Pleasure Followed by Gardening

Our favorite neighborhood foster child came back for a brief visit. Dennis would have stayed with his former foster parents Shawn and Bob, but they had a full house. He slept at our house. That meant we had a chance to visit with him when he wasn’t busy with them, other neighbors, and friends.

I don’t know Dennis’ whole story, but he overcame many obstacles in his young life. One of the worst was the disservice from social service agencies. He was put in six different homes in about eight years. Shawn and Bob took him in when he was already a teenager, and he has another year to go before he can get out of the system.

Shawn and Bob can be so proud of him. He still has the good manners they taught him and was a pleasure to be with. After meals, he cleared the table, not only his own dishes, but ours as well. Dennis also made his bed voluntarily!! He spent time chatting with us and thanked us for everything we did for him.

The most pleasure I got from gardening was knowing it was over for the day. I realized it was time to plant the seeds we bought weeks ago. I strode outside carrying the shovel, a trowel, gloves, and the seed packets. Four o’clock seeds went near the fence. I liked their description, that the plants can be temporary hedges. Nasturtiums (which my dad called nasty turtiums) were planted in the middle of the garden. They like full sun and poor soil — should be perfect. The delphiniums were planted near the porch in partial shade. By the time I finished, I could hardly stand upright. What a difference there was in the way I went out to garden and the way I returned! I don’t think I would have been able to make it back to the house without using the shovel as a walking stick. Neighbor Amy thought I was joking about becoming an instant cripple because of gardening, but if anything, it was worse than I let on. Prudence would dictate I have a caregiver in the house before venturing out to battle the garden. I’m telling you, gardening could be lethal! The poor seeds would agree. They had to wait until afternoon for their first watering.

Bob the Builder Brightens Our Lives

When the doorbell rang, John opened the door and said, “Bob the Builder! Come in.”

Bob, otherwise known as neighbor Bob, had come over to install two solar tubes. John and I fell in love with the concept after seeing homes of two classmates in Oklahoma and Arizona. Our friends used these tubes in dark hallways, kitchens, and baths. Our kitchen was shadowed by the back porch, and the interior bathroom had no natural light at all. I’m convinced Bob can do anything he sets his mind to. He was everywhere – on the roof, in the attic, and on a ladder inside. Being experienced with construction, he measured very carefully and went about the job confidently.

I took a photo of him as he put the clear cap on the roof.

051616 Bob finishing solar tube on roof.JPG

The rest of the afternoon I kept going to look at the kitchen and bathroom to see the light flooding in. Below is the interior bathroom lit only by the solar tube.

051616 Inner room lit by solar tube.JPG

While the sun was high, the flat disc in the ceiling looked like a spotlight in the kitchen. Later there was just a soft glow.

051616 Kitchen with solar tube.JPG

Logan appeared shortly after his dad started working. I asked why he wasn’t in school, and he said saucily, “I’m taking a day off.”

John had the more likely story from Bob. Logan had an earache during the night. Old man and little boy played checkers for the first time together while Bob worked. It reminded me of all the times John patiently played with our grandsons. At least today, John had the edge on Logan.

051616 John and Logan play checkers.JPG

Public Apology to Tom

I was thrilled with our gift of Amy’s birdbath and sat right down to thank her and her friends for installing it in our empty, wisteria-cursed pergola. I wrote at night, not my optimum brain time. It didn’t occur to me until the next day that I might have insulted Tom. Can you imagine the conversation that might have gone on at Amy’s house?

Amy looks at her messages and says, “My goodness! Anne called Tom a fairy!”

Tom comes over to look at the screen and reads, “I know the garden fairies who worked this magic – Amy and her dear friends Mary and Tom.”

So, Tom, I apologize for writing a statement that some might construe as slanderous. I looked up fairies in Wikipedia and found the mythical creatures are gender neutral. Given the current uproar over bathroom laws in North Carolina, what do you suppose the politically correct gender police would do with that?

Garden Fairies

Now that our garden has plants in bloom, I’m reminding myself to look out of the window whenever I’m in the kitchen. We had been out all afternoon. As I washed my hands, my eyes skimmed the view from the lilac bush, over the roses, to the wisteria. Wait! Go back an inch! What is under the pergola?

