Our Visit in the Village

Early in the morning we left David sleeping in the motel and walked by the water in Stony Brook. This was where I exercised for more than 20 years.

Walking friend Tom was waiting for us. Because of the fierce wind, he hopped in our car for the show and tell session. He had a vase he’d bought at auction, along with an old book that included a picture of it. I won’t include the details now, but the book discussed the artist in depth. Tom handed us a small gadget, and we correctly guessed it was a nutcracker. He then pointed out the design that could be traced back to Italy. Lastly, he showed us two spoons that were made of melted coins. They had a high silver content, and now the spoons are getting more rare because people are melting them for the valuable silver. I remembere 122115 Tom's spoons from melted coins.JPG d my brother and I had three spoons each that were purported to be the same type. I was eager to pull out mine to see if they were similar. They will differ in one respect – Tom’s were beautifully polished. As he was leaving, Tom presented the spoons to us as a Christmas present!

We chatted with Dave whom we’ve known for years. He asked especially about our son $ who is a kindred spirit. Both love to hike and camp out.

Our grandsons had been to a model train display in the village, and Tom also recommended it. I have a lighter appreciation for trains than John and David, but it was fun to watch the trains puff around the track.

121915 David John train show

Technical Difficulties

Before I had anything to write about, the keyboard went haywire. The first letter I typed began to fill the screen. Pressing backspace reversed the process, so there was no control whatsoever. Frustration! David loaned me his laptop in the car so that I could get started writing on the way home.

There was heavy rain the first half of the trip to New York. It was scary to look out the front window. John is far-sighted, and I’m near-sighted. He drove with confidence, leading me to assume he could see further through the rain and splash than I could. Evidently, that was true, because we arrived safely.

Grandson David was packed and ready to go when we got to New Jersey. We had a pleasant lunch with daughter Kate in a deli close to her office. There were no quotes for the day, but we laughed lot.

121815 Kate David in deli.JPG — Kate and her son David

Knowing I couldn’t write, I tried to take photographs for reminders of things we had done. We spent our first evening with friends Karen and Al. After eating at a lovely Italian restaurant within walking distance of their home, we pigged out on the flourless chocolate cake Karen had made. Man! We were in chocoholic heaven! We relish every moment we spend with them.

121815 John Karen Al.JPG — John, Karen, and Al with decadent chocolate cake

I was dying to know how Al was going to use the Spanish moss we brought him. Months and months ago, when he knew we were moving to NC, he requested this moss. It doesn’t grow in our part of the state, but John’s sister Chris had it right in her SC yard. She kindly brought a stepladder and assisted John in cutting some. Weeks later it was in Al’s living room. He pointed to a dark part of the room where I squinted to see a little bit of moss draped on an evergreen tree. He planned to add this to the tree. I wish I’d taken a picture of it and asked for an update.

First Note from Logan

When John came back from running errands, he opened the mailbox to retrieve the day’s mail. Logan came running over and said, “That’s from me! That’s from me!”

John was trying to read the card on top when Logan told him to come to his house. Old man and little boy walked across the street, and John told Bob, “Logan invited me to come over, so I’m here.”

Bob responded graciously, “You are always welcome.”

When John came home, we put our heads together to read Logan’s note. We think he was inviting us over. Our take on it was, “Nana, can you come to my house”

121415 Logan's first note to us.JPG

I loved the locomotive, put there because Logan knows John loves trains.

What do you think? Isn’t this impressive from a 5-year-old who has only been in kindergarten for a little over three months?

Let’s Not Leave a Mess

Our favorite five-year-old knocked on the door, wanting to visit us. He made a bee line for the candy that John had deftly removed, and he found only peanuts. That was better than nothing. After I listed milk, fruit flavored water, or juice to drink, he chose juice and picked out the Christmas cup that has blinking lights when holding liquid. Never still for long, he requested the larger radio controlled car that had been recharged since his last visit. I went to the back closet and pulled down a truck that I saw there the day before.

“Did you buy this for me?” he wanted to know.

I replied, “No, it was in the closet. It must have belonged to David or Nathaniel.”

Logan didn’t find it terribly appealing until I flipped a switch that made lights go on. It was much more interesting when he found another switch that activated the helicopter blades. He didn’t stay with anything long.

John mentioned the neighbor’s horses. Instead of going to the sliding door to look out, Logan leaped toward the counter. If I’d only been a few inches further away, the photo would have shown his feet dangling there.

121115 Logan looks for horses.JPG

I’m finding my role an easy one, that of being Mrs. Wilson in our live version of Dennis the Menace. I was in the kitchen making a chicken pie for dinner as the old fellow and little one were playing at the other end of the room.

“Let’s not leave a mess.” Want to guess who said that? Logan! As soon as he said it, he shut down the truck and carefully returned it to the box. That would never have happened in the cartoon strip!

