Defending the ‘Hood

I was taking my usual sunrise walk when a little black dog barked and ran at me. I’ve met the dog before, but evidently s/he didn’t remember. With a name like Raven, how could you tell whether the animal was male or female? For the sake of brevity, it will now be referred to as he. He was in a frenzy of barking, so I stopped, held out my hand, and spoke softly. A woman opened the front door, yelling his name. If I hadn’t known the name before, I would have memorized it before the incident was over. I waved, but woman and dog were equally oblivious. When yelling like a banshee had no effect on Raven, the woman ran out to the street barefoot and in her pajamas. What was the proper etiquette? I walked back, hoping Raven would follow and put the woman out of her embarrassment. I guess we were all doing our jobs. Raven defended his family. The woman tried to control her pet, and I pretended I hadn’t noticed her failure. She finally suggested I walk on, which I did. I found it amusing that the way I often meet people through their pets had the opposite effect this morning. At this moment that poor woman is probably hoping she’ll never see me again.

I’ve been aware of saucer-shaped spider webs since we first moved here. In October the webs looked like a special Halloween decoration on the evergreens at the top of our street. Today the webs in the sheep pasture looked as if they had ghostly roofs on top. Down in the valley, the webs were closer to the road. Thankfully I’ve never seen a single spider, so I can view the webs as art. A double set of webs on the same weed suggested a two-story living arrangement. Next door was a mother/daughter abode. Most days the webs are invisible, but they were highly visible today with the morning mist clinging to every thread.

Back in the Mountains

John may have a different perspective, but I thoroughly enjoyed our drive back to North Carolina because he was more relaxed than usual. He is taking things easier until his heart catheterization on May 21 to find out why he suddenly developed angina. The doctor told him to listen to his body in knowing when to back off. I just might be able to keep up with this now low key person.

The moon was full while we were in Stony Brook. Fog and mist obscured a more dramatic view the day after our return, but I took a photo another day to show off the moon and my mountains.

Our iris were about to bloom when we left, and I was very pleased to find they waited for us to return. Pinks burst into bloom at the border. They provide a sweet aroma for our outdoor lunches. From the porch, I realized we had rhododendron blooming. When I raised the toy camera, the old oak tree tried to push into the photo. Various bushes and trees have been stick figures in our garden all winter, and I had no idea what they were. When I walked down the path to examine the rhododendron, I saw lavender flowers on the bush nearby. Lilac!! Wonderful! We’ve never had lilac in our yard before. More lavender blooms beckoned on a tripod trellis. It was clematis which tried to keep blooming last fall, but the flowers are strutting their stuff now. John discovered the wisteria blooms hiding on the underside of the pergola. No wonder the former owners had a bench out there! It’s the only way to enjoy them at length without getting a crick in your neck. The mystery plants at the moment have yellow blossoms. I don’t know that I was ever introduced to them. There is one more shrub/tree just putting out leaves, so maybe in a few days we’ll know what it is. Then again, maybe not.

Shower Shock

John dropped me off in the village as he took Nate to get a haircut in Setauket. Tom was already heading back to his car with his dogs, but I was there in time to visit with him. Dave stopped to chat with us, and then I walked down to talk with Dennis and Dave. It was wonderful to be with them again. We had show and tell at Tom’s car where I saw his antique silver cup from France, a rarity. There was also a lovely pickle fork with two tines that ended in barbs similar to a fish hook. Those pickles won’t escape this time! Dennis showed me one of his hearing aids he got after we moved away.

Back at the motel, Nate offered to be first in line for a shower. He came out saying he’d let the water run for 8 minutes, and it never got warm. We waited a bit, and I tried it out. John and I had warm showers there yesterday, why was it not working today? I pulled the lever to the hottest level. Brrrr! Ice water! I called through the door asking John to fill the ice bucket with hot water from the sink, thinking I’d take a spit bath. That would have worked, but I tried the faucet again, putting the lever at a medium level. Aha! The silly thing was installed backwards. By rights, lefthander John should have been the one to discover that. The fellows were pleased with the findings and took happy showers after me.

Nate was struggling to comb his hair, having to lean way over to see himself in the low hung mirror. John suggested he kneel. Problem solved!

Choir rehearsal was fun. We saw our friends, rehearsed the piece for tomorrow, and left. We visited Grampy, enjoying him as much as always. I took only one shot and had no idea it was terrible of Grampy. He looked wonderful in person, but the photo deformed his face. Though it was good of Kate and Nate, we’ll leave it unseen

For lunch we had Station Pizza at the beach parking lot. That sentence probably made five people drool. The day was perfect – a cloudless blue sky with a fresh breeze blowing off the water.

Scandinavians

Our first stop in New York was to have lunch with friends. I’m still kicking myself that I forgot to get out the camera. We had a good time, and John for one, was probably glad there were no photos. It was great to catch up with Nancy (of Swedish ancestry) and George.

We had a chance to visit with Ruth a short while on the way to Sons of Norway. We had never been to their hall before, but the prime attraction of the evening was a lecture by nephew Lars. He had a riveting talk about Vikings. Brilliant! He pitched the evening to his audience perfectly.