051616 Birdbath a surprise.JPG

If this had been a scene in a movie, I would have rubbed my eyes in disbelief. It was a birdbath made to look like a daisy. Perfect! Just the day before, John and I said we should take neighbor Amy’s advice to put something under the wisteria. There is no telling when we would have gotten around to it. Now the deed is done, and I love it.

051616 Birdbath reflections.JPG

I know the garden fairies who worked this magic – Amy and her dear friends Mary and Tom. Amy sold her house, and Mary and Tom have come from South Carolina to help her pack. Amy said we could have this garden fixture, despite my protest that she might want it at her new home. If I had been here, I would have insisted that they shouldn’t take packing time to do such a huge favor for us. I don’t know that I would cut off my nose to spite my face, but I can certainly see myself getting in the middle of magic and making a merry mess of it.

051616 Birdbath under wisteria.JPG

Thank you Amy, Mary, and Tom. I’m sure you know that every time I look at the birdbath, I’ll remember your magic that surprised us.

Pop the Packaging

Neighbor Logan (5) went with his dad and John to buy supplies at Lowe’s. As soon as they came back, Logan ran in with his books from school. He gets two small paperbacks every day to read at home. John was picked to be the readee and sat down with Logan on his lap. I was downloading an application, so I didn’t stand around to be amazed at the boy’s ability to read. After he read his books, Logan ran in to ask me how long you could live without food and water. I’m not sure what prompted that, but we found a simplistic answer that you could live three weeks without food, but only a week without water.

Logan’s quick eyes spotted a box filled with air bags that had protected my latest online purchase. Like bubble wrap, air bags were irresistible. As soon as he started jumping on them, I reached for the toy camera. Because there is always a lag after pressing the shutter, I didn’t think the results would be useable. The first shot caught him in mid-air, one arm and both feet blurred.

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The second showed the pleasure on his face after popping them all. Simple things can bring such unexpected delight.

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Shakedown in the Neighborhood

Neighbor Amy very kindly said my debt was paid in full. I cheated her out of a milkshake at Biltmore weeks ago and subsequently had two with her.

As I nixed John’s suggestion that time, I kept him from having a shake, too. We agreed we’d have a half-price Sonic on the way home from buying a secondhand car. Unfortunately, I ate too big a celebratory dinner and couldn’t face a shake. Days later we stopped at a fast food place in Knoxville after a concert. The voice from the order sign said the strawberry machine had been turned off. We were indignant. Who in his right mind would turn off a shake machine when we needed one? A strawberry one, at that! If my brain had been working, I would have suggested we go elsewhere. Alas, John was the loser and settled for chocolate. Please note the settling for chocolate was his sentiment, not mine. I know for a fact that chocolate is king.

Weeks later we went to another concert, this one in Asheville. We heard five Russians sing Russian Orthodox church music and folk songs. Milkshake fever was running high, and we finally had our half-price Sonics on the way home. A big plus was John’s having strawberry chunks in his.

People who read the shake saga from the beginning said I’d never live it down. It’s going to be one of those family/neighborhood tales with a life of its own. I have the feeling the next time we go out with neighbors Shawn and Bob, I’d better offer them a shake before we do anything else.

Slow Food for Mother’s Day

Almost every year John cooks on the grill for Mother’s Day, although several times we did bring home a meal from a restaurant. Saturday I took chicken breasts and apple sausages out of the freezer and prepared a grape salad, a new favorite that takes time to put together. Sunday morning I stirred together a marinade for the chicken. I removed a thick coating of yellow pollen from the porch table. The floor was a mess, too, so I swept the whole porch before we went to church. When we came home, John put charcoal in the grill and plugged in the electric starter. While he chatted with son John $, I prepared baked potatoes, a vegetable, and sauce for the chicken. I also put out the dishes and flatware, along with napkins and serving spoons.

The side dishes were ready when John found the charcoal starter was not working. We had come home at 1 and sat down to eat at 3. This was very slow food, indeed. Next year I might opt for a Big Mac or a Whopper for Mother’s Day! There will be no fuss, no mess, no guilt, no complaint, and no wait – just a big yes for fast food!

I Won!