White Potatoes for Dessert

You can be sure I wasn’t PLANNING to have baked potatoes for dessert. A week prior to my fiasco, John and I were in the supermarket with the house brand, no-fat Greek yogurt on the list. We usually substitute this yogurt for sour cream. John picked up plain vanilla yogurt instead – a quart of the stuff. We noticed it as we were putting things in the refrigerator, and John said it was no problem, that he’d eat it as a snack.

Fast forward a week. Because John made the first mistake, I insisted on picking up the no-fat Greek yogurt myself. You can imagine I did it with a disdainful flourish. Later that day, I was rushing things to the table and accidentally picked up the vanilla yogurt on the refrigerator door. Realizing my mistake, I returned it and looked on the shelf where there was one carton of vanilla yogurt and one of Greek yogurt. Confidently I picked up the Greek yogurt. John added only butter to his baked potato, but I ground sea salt over mine plus black pepper – PLENTY of black pepper! You’d think it had been riding in an open car behind a steam engine. I was surprised the yogurt had been opened, but I put a generous spoonful on the potato and spread it around with my fork. I wish the toy camera had been ready. There is no telling what expressions crossed my face. I whipped that silly container toward me and read, “Vanilla Greek Yogurt.”

Whirlwind

Neighbor Shawn told us 5-year-old Logan asked to come over to our house every day. We said it was fine, and a few days later the doorbell rang. Enter one cute little whirlwind. As I talked to him, John slipped in the kitchen to remove the M&M’s. We normally keep nuts and candies on the counter, but Logan is not allowed sweets right now. Within ten seconds he was on tiptoe, trying to see what was in the dish. I poured out some cashews for him. If he were disappointed, he didn’t show it.

John commented on the horses running down the pasture, lifting Logan to look out the window. He streaked toward the back door, asking to go out. While I was outside with Logan, John finished putting boxes in the attic and pushed the ladder back up. We laughed later at all that might have happened if the boy had spied that ladder. Meanwhile, Logan and I talked to the horses. Without thinking, I turned to pick him up. It has probably been 15 years since I picked up a child. Logan isn’t heavy, but for a moment I didn’t think he’d make it up on my hip. How embarrassing to get old without noticing!

Back in the house, I wondered if Shawn knew Logan was with us. I texted her that we were enjoying him. The boy requested Curious George, which he had seen on our TV set once before. We knew we didn’t have a DVD of it, but we did find a channel with children’s programming. I took a quick photo of this man-in-the-making. Logan was wielding the remote like a pro. Are male children born knowing how to use a remote?

120915 Logan with remote.JPG

We don’t know if Logan decided to leave because he was tired or because he finished all the nuts. In any case, he announced he was leaving. I watched until I saw his front door open and close, knowing he was safely home. When I sat down to write about our whirlwind visit, it occurred to me that we might be living the cartoon strip Dennis the Menace. We are an old couple being visited by a young neighbor. I resemble George’s wife, and Logan would be Dennis without the irritating qualities. John doesn’t quite fit as George, because he loves talking and playing with children. Give us a few years. We might become crotchety in time.

Can You Break a Toe on an Exercise Bicycle?

If anyone could break a toe using an exercise bicycle, it’s yours truly. After all, I’m the one who fell off Lise’s stationery bike. No bones were broken, but I had massive bruises that decency forbade me to show off proudly.

The present tale began on Thanksgiving Day when my brother brought his exercise bicycle for me to use. I was thrilled to have it. We put it on the screened porch where I could use it on days that were not fit for walking outside. Recently I used it when Lise went out there to smoke. I thought I could chat with her, but the fan part was a little too noisy. There was a pro and a con. I could improve my health while she damaged hers – not exactly fair.

An aside: Lise told me what happened when she smoked at my dad’s house. He had quit smoking decades before, but he loved the smell of cigarette smoke. He actively encouraged her bad habit by saying, “Come on out and smoke. I’m not going to begin again, but I want to use your second-hand smoke.”

My over eagerness backfired. I had walked to the creek, but I decided I’d rev up my brain between bouts of backups on the computer. I’m rather paranoid about losing files and photos, so once a month everything is copied to flash drives and an external drive. It’s best to take a break so I don’t get confused. I was out there for the third time when my foot slipped off the pedal. Wham! It hit something quite solid, a bar that you might use to pick up the machine. A second later the right handlebar jumped off. Son $ came outside to smoke, finding me entwined in the bike, muttering about a broken toe and trying to see how to put the bike back together. He couldn’t fix it, either, so I came back inside to do something fun – write about my toe, which by then had quit hurting. A big toe jutting out at an odd angle would have made a much more exciting story.

120515 Broken bike on the floor.JPG

A week later on a warm afternoon I looked at the bicycle again. $ was on the right track. John came out and tightened a nut for me, and the bike was ready to ride. It still loosens itself, so I’ll have to tighten it every five minutes while pedaling.

Grieving with Friends

Grieving with friends who have lost a spouse is new to me. You want to let them know you are thinking of them and that you care about what they are going through. You don’t want to hit raw nerves to cause more pain.

071315 Margaret Aydelotte's memorial service.JPG — Church filled with friends celebrating Margaret’s life

We went out to lunch with James, whose wife Margaret died a few weeks ago. With ritual American manners, we asked, “How ARE you?”