Barbara introduced Lars by telling a short story about her son in the third grade. He was invited to talk to the 8^th grade class about the gods of mythology. Everyone knew he was already an expert on the subject. After school Barbara asked him if he had been nervous.

Lars replied, “I was nervous when I walked down the hall, but as soon as I began, I was fine.”

He is still totally at ease in front of a crowd, throwing out funny comments that got a laugh every time. He had the audience in the palm of his hand. I loved the way he started. He said that for once he was very comfortable with his first name, knowing no one would consider it unusual in that place. I learned things about the Vikings that I hadn’t known before and was very impressed at the way all those foreign names rolled off his tongue as if they were his cousins.

The dessert after the lecture included Norwegian cakes and pastries. Ruth won a cutting board in the raffle. You’d think we were at church, being the last ones to leave.

Ruts in the Road

You’d think, after the myriad number of trips we’ve taken between New York and North Carolina, we’d have worn ruts in the road. The landscape is certainly familiar, but there is always something new to see. Yesterday was a redbud day. Redbud trees have finished blooming near our home, but we began to see them in Virginia. They were glorious, splaying out their lavender bloom covered branches toward the sky. We couldn’t drive for more than a few seconds before another bunch waved from the roadside. For some reason, Pennsylvania dropped them. We wondered if the season had finished, but then we saw several mature trees blooming in a yard. We’ve also traveled north far enough to catch forsythia in her yellow dress. It’s fun having two spring seasons in a day.

As we settled in our motel room, I told John there was something unusual. With wonder in my voice, I said, “I sat down on the bed!”

He laughed with immediate understanding. He hears my launch and landing routine on the high four-poster at home. He knows when he hears a yelp and thud that I’ve failed and landed with my feet on the floor instead of body on the bed.

Friends in the Village

Tom was walking around the parking lot when I arrived. We had a verbal-only show and tell. His friend, the picker, found three items for him yesterday – a 150 year old cradle in perfect condition, a wine bottle opener that had silver on the antler handle, and a cast iron plant holder. I wondered what he’d use the cradle for, and he said it’s the coming thing to use it for a magazine holder. Who knew?

Actually, Tom used another term for the antler corkscrew. I understood what he was talking about because of the way his hand was shaped and the way he turned it slightly as he spoke. He called it a screw pull. I made him repeat it so that I could memorize the words. When you look back on a pun, you realize the best ones pop out, unbidden. That’s what happened with the screw pull. With almost no direction from me, I heard my voice say, “You have no scruples using it, I guess.”

We walked all the way to the bathhouse, and I touched the railing with both hands, one for me and one for Nancy who now lives in St. Louis/Chicago. Dennis talked about his 90+ dad who was put in a nursing home Friday and is having a difficult time adjusting.

Dave drew up with a flourish at the marina. Tom said, “You don’t stop for me!”

Dave began to say he sees Tom all the time, but he jumped in to play the one up-man-ship game. He said, “I ran out of gas. Coasted here.”

Fast thinking, Dave.

Glancing into Dave’s car, Tom asked, “Did you clean out your car, Dave?”

“Naw,” Dave replied. “Must have gone around a curve too fast.”

I asked, “How would you clean it out? Open the windows and speed around corners?”

Dave replied, “I’d clean it the same way I clean my house. Open the doors and use a blower.”

I do miss the daily repartee of these fellows.

Last night Nate commented on the full moon dressed in salmon or pink. It was more white this morning, both times magnified near the horizon. It’s always special to have moon set and sun rise within minutes of each other.

I did almost my whole walk, going to the traffic light and into Avalon on the way back. The most insistent bird song came from red-winged blackbirds, very active in the reeds near Hercules. For old time’s sake, I listened to the singing stones and took yet another photo.

Concordia Concert

We had a wonderful time visiting the family at the Brook. It was my first time to eat in the commons — most impressed with the building and the food. We even had time to play outside on a perfect spring day.

Sunday was quite a blur. First, Nate found a new way to use the midget mirror in the motel. He sat in a chair to comb his hair. We went to Sunday School and to the long confirmation service. It was good to see our friends there, though there wasn’t much time to talk. We were invited to the lunch for one of the confirmands, Dan. We had some appetizers, and just before the burgers were coming off the grill, we had to leave. I rode with Kate, and Nate went with John. We arrived at David’s college about 10 minutes before the concert began. Whew! That was close!

I expected to relax and enjoy the first performance of the tour program. The singers entered on both sides of the hall, singing to an insistent drum beat. Soon I spotted David and sat back in my chair. After a piece or so, half the choir filed off the risers while a smaller group did the next piece. I couldn’t find David. My heart lurched when I did spot him. He was turning pages for Deb, the piano accompanist. Oh! My! Few things are more nerve wracking than turning pages. If you make a mistake, you could ruin everything. Please, Lord, don’t let him knock the book off. I couldn’t take my eyes off Deb with David’s hand coming up to turn the pages. David, make sure you turn only one page. Deb was really into the music, nodding her head as she pounded the keys. I focused on her nods, trying to see when the cue would come for David to flip the page. Keep one eye on the music and one on Deb, David. I never could tell when she reached the end of the page. Thank heaven he knew. I almost slumped with relief when that was over.