Neighbor Amy pointed out that the ivy should be removed from the old oak tree, and I knew she was right. A year or so ago John took care of it, with one or both of our grandsons, as I remember. The day Amy commented on it, we could see one area where the thick, healthy leaves reached the second or third level of branches. I cut the stems about waist high and pulled the insidious vines both ways. You don’t need to tell me it’s not a victory, only a truce. However, if the present leaves turn brown, I shall wallow in temporary satisfaction.

051016 Ivy on oak.JPG — Two hundred year old oak tree

New-to-me Bird

The bird feeder three feet from my desk had gotten gloppy. When the seeds get low, rain blows in and mats them down. I raked the muck out, leaving the stuff scattered on the deck. Coming back with coffee mug in hand, I saw a very blue bird among the seeds. At first I thought it was a bluebird, since we see them fairly often in the bushes close to the house. The bird turned, and I could see it was a deep blue color all over, front and back. It was an indigo bunting, a bird I’d never seen close enough to identify. The bright yellow pansies near the rail quivered in the wind, looking as excited as I felt. This was a blue ribbon day!

Neighbor Shawn said she had seen a hummingbird on her porch, so I boiled sugar water and put out our two feeders. The very same day I saw a hummer at both feeders. That was rich reward for very little work.

I didn’t get photos of the indigo bunting or the hummingbirds, but I did get a pair of courting doves on the deck and a pileated woodpecker. We had doves billing and cooing on our railings last year, making me wonder if this is the same pair. They are never far from each other.

050416 Doves on the deck.JPG

I was most excited about the big woodpecker. It was one of my mother’s favorite birds. She always talked about how shy it was, and the only time I saw one with her was in a thicket way at the back of our property. She would have been thrilled to know I’ve seen one on a tree beside our road and now this one at the side of our house. The pileated woodpecker can be 16 to 19 inches long and is the largest woodpecker in the US.

050616 Pileated woodpecker.JPG

Pairing New Technology with Two Old Ladies

With John away playing with trains, I’ve been gallivanting with neighbor Amy. She’ll be moving in about five weeks, so we needed to celebrate our friendship before there are three hours separating us. Mostly, we’ve run around town doing her errands. I love tagging along when I don’t have to concentrate on making decisions or being efficient.

When we came out of Lowe’s, I reminded her we were going to pair her new phone with her car. I felt an undue responsibility for her success because I spoke highly of the Republic Wireless phone. She would not have bought it if I hadn’t said many times how pleased I was with mine. The offer was a brave thing on my part. I need precise instructions for things that are out of my league. I had paired a headset with a computer and a keyboard with a tablet, which didn’t make me an expert with a phone and a car. Noah had it easy with his prearranged pairings – no instructions, but his pairs must have looked similar.

My hand was reaching for the glove compartment as I asked Amy if she had the owner’s manual.

“It’s not there,” she said with certainty. “Maybe it’s back here somewhere.” She was rummaging under the driver’s seat and pulled out a small booklet. I began reading with one eye on the instructions and one eye looking for a telephone icon. At least Amy was familiar with her car! She punched something and told the car to call me. The car said it couldn’t complete a call to Ant Mehrling. I wasn’t offended, because I was ready to crawl under something by then. We went through all the steps several times, coming to a dead end by various and devious routes. The car should have given us a six-digit code, but kept flashing a connecting message. At long last, Amy noticed the airplane symbol on the phone, which I hadn’t thought to check.

When the car said the installation was complete, we didn’t believe it. I scrambled for my phone when Amy called Ant Mehrling again. The car may have had a grudge against me by then. It and I were not on speaking terms. Amy commanded a call to her granddaughter who was driving across the country from California to North Carolina. The young woman answered immediately. We were so thrilled that the phone worked, that we never asked where she was.

040515 Amy.jpg Amy explained to her, “We weren’t sure how this Bluetooth extraction was going. You know there will be trouble when two elderly ladies – that’s old ladies with blue hair and yellow teeth — sit in a car trying to make technology work for them.”

Look at Amy’s photo at the left, and you’ll see the blue should refer to her eyes and the yellow to her hair.

If the granddaughter snickered at Amy’s statement, our old ears didn’t catch it. I thought we’d spent maybe 20 minutes, but Amy was sure it was closer to two hours.