrassed them. We had a marvelous breakfast of yogurt and a special croissant before setting out on a tour of Janet and Tom’s area. We went to their son Andrew’s grave, a lovely site with a marker, a boulder they selected, and a bench made by Tom’s dad.

Tom, Janet, and John at Andrew's grave — Tom, Janet, and John at Andrew’s grave

We also drove through Castle Rock Canyon, a place Andrew used to visit regularly, and saw a broad view of the prairie where they live.

We ate lunch in Colorado Springs at a place that has the best French onion soup Janet and Tom ever tasted. It was very crowded. All the tables were taken, so Tom waited to stake out a table while the rest of us ordered. My mishap came when I tried to take off my coat to hang it over the back of the chair. The inner drawstring was stuck. I turned away from most of the crowd, fiddled as discretely as I could, and discovered that silly string was stuck in my zipper!!!! How do these things happen to me? It seemed forever as I struggled, wishing I were Houdini. Whew! Free at last! I relaxed the rest of the day after that horror. We went across the street to see the marvelous sculptures done by Michael Garman. We also drove by a display engine and the station for the cog railway that goes up Pike’s Peak.

Driving through the Valley of the Gods was wonderful. These fantastic rock formations could be seen by driving the circular road around them.

We got a peek at Pike’s peak, though it was covered by a cloud. I was thrilled to have seen it, because I had no idea it was on the itinerary. At times it is visible from Janet and Tom’s house.

We ended our tour by walking into the chapel at the Air Force Academy. The building was most impressive.

John, Tom, Janet at Air Force Academy chapel

After general conversation over dinner, we had a musical evening. Tom kept music playing through excellent speakers. We laughed about funny things that happened in college, and I particularly enjoyed Tom’s account of his worst nightmare coming true. A director friend begged him to sing in an opera only days away, and Tom went to two rehearsals. Having only his part, he didn’t know when he was to sing or how it fit with the other singers and orchestra. He got through it, I’m sure because he is such a good musician. The review in the paper gave him high credits and did not mention the other supporting singers.

When I asked for it, Janet sketched out her choral composition for eight voices on the piano. This is her current project. She let me look at two books she has on modern notation. I had no idea new ways of writing music developed after I finished college. She also played a piano composition that has been performed. She can write things that her hands can’t play! My hands wouldn’t be big enough for it, either. We decided all our hands should go to bed and rest up for the next day.

I Was a Jerk

Before we even walked in the house of our friends Janet and Tom, Tom said, “I’ll show you how to work the shower.”

I thought he was teasing me about my issues with showers on this vacation and thought nothing more of it. Meanwhile we had a delicious dinner and went to choir rehearsal. The four of us had sung together in college, and they invited us to sing in their church choir – a marvelous, challenging experience!

When it was time to go to bed, Tom came downstairs with us and said he would demonstrate the shower. Golly Pete! It was the same type of faucet/shower head arrangement as the one in Phoenix. Tom took no chances with me and actually ran water, showing me how to pull down a bit of the faucet to make the water come out above. OK. I could do this.

The next morning I did as John AND Tom advised, got the water temperature to the right level and transferred it to the shower head. Don’t ask me how I do these things to get myself in trouble. I thought I gently pulled the curtain closed. No, I was a jerk. I must have jerked it, because four of the hooks jumped off the rod and entwined around each other. I was grunting, in John’s hearing, I’m sure. Those hooks behaved like fishhooks and refused to let go. They had dug in for a tough fight. I took a deep breath, slowed down, and squinted to see what I was doing without my glasses. Finally! Everything was on track, and I could get clean. Shower senility is not easy to deal with!