Time Warp

I had hours of anguish after discovering I had lost photos from July through December. Heaven knows my pictures would never be classed as good photography, but they were precious to me. It all began in the afternoon when my brain was already in steep decline. I’ve chanted it so often that it’s almost a mantra – “I wake up instantly, and it’s downhill the rest of the day.”

John’s request was reasonable enough. I hadn’t copied photos to his computer, and he was missing two years. He remembered seeing a picture he wanted to share, and he didn’t have it. I had put water on to boil for pasta, the first step in assembling baked ziti for dinner. Thinking it would take only a few seconds, I went to my computer and copied the files to Dropbox. It was merely a matter of moving them onto his machine. When I checked to make sure everything was there, one folder had only two pictures. I must have hit something wrong. I went through the process again, saw there were many photos in place, and started back to the kitchen. John reclaimed his chair, looked for the picture, and came to tell me it wasn’t there. He explained, “It was taken in July.”

Can you see that I had set myself up for a colossal failure? By insisting on finishing the job when I was tired and had other things on my mind, I was stubbornly speeding the wrong way. I looked at the original folder and found the last date was the end of June. I was annoyed at that point, but I assumed all I had to do was copy another set from a flash drive. Looking at my main backup, the one I keep with me all the time, I saw with horror that only six month’s worth of photos were there. Hoping I hadn’t overwritten the folder on a secondary backup, I checked it. Golly Pete! What had I done? How could I have messed up that one, too? Then it occurred to me that the fault was on the hard drive. I had somehow erased half a year and carefully overwritten all my backups. Aaaauuuuggghhhh! I stopped and went back to the boiling water on the stove.

Speaking sternly to myself, I said, “Don’t think about it until after dinner.”

Not obeying, I thought, “What all is missing? Will anyone have copies they can share with me?”

“Stop it! You are in no state to think clearly.”

“I know I’m too tired to think. Still, various guests were with us for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I know I sent them photos.

“Good grief! Will you stop it? Nobody keeps email photos.”

“Wait! There is one last hope. Go get the external backup.”

By this time, the ziti was in the oven. I plugged in the external drive and couldn’t find the logs I wanted. There were so few files with recent dates. After bumbling around a bit, I told myself to put it all away and wait till the next day. No one should attempt to work in such a hopeless state. Again, not listening to myself, I looked at my master file. Understanding dawned slowly. I got up and put out the plates for dinner. As we sat down together on the porch, I told John and our grandsons what had happened.

I explained, “I had a really rough day, or at least one terrible hour. I was sure I had lost half my photos for a full year. You know what? I was dealing with 2015 and 2016, and you know I’m not good with numbers. I forgot 2016 was the present year. I was searching and trying to restore pictures I haven’t taken yet – photos from the future!!!!

The boys controlled their faces until I rolled my eyes and laughed at myself. A snicker escaped from David. He said, “You’re gonna write about it tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“It’s almost funny to me now,” I replied. “It will be after I sleep on it.”

Playing in the Mountains

Having people who are ready to play anytime, anywhere, keeps life from being dull. While John was gone, I asked Nathaniel to check the waterfall pool because we had had so much rain. He found it on the brink of overflowing. Grabbing the first vessel he could put his hands on, he was going to bail it out. The watering can wouldn’t work, but he removed water with a plastic container. Although that could have been classed as work, he made it fun.

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The boys and I enjoyed working a jigsaw puzzle I found at a thrift shop while browsing with former neighbor Amy. We plan to attack the puzzle she gave us, a 1,000-piece one of a steam engine. That’s one I wouldn’t tackle alone. How would you sit or stand to work a jigsaw puzzle? David had a novel perch. How he could sit like that AND find pieces was beyond me! In case you can’t see it well, his feet were on top of the stool.

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While unpacking some of his things, David put a stuffed creature on his head, which amused Nathaniel.

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Almost every day the fellows play Rail Baron, a board game that can last longer than Monopoly. They buy railroads and roll their way around the country for an hour or so. From the next room I could hear them declaring where they were headed. I thought it was a fun way to enhance the boys’ knowledge of geography.

