Nathaniel and friend Sarah came for almost 24 hours so that we could celebrate his university graduation. This was my favorite photo of the two of them.
Nathaniel and Sarah
Kate, John, Nathaniel, Sarah, and David
We had the celebratory meal at the Blue Rooster where we could hear and see each other.
Nathaniel sat right under one of the blue roosters in the dining room.
A Nathaniel creation was planned from the beginning, and he made a strawberry shortcake with the berries he, Sarah, and friend Dakota picked the day before. Sarah did a beautiful job of preparing the berries.
When the cake was half way finished, I asked them to pose with it.
Everyone waited patiently for the official photo and a close-up of students and cake.
What you can’t see or hear was all the cheerful chatter. It was wonderful to have these hours with them, and I think we made the most of it. Congratulations on your graduation, Nathaniel!! We are very, very proud of you.
Want to walk with us to the creek? Daughter Kate is with us for a week, and we are loving every minute. I won’t take photos of our sitting and talking, but we have recorded things we’ve seen outside.
The first amusing thing we passed was a neighbor’s vegetable garden. I always wave to the scarecrow the first time I see him in the Spring, not realizing that it isn’t a real person. This year Warren added two pink flamingos, which made us laugh. In the middle is a sprinkler he has hooked up to a pump in the little stream that runs beside his property. I’ve never seen it operating, but his plants are never thirsty.
CAT greeted John and Kate, then walked with us for a while.
Kate found just the right spot to scratch her neck.
At the firehouse we found the first rosebud of the year.
We took the obligatory selfie at the creek.
I was pleased to find a cluster of blooms of the horse chestnut tree on the way home.
Kate posed with Park Branch that flows through our area. It is so small that it is called a branch rather than a stream.
At home, we found the lilac bush blooming and scenting the air all around it.
Most folks know I am challenged by numbers in many ways. Carrying a number in my mind across a room is almost impossible. Remembering a six-digit number from one screen to another is not easy, particularly if they should be in the same order. Today I hit a new low. I was hurrying to go out to walk, looked at the digital clock at 7:11 and said in my head, “Seven eleven-teen.”
On Easter Sunday, John and grandson David propped the sagging beam that held up the Wicked Wisteria. In other places, wisteria vines have beautiful clusters of lavender flowers. Ours refuses to bloom, has produced velvety seeds only once, and is burrowing under the ground in every direction to take over our property and kill us. If left alone, the pergola would have collapsed. Son John $pencer had strengthened the outer part of the structure, and we couldn’t let his good work go to waste, could we?
John mentioned the problem to neighbor Bob. A few days later he came over to size up the job while John was away. I went out to check on him a couple of times, intending to take a picture or video. In no time, Bob finished the repairs and disappeared! Didn’t he do a marvelous job?
Bob’s was not the only disappearing act. The next morning when I went out to walk, I discovered the dead Christmas tree on the porch was gone. Bob took it to his burn pile to get rid of it! There are not enough words in the dictionary to thank him properly for such kindness. Our neighbors are irreplaceable