We had been to the lovely wedding of the daughter of John’s first cousin. The church was Katie’s home church, where the minister who performed the ceremony had been her Sunday School teacher when she was young. Her roots were very much there.
I hadn’t thought about wedding roots until our son talked about his friend’s wedding. It was far from the homes of the bride and groom, in another area of the country. He couldn’t go, but he talked to an old friend who did go. That jogged my memory that our daughter had been to a wedding outside the country on a tropical beach. I enjoyed hearing about these glamorous events, but they were out of my league.
I said to son John $, “I haven’t thought about destination weddings in quite a while. Are they still an ‘in’ thing?”
I didn’t stop to think that $ has lived in North Carolina for a number of years. He is so at home hiking and camping in the woods, that you’d never guess he grew up on Long Island. He is a transplant, one whose roots in sandy soil don’t show.
$ had an immediate answer to my question. He shrugged and said, “How would I know? The weddings I go to are usually in barns!”
Another way of saying 75 years passed is that three quarters of a century are in the past – on John’s odometer. Thank heavens John himself has not passed! Our son and I treated him to a prime rib dinner on his 76th birthday. The meat was rare, as was the dinner. When we lived in England in the 80s, John occasionally had prime rib with horseradish. The hunger for that dish resurfaced last year and again this year. I’m sure he will not yearn for it more often, if that means another year of his life has passed.
The venue for the birthday meal was the restaurant where grandson Nathaniel worked all summer. The co-owner who had hired him was checking with diners to see if everything were satisfactory. When she came to us, John said Nathaniel sent greetings. Her face brightened up, and she began to say the most wonderful things about him. She said how much she had enjoyed him, that he had raised the bar in the kitchen, and that she hoped he would come back. That, in itself, was like another birthday present for John.
We enjoyed our dinners. John $ and I chose meatloaf, a less expensive item on the menu. I had a second reason to choose it. I suspect Nathaniel had made it! He used 20 pounds of beef for meatloaf the last time he prepared it. He might also have diced the tomatoes for the tomato jelly that decorated the top of the meat. It was delicious and beautifully presented. We came home and had angel food cake with strawberries and whipped topping. This is John’s favorite birthday dessert, one that his grandmother and his mother made for him when he was growing up.
I was thankful that John was alive for his 76th birthday. The next morning, my sentiments were not exactly the same. He planned to leave for a day at the train club in Tennessee at 5:45 am. Well before he left, he played Lutheran Public Radio using the phone in his pocket. The hymns were performed by a choir of recorders with the intensity of 100 bagpipes.
After 5 hours of silence, I was glad he texted me that he arrived safely.
As we drove toward the church, I realized John and I had sung there 53 years ago with our college choir. How nice to return for the wedding of his first cousin’s daughter! We had seen Katie most recently at the funeral of her grandfather and the wedding of her brother. Now it was her turn for a very happy occasion.
We were surprised that Katie’s only nephew was the ring bearer. We thought he was only a year old. A young woman sat in the front pew armed with a child’s book and a bottle. I figured she was there to catch the baby as he toddled by. No, it was better than that. Little John Junior was too young to walk. His mother was a bridesmaid, and she carried him down the aisle and handed him to her sister in the pew. I got his picture after the ceremony when his dad was holding him.
After Katie and Matt exchanged vows, the minister asked the congregation to stand if they would promise to support and encourage the couple in every way possible. He told the newly weds to turn around and savor the moment. They were to look carefully at all the people who were there to uphold their marriage. I had never seen that done before, and I thought it was a very meaningful part of the ceremony.
The minister said several amusing things about Katie and Matt. He knew them well and was advising them to love each other as Christ loved them. The hilarious words came during the prayer. He said, “When they think they have everything figured out, Lord, send them children.” I don’t think anyone laughed aloud, but a hint of sound rippled through the church.
I don’t cry at funerals, but weddings always get me. Of all Katie’s relatives, I was closest to her grandmother, John’s Aunt Kay. This time tears came in my eyes as I thought how very proud Aunt Kay would have been. Katie was named for her, and she would have admired her granddaughter for her beauty, accomplishments, and most of all, her loving heart.
The reception was in the stable building of a nearby plantation. It was the most humane reception I’ve ever been to. The eardrum-bursting band was inside the building, and the dining tables were in a large tent. We could hear conversation all around our table! We chatted with the bride’s cousins while Barbara and Thom danced.