072016 D JC N playing Rail Baron.JPG

David got out a toy his godparents, Tonja and Anders, gave him years ago. It had lost none of its charm. He knew I enjoyed his creations, so he set up a single row for me to play with. During the day he and Nathaniel changed it several times, and it even came to the dinner table. John helped with a revision, and they made a three-sided structure that I didn’t think would work. It did.

From his porch, Logan may have seen me reading the newspaper on our porch. He approached quietly, holding a book in his arms. I wasn’t sure what he wanted, since I can’t always translate his quiet words, so I asked if he wanted to read to Grandpa John. I fetched him, and the two of them read the book from cover to cover.

072116 Logan reads to Grandpa John.JPG

Logan’s mom gave permission for him to have breakfast with us, so we moved into the house. His eyes lit up when he saw David’s plastic structure on the table. He announced he had one, and so does his church. Soon there were rolling marbles everywhere! Amazingly, after he left, I found only one marble on the floor. He’s a neat kid in more ways than one.

072116 Logan plays with D's marbles.JPG

Nathaniel almost burned his tongue on hot coffee, which amused Logan. I asked for a repeat so you could see how much Logan enjoyed that.

Walking Diary, Four Days

The following was written to get John caught up on the days he missed walking while in NY:

7/14/16 I was walking perhaps a quarter of an hour earlier as you were leaving with Bob A. to go to NY. Two or three cars passed me, and all the drivers waved. Lately the red car has been the first one out of our neighborhood, but I was ahead of him. I love the way he greets us, holding his hand near his window. I think of it as a blessing. He didn’t go by me until I was out on Qualla, and I was far enough down the steep hill that I didn’t know if he came out of our street. I decided not to wave, and just then he went by. He had a verbal good morning as well as the blessing wave. I quickly called out and waved big so he could see me in his mirror if he looked.

Things were different across from the fire station. Four of the ten snow plow trucks were missing out of the lineup. The others seemed to be in their regular places. I wondered what on earth they were doing on a densely foggy morning.

7/15/16 The Park branches were inaudible on the way out and barely sounding on the opposite side. [We have two streams that go under the road and join together before they get to Shawn and Bob’s place. For some reason, they are called “branch” instead of stream or creek.]

Queen Anne’s lace is putting on an impressive display beside the cornfield on Qualla Road. Also, in that area, the junky red car has not moved. You noticed the tires were flat, and they were flat enough that I noticed them today.

7/16/16 Just after the big bend in the road, I heard a screech owl in the distance. It must have been in the woods behind the rental cabins.

There were not many hungry breakfast eaters at the cafe. I counted five cars, in contrast to ten the day before. Of course, on a Saturday there was far less traffic on the road, as well.

Fog/mist was quite heavy at our house, so I was surprised to find the highway on the floor of the valley fog-free. The valley was filled with mist overhead, but I could see the road clearly from one bend to the other. I didn’t have to go through the thud routine. [John walks much faster than I do, so if he starts across the highway with an on-coming car in view, I know I have to put on speed. Fog makes the crossing dangerous, because many people here do not have their headlights on. Once I scooted across and paused on the other side. I explained to John that a when speeding car made me feel uncomfortable, I would note the point of impact if I had not gotten off the road. At that time, I’d say “thud” to myself. Now I say it out loud, and he knows the crossing was a bit too tight for me.]

7/17/16 [Readers get a day off, because we don’t walk on Sundays.]

7/18/16 Three wild turkeys crossed the road in front of me just before Connie and Dave’s property. They must have been Mama, Papa, and Susie. Straggling behind was Sammy, running for his life.

Can’t you imagine what was being said? Mama squawks, “Hurry, Sammy! Come ON!!!! RUN!!!!”

There is one in every crowd.

“Don’t worry. I’m coming,” Sammy says slowly as he stops to look at a snail.

“SAMMY!!!!” bellows Papa.