James graciously told us he had a stock answer for that question. He says, “I’m adjusting, but I don’t like it.”

What a marvelous answer! Conversation bore it out when he talked of driving to see most of his relatives, saying, “I drove solo for 2,000 miles without my navigator.”

His characteristic wit and good humor came through. He spoke of downsizing because he is moving to a smaller place in February. He said, “On that long trip, I took things back to my children that they hadn’t necessarily requested.”

In recent years he and Margaret celebrated Thanksgiving with friends. Although he had perhaps 10 invitations this year, he opted to help feed others. The day before the holiday he carved turkeys, and he helped clean up after the meal on Thursday. They served 150 people that day.

I shared with James something Amy laughed about. She went to a regular doctor’s appointment. She said, “You always fill out the same forms every time you go. Looks like they could keep it on file so you wouldn’t have to do that, but they don’t. I came to the line to check off married, single, or other. What am I now? Ron is dead. Does that make me OTHER? I’m not sure I want to be OTHER.”

Later that day I quoted James’ stock answer to Amy. She agreed it was good. She said, “When people ask me how I am, I tell them it depends on the day. I’m new at this, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.”

I’ve come to the conclusion that death is something you never get used to. Those with a vibrant faith in God know they will someday be reunited in heaven. Today I’m thinking particularly of Peg, Sue, Marty, Carol, Linda, Tom, and Ruth whose spouses died in the last few years or a bit longer. I love you and will continue to pray for you.

091415 (32) Goodbye Howard.JPG

Commander Fails to Take a Command

Lise’s departure had been on the calendar for weeks. We knew we had to let her go. John parked in the cell phone waiting area at the airport while I went in the terminal to have a few more minutes with her. That was my reason. Her plan was to demonstrate how easy it would be for us to get on a plane to Denmark. As she walked toward security, I phoned John to circle around to pick me up. Back came a call from him – the Jeep Commander wouldn’t start. Thank heavens that parking lot was within walking distance of the terminal! John knew the problem was not the battery, because all the lights were working. He turned the key, and nothing happened. My mental threats to the vehicle had no effect, either. He called AAA to send a tow, and we settled down to wait. The car was warm enough while the sun was shining on it. Lise’s plane took off when the clouds in the west were pink and lavender. We began to get a little chilly, wearing only light jackets. Finally the tow truck (called a wrecker by the driver) arrived and loaded up the disabled Jeep. We climbed into the warm cab and set off.

The driver was not particularly talkative, but John wanted to butter him up before asking him to drop us off at home. Unfortunately, we’re getting good at being rescued. Half a year ago we were stuck at Bridal Veil Falls when the Jeep wouldn’t start. The tow truck dumped the vehicle at our local garage and took us home. John began chatting to the man. I questioned John later about the conversation, saying I had not understood half the man’s words.

“I didn’t, either!” declared John. He thought the man grew up in a small mountain town on the NC/SC border. He may have had a mountain accent, but it was nothing like the speech of locals in our area.

That big truck came all the way to our drive, and John tipped the driver as we got out. Instead of using our drive and backing into Jean’s, he backed all the way up the street. Amy said she noticed a lot of lights and wondered what was going on. I wouldn’t be surprised if Shawn and Bob heard all the backup beeps. We couldn’t have announced our homecoming in a more public fashion.

As we walked past the poor old heap the next morning, John tried to start it. No go. I walked to the creek while he went inside to arrange for the repairman to look at it. We spent much of the day in Asheville and checked back on the way home. The owner said he got in the Jeep an hour after John did, and it started immediately. Four times during the day it started as if nothing had ever been wrong with it. We drove it home, but Jeepers! who in their right mind would trust it now?

Homeless at Home

I suspect I evaded the cameras on Thanksgiving and the day after, so I don’t have proof that I looked homeless. I was presentable enough on the holiday, wearing a green top and black jeans. As usual, the following day I wore the same clothes to walk. People were up and waiting for us when we got home, so I went into high gear to get breakfast on the table. Of course, we visited at the table and drifted into the kitchen to chat. I planned to shower and change clothes when there was a natural break. Well, the natural break never came, not while I kept talking. On the spur of the moment, we went to the dish barn down the road, and after that, we ate leftovers for a late lunch. By then I had quit thinking of getting clean. After Beth and Bob left for home, I wanted to write before the young set came home. The clock chimed six times. Well, who showers for the day at 6? Might as well go to bed dirty. The next morning I didn’t have any already-worn clothes except the ones that were double dirty. I’d wear them only to walk to the creek with John and visitor Chris, or so I thought. We saw Amy on the way out and invited her to have breakfast with us. It’s marvelous having neighbors who can do things on the spur of the moment. We had some good laughs at the table, but I knew the next activity had to take place inside the shower. I was afraid that at any moment someone might tell me that I SMELLED homeless.

112815 $ JC Anne Chris Lise.JPG — Amy took this, showing me in dirty clothes