Barbara, John, and Thom at the receptionBride and groom’s first danceBride and her dad
John, his sister Barbara, and Thom celebrated John’s birthday by going to the Pisgah Inn for lunch. We had an hour’s wait for a window table, so we went on the deck for the view. I’m sure there are other wonderful places that have a good view, but this was the best one we knew.
Thom, Barbara, John at Pisgah Inn
It was worth the wait. Since we were there late, the crowd soon thinned, and we had a quiet meal.
None of us were hungry after that good meal, so we decided to share one piece of cake with ice cream among the four of us. Didn’t they do a lovely job?
We had a mini-family reunion to look forward to after the grandsons went back to school. John’s sisters and husbands were coming here, and we were going together to a family wedding in Tennessee. Illness and the threat of a hurricane have caused one couple to cancel. John pointed out that if South Carolina evacuates the coast, they might get here and not be able to get home. Though disappointed, we are enjoying being with the New York relatives. Barbara and Thom walked to the creek with us this morning, so I took the obligatory photo. John is not in the picture, because he turned back to help a neighbor in distress. She had an appointment in half an hour and could not find her car keys. To speed things up, John asked neighbor Marla to drive him home to get our car, but by then the keys had been found. That’s what I love about our neighbors. They are willing to request help, as well as give it.
You might wonder what retirees do when they get together. We have rocking chairs on the front porch and seats on the back porch, with mountain views in all directions. We are not rocking our lives away. After breakfast we went in separate rooms to work! Thom needed to listen to lectures for a course he is taking, and Barbara was working on a presentation. John has been writing a series about the hymn-of-the-month for church. I’m the only one playing, but I do learn lots of interesting things while reading blogs. That’s a good excuse in my book, but it’s also one of the many reasons I enjoy being alive.
Our pastor has a wonderful sense of humor that shows itself in the pulpit when things get out of control. Normally he reads the text for the sermon, opens with prayer, and launches into the message. He often grabs the attention of the pewsters, as he did yesterday, with a direct question.
Pastor asked, “How many of you like Brussels sprouts? Raise your hand. That many? Well, let’s just say if you invite me over to your house, you don’t need to serve Brussels sprouts. I can get along just fine without them.”
There were titters throughout the congregation. Continuing in a luring tone, he asked, “How many of you would like a fresh, warm, glazed doughnut?”
We knew he was warming to his theme, because his love of doughnuts is self-proclaimed. His eyes were bugging out as he exclaimed, “More of you like Brussels sprouts than doughnuts!!!! I can see this sermon is not going the way I wanted it to.”
There was loud laughter, and he had everyone’s rapt attention.
[For those who might want to know, he preached about the faith of the four men who brought the paralytic man to Jesus. Our faith, in a supporting role, can help miracles occur.]
The car began to roll out of the driveway when grandson Nathaniel jumped out and said he forgot to do something. He must have answered my question with at least one word, because I immediately knew he was heading for the mirror in the front hall. He strode; I ran. He reached up to take it off the wall while I focused on him. You see, when I was looking for a place to hang it when we moved in, I slung it on a sturdy hook that held a wall clock for the previous owners. We installed a lower hook. Moving the mirror up is the first rite Nathaniel performs when he arrives. As you can see, it is perfect for him to glance at his face. It works for brother David, as well.
The last rite of a visit is the formal lowering of the mirror. As he straightened it, he said, “That’s right now. I can see my belt buckle.”
We both rushed back out to the car so that I could wave as they set off for the long drive to New York. I remembered there was one other tale I wanted to tell. It involved a shopping trip to East Tennessee, where we went to the Smoky Mountain Knife Works. They proclaim themselves to be the the world’s largest knife store. The first sign I saw inside the store was repeated throughout. It stated that persons under 18 years of age were not allowed to handle knives or swords.
That sign didn’t make me laugh until we got back to our house. I understood the reason for the warning, but how ludicrous in our case! Nathaniel (17) just spent the summer cutting things in a steak house kitchen! On the days they were making tomato jam, how many tomatoes had he cut up? The answer – 400 tomatoes. He knew exactly how many were in a crate and how many crates he had gone through. Below is a photo of a sandwich he made for our meal. It involved cutting chicken, slicing cheese, cooking bacon, and grilling the chicken. He is more careful with knives than I am.