“AWWWKKKK!” squeals Sammy as he runs helter-skelter across the road..

Mama scolds, “Naughty boy! She was reaching in her pocket to shoot you! It would serve you right to have your photo plastered all over Facebook! Next time you run when I call you!”

Breakfast!!!!

With John away on a play date in New York (50^th anniversary of the Long Island Live Steamers), I reminded myself to check the weather before going out to walk. That’s something that John normally does in our routine. The forecast mentioned a thunderstorm at 10 – hours to spare, or so I thought. I walked at my usual pace and chatted with neighbor Marla at the gatehouse. Well, there isn’t a real gatehouse, but she lives in the first house to our area, and they have a porch gate for dog Albert. I was in no hurry, knowing the grandsons were still sound asleep. I watered the stone planter by our porch, waved to Bob on his porch across the street, switched on the angel water fountain, and read the newspaper. I hadn’t finished the first section when I heard a suspicious sound – rain! The pounding drops drowned out the sound of the water fountain completely. If I had been caught in that downpour, I would have come home looking like a drowned rat.

I finished reading the paper, with frequent glances at the run-off stream by the street. It’s the only natural stream we can lay claim to, and it materializes only in a cloudburst. I opened the front door, expecting to hear no one and planning to start a pot of coffee. Hmmm. I smelled warm bread. How could that be?

Grandson Nathaniel talks of cooking, that being one of his interests. He is often at home alone before and after school, when his dad is working. He thinks nothing of preparing a meal for himself or experimenting with an interesting recipe. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before, but the previous night I asked if he would be interested in cooking breakfast. I suggested biscuits, knowing he had tried them recently. He thought of egg-in-the-eye, but we didn’t have enough bread. I countered with blueberry muffins. We left the discussion at that point and wandered off to bed.

After taking ten steps through the hall, I saw a bowl with biscuits on the counter, and Nathaniel was stirring eggs and flipping sausage patties at the stove. Wow! He found all the ingredients and all the utensils by himself! I am still amazed.

071616 Nathaniel cooking — Nathaniel cooking sausage and eggs.

I put plates, knives, forks, jams, and butter on the counter as David came in. Like an experienced cook, Nathaniel knew his audience. He knew David was already up and in the shower and that I was more than likely on the porch. The sausage was for me, and he cooked bacon for David, spineless bacon, I might add. David likes his bacon limp, and Nathaniel carefully under cooked it. We all took things to the porch and began eating while the food was still warm. What a treat! Everything was perfect. In addition, rain began to fall again, which is something we all liked.

071616 Breakfast on the porch — Breakfast on the porch

As we finished eating, Nathaniel told me he was planning to wash dishes. I said I’d be glad to do them, since he had done the cooking.

“No,” he said, “you’ve been doing all the cooking and cleaning up, and I’m going to do it.”

He did. Isn’t he marvelous? I would consider renting him out for the rest of the summer, but I couldn’t bear to be without him.

071616 Nathaniel washes dishes — My hero! Washing dishes!

Marshmallow Guns

We were having a wonderful time catching up with news of my brother Bob and wife Beth as soon as we arrived at their home. Our niece Julie came over, and that was extra special, because we seldom see her.

Sometime during dinner Nathaniel talked about a giant marshmallow in a movie, which rang a bell with Beth and Bob. They went downstairs and brought up three guns made of PVC pipe. They remembered buying the black one and using it as a pattern to make two white ones. The guns became the entertainment of the evening, keeping us all in stitches. Beth found miniature marshmallows and didn’t flinch as the boys practiced shooting.

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Knowing Bob is an accomplished brass player, I asked if he could make music, beautiful or otherwise, with a marshmallow gun. By then it had morphed into something resembling a trombone. He could play two good notes on it!

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In playing with the guns, the fellows found the white ones Bob had made were not glued together. There is no telling how many configurations they came up with, most of which could still fire sweet ammo.

Nathaniel was fairly sure one miniature bullet landed on the window sill two stories up. The next day they brought in the big ladder and retrieved it. Bob dusted the sill while he was up there.