The tour choir wasn’t very large, but their power was amazing. The college students sang with maturity and confidence. Their voices made the rafters ring, yet they could sing so softly you found you were holding your breath to hear them. They had memorized everything, leaving them no excuse for not watching the director.

After the program, we met David’s tour roommate and his mother. The oddest thing was that Nate was almost a soulmate for the roommate. Both wear suits to school, carry attache cases, and have the same last name! We’ll see David and Davin in a week and a half when the choir sings in one of the churches we attend in Asheville. I took a picture of Nate wearing David’s stole while they were horsing around after the concert. We ate dinner at the diner where we used to take Lise and Kate when they were at Concordia. We split then, Kate going to New Jersey, David back to campus, and we to Long Island. It had been quite a day.

One Walk in Pictures

Tuesday was brought to us by the letter F – fog and frost. Before I left the house around 6:30, I checked the thermometer. It was 36F, a comfortable margin for our new plants. Frost was forecast for higher elevations. We made it through, or so I thought. There was nothing unusual about the day until I went down the steep hill and found the valley overlaid with fog. Taking a picture was useless, since all you would have seen was white blankness. The first bit of color was on the bank of the creek – little yellow buttercups. These same plants were under water only a week ago after heavy rain. The creek is back to its normal winter level. 0402815 Buttercups by the creek

After seeing the creek, I walked past the firehouse as the sun struggled to gain mastery over the fog.

The fog was still winning as I walked back up the hill, but I looked south and greeted the tops of the mountains there.

Coming back to our street, I was surprised to see white on the rooftops. Frost? As I took the newspaper out of its box, I saw bumps on top. I thought they were water drops that would move as I touched them, but they were cold and solid — ice! Oh! No!

I rushed to the deck to see what had happened to the new plants. The sun made the railing sparkle, and there was a thin layer of ice on the leaves. Twelve hours later the plants are still standing tall, so I think they won the frosty battle this time.

Flowers in the Bathroom

I have arrived!!! I had flowers in the bathroom, which is the ultimate status symbol for me. From time to time I watched shows that someone here had 042415 Flowers in the bathroom on TV, the programs where people were searching for a house to buy or renovating one. The shows always seemed to end with a grand housewarming party where nothing was out of place. Beautiful flower arrangements added the final touch of grandeur. The last place you’d put flowers was in the bathroom. Well, maybe the laundry room would be the very last, but you get the idea. Anyway, last night and this morning there were lovely blooms decorating the master bath. I swept in like I owned the place and had a right to such excessive luxury.

Of course, there is a story behind it. We bought a plant stand yesterday and the hanging planters to hook on it. The whole setup looked lovely on the bedroom deck. In the evening we saw dire warnings of frost in the mountains, and I pulled those new plants in before you could say Jack Rabbit, or more to the point, Jack Frost. This morning the thermometer on the back porch registered 35 degrees as I went out to walk, so the plants probably would have survived. They were used to being outdoors in the garden center. I’ll look at tonight’s forecast before I put them outside again.

If being a plant hoverer doesn’t make me appear eccentric, I’ll tell you that the birds are talking to me. Many of the wrens and sparrows here sound similar, so I don’t know who was speaking. This one bird kept saying, “Decisions! Decisions!” He had a distinct, fake French accent with a nasal twang. I guess if you say only one thing, you need to say it decisively. He did. Further down the road was a bird that Pollocks and Johnsons would have liked. He repeated over and over, “Ski jump. Ski jump. Ski jump.”

The pileated woodpecker didn’t speak, but I heard an insistent rat-a-tat-tat in the woods, along with his distinctive call. If I hadn’t been so self-conscious, I might have spotted him. I had just walked up the steep hill on Qualla and turned into Woodmore. People who must be my neighbors kept driving by, and I didn’t want them to see me standing idly by the roadside. I do have some pride and didn’t want to look like an idiot with my head cocked to one side. I’m walking as the sun rises, so maybe in a week or so these people will still be eating breakfast when I want to commune with the woodpecker.

Doves were on the railing. I d 042415 Doves on the porch on’t know that they were billing and cooing, because I was on the other side of the front door. They were using their bills, though, pecking gently at each other as if they were kissing each other’s necks. Wikipedia states that the words billing and cooing have been used since Shakespeare’s time and comes from the courtship of doves. I had no idea I was looking at a couple out on a heavy date.

Dog and Cat Days

The sultry dog days of summer won’t come until July or August, but I’ve decided we are having dog and cat days right now. The blooms du jour are dogwood and dandelion.

I found out this evening that jeans are thicker than I thought. It rained during the day, but I didn’t think of that when I stepped onto the deck. There were still lots of clouds about with just a bit of blue sky in the west. Watching the fading light seemed like a good idea, so I sat down. It took about three seconds for me to realize the plastic cushion held rain like a sponge, and the wetness was seeping upwards. Funny thing! I got up quicker than I sat down!