I wonder what the knife store people would say if they knew he had played with fire as well.
After grandson David went back to college, we had another couple of weeks with his brother, Nathaniel. I took the photo below when we went shopping in Tennessee. I sat in the second row of seats, and Nathaniel was in the third row. He draped his long frame over one seat, with his feet touching the front seat. He listened to music, read something on his phone, and had the new skillet in his lap.
He seasoned the skillet that evening by applying shortening and baking it in the oven. The last thing he cooked for us was a batch of cathead biscuits, so called because they were as big as a cat’s head. He said they were a Southern tradition, but I had never heard the term. We skirted the issue by calling them delicious.
Neighbor Logan spent an afternoon with us shortly before school started. He found a 100-piece jigsaw puzzle in the closet.
Although it was a little frustrating for him, he worked it entirely by himself. He was happy to pose for a victory photo.
This last Monday of August was the day David started classes, Nathaniel arrived home, and Logan had his first day of school.
A friend took our son’s picture at Rocky Top in Tennessee on a warm afternoon. That makes a fitting summery/summary photo.
I’m here to tell you that tats are out, and nose décor will be the newest fad. Tattoos had been rising in popularity, judging by their visibility on the street. Once people see the possibilities of decorating their noses, this fashion will be nothing to sneeze at. Those looking for “green” possibilities will be thrilled. They can use organic elements found in their own gardens. Beat the rush! Get your style sheet today! Send in the Sinus Up Form immediately! Nathaniel is modeling the Wistful Wisteria Pod, a very popular look for August.
A few days ago grandson N picked all the pods under the pergola. Of course, being as tall as he is, he didn’t need a ladder.
He began to empty his pockets onto the table. I thought it was a magic trick, as they just kept coming and coming.
He asked us to guess how many there were.
I don’t remember who won, but the total was 75. We weighed the largest pod, showing 3 ounces. I didn’t think to weigh the whole crop.
If anyone wants some, please come help yourself. I’m wondering how we will dispose of them. If we take them to the dump, 75 pods might explode and cover the whole county next spring.
We have e-mail, and e-books, so why not e-clips? That’s the way John jokingly spoke of the impressive celestial event. Brother Bob and Beth came over, and we drove about 20 miles to the area of total eclipse. Our day was fantastic.
Bob ordered the special glasses for viewing the sun, and John explored maps to find a good place to wait. No one said anything, but we were all concerned when we got on the highway. The traffic was stop and go, because so many people were streaming toward the area of total eclipse. We began to breathe again when the cars moved. We turned off before getting to Sylva, not wanting to get involved in that town’s big celebration. There were many places we could have waited along that road, but we all voted for the parking lot of a Baptist church. It was bordered by a gurgling mountain stream with railroad tracks nearby. Waiting was easy with fun people around.
We ate sandwiches we’d made for ourselves at home, and Beth handed round the most appropriate snack – Moon Pies. We became more informal as time passed. Between times when we gazed at the sun, we sat in the van which was in the shade.
Two were on the ground when the light began to fade. We noticed the quality of the light was unusual, not quite like a cloudy day or normal dusk. Bob was standing in the sunlight and noted that it wasn’t hot. The temperature dropped. As the moon totally covered the sun, John saw one star, and Bob pointed to a planet. We took our protective glasses off for a minute and saw the moon totally covering the sun. News media will cover that, and you’ll know what we saw.
We had a lovely setting for eclipse-watching.
We didn’t stay long after the moon moved on, figuring we’d see the end at home. One last peek in the driveway, and we were ready to feast on Nathaniel’s eclipse cake. I realize now it was best viewed from above. The chocolate frosting represented the shadow, and the yellow was the corona. The only shot of the top was Nathaniel’s weighing the cake. It was eight pounds, but we’ll have to subtract the weight of the cake stand once it is empty.
His foot is that long; the sock is not floppy.
The celebrants are pictured with the cake before we sat down to demolish a quarter of it.
A bat has not nested in John’s hair. That’s the furniture behind him.
Beth and Bob were caught in a massive traffic jam on the way home. They think it was caused by a collision of several tractor trailers.
My name is Suki, my human is a writer, and this is about my world. The world according to Suki The Cat. My humans smell funny, look weird, and I can't understand a thing they say, but they feed me, so hey, what are you gonna do?