Eating and shooting were not the only pastimes. Going to Costco was another fun outing. We had a membership in NY, but there isn’t one close to us anymore. We stocked up on nuts, cheeses, candy, and croissants. Nathaniel spotted a stuffed animal big enough for him, and both boys posed with it. We’re glad he didn’t want it, because the bear would not have fit in the car with all of us.

Bob talked about grilled Romaine lettuce and cooked some for us. He cut it in half and sprinkled it with balsamic vinaigrette and steak seasoning. It was surprisingly good, though a bit peppery for us.

We hadn’t been home for long when Nathaniel took a marshmallow gun across the street to show it to Logan. Old boy entertained young boy for an hour or more outside. I came back in after getting a few photos. As I walked past the door, I saw Nathaniel aim at a bird. Of course, the bird was in no danger, but I wondered what the scene would have been like if Nathaniel were sitting in a city park filled with hungry pigeons. He could have been the endangered species there.

Do We Need a Ladder?

I had a day off when John and our grandsons went to Tennessee for a train club meeting. What does a retired person do with a day off? Nothing much, but I loved drifting idly through the day. I walked to the creek, read the newspaper, worked the crossword puzzle, did the monthly backup of the computer, busted some dust from the kitchen, read email, rearranged my desk, played the piano, and mixed up some cookie dough.

Because I was eating alone on the porch, I noticed movement in the new pond John installed. He and grandson Nathaniel are still in the process of building a waterfall for me, since we had to leave our big one behind in New York. I immediately thought of the first death the other day. John said he fished a dead animal out of the water. I hurried outside to see what might need a rescue. It was a frog, frog being a general term, since I’ve forgotten all I ever knew about amphibians. The little critter was swimming frantically at the edge, trying to get out. I scooped him up with the shovel lying there and dumped him on the ground. He seemed stunned to be on land again. A bit later he disappeared, hopefully to live happily ever after unless a spoiled princess kisses him. For the record, I wasn’t tempted.

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My question is, do we need a ladder? We didn’t have a problem with animals getting in the raised pool at our former home. This one, set in the ground, is evidently tempting. If you have a solution for our dilemma, please let me know.

Young Men in the Mountains

Relaxing on the porch was something we did regularly, mostly when watching for streaks of lightning. One day David stretched out casually on the rail, and the toy camera included the somnolent bear to complete the silhouette.

070616 Bear and David on the rail

On David’s day off, we went for a drive on the parkway, stopping at an overlook where you could see the beginning of one of the cascades. David showed Nathaniel the path that led to it, and they were off. A few minutes later they shouted and waved when they reached the stream. David, wearing black, was almost invisible. Nathaniel stood next to him in a shaft of sunlight.

070616 D N at cascade stream — David crouched at the brink of the falls while Nathaniel stood beside him.

Dennis was fishing with the church youth group when a storm came up suddenly. He was in a kayak when a bolt of lightning hit the water — most impressive! At lunch time we had a picnic on the porch to enjoy the view of an upcoming storm while David was at work.

070616 Picnic on the porch — Dennis, Nathaniel, and John

We had one last photo to include Dennis. He was here 12 days, and we all enjoyed him.

070816 N Dennis D — Nathaniel, Dennis, and David

John drove him home to Brevard before going back to Asheville to have Snot’s handle replaced. Several days ago David reached to open the driver’s door, and the handle came off in his hand. I’m sure that will make son John $ feel better. About three years ago $ had the same thing happen when he tried to open the rear passenger door on the same side. I don’t know what it is about Sonatas that make them unable to handle people well.

Neighborhood Celebration

With a flurry of email and text messages, our group organized an impromptu party for the Fourth of July. People came from five of the six homes on this street. Not bad for six hours’ notice! Everyone brought something for the dinner, so we had quite a spread. The people who bought Amy’s house were here, meeting most of the others for the first time. It was so much fun to hear people sharing things about themselves.

Shawn and Bob brought a watermelon, and I was glad she asked him to cut it. He did a beautiful job, filling one bowl with picture-perfect slices and another with chunks that were easy to eat.

As Bob finished, I said, “Wow! You are house trained!” He rinsed all the utensils he used and then wiped down the counter. In all my born days, I can’t remember seeing a man clean the counter where he had worked.

Five in the crowd don’t know that I write in a public place, so because I don’t have their permission to share, I’ll use just initials. The most effervescent was F. She could turn the simplest story into an entertaining tale, embellishing it with animated gestures. Her husband, S, could carry on a good conversation face to face, but he yielded the stage to her. No one minded.

The new neighbors grew up in Minnesota and moved to the next town, Maggie Valley, nine years ago. J is a runner, and he asked if there were a circular route he could take that would be about seven miles long. We thought we were good to walk regularly, but he is in a class by himself. Someone said he runs up Qualla, the steep hill that I love to complain about.

Many conversations circled around to Shawn and Bob, the first ones to build on the street. He built their house, as well as the one next to it. They knew the histories of all the houses and the people in them.

I wish I could remember all the things we laughed about, but only one stuck in my mind. Joyce said to Bob, “I have a little bit of money to spend on the house, so would you look at my garage again?”

Bob said, “Wait until you have a LOT of money and then ask me.” Of course, he went on to say that he would be glad to see what she needed.

I felt the group was convivial, all nine of us joining in the conversation. Meanwhile, the young men and Logan ate on the porch where they could be as loud as they wanted. During the heat of the late afternoon, Dennis opened the water slide and set it up. Logan was delighted with it. The slide was a bit short and flimsy for the big boys, but it seemed just right for a six-year-old.

Before dark, Bob took the young set to Lake Junaluska to see the fireworks. They thought the show was good, but not long enough. Meanwhile, Joyce and Shawn sat on the porch with us after everyone else left. I love it when a party ends by degrees, not abruptly.

Fourth of July Minus One

We were dressed in holiday garb to go to church on July 3, which is something we always did in New York on the July 4^th weekend. The church down here was having a picnic after the service, and a number of people were wearing patriotic colors.

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We did not go to the church picnic, but what we did was unusual for us. We went shopping at Toys R Us and a hobby shop, looking for a replacement for the glider that disappeared into tall evergreens the other day. Certain ones checked out model trains first. Isn’t that what everyone does?

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We were in a silly mood.

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We spent more time looking at water toys than anything else and came home with a slide that the boys are eager to test. Gliders were not to be found anywhere. Don’t tell me our nation has become so high-tech that gliders are no longer stocked in stores!

Pistols at Dusk

Though not sizzling, the afternoon was hot and humid. Dennis checked to see if Logan, his foster brother, could come out to play with water guns. I’ll bet the young boy was very disappointed that he was on his way to a baby shower. The young men played, anyway, and came in drenched. While we were eating a late supper, Logan rang the doorbell. He was holding his new water pistol and sat on a step stool, waiting patiently for us to finish.

070216 Logan waits for water fight — Dennis and Logan

John asked him about the gun.

“I got it for my birthday,” he replied.

“Do you know who gave it to you?”

“Yes,” he said. “David and Nate.”

John and I were impressed that he remembered. He opened his gifts in a tearing hurry, and we would not have expected him to know or care whose names were on them.

We had bought a set of four pistols to have at our house, so all the boys armed themselves and went out with Logan. I followed the sound of shrieks to the deck where I had a good view of the action. Logan strategized with Dennis, pulling him down to his level. The foster brothers ran down the slope to challenge the half-brothers. Actually, I don’t think they had teams. It was probably each man for himself. They were merciless, shooting each other at point blank range.

070216 One down

At my request, Nathaniel used his phone to see when squirt guns were first used. It was in the 1860s!! The first ones were made of iron, plated with nickle, and held enough to shoot about 10 times. He then filled a gun and went outside to see how long ours would go. He said 147 times! We’ve come a long way.

I think I had a red water pistol when I was little. Does anyone else remember having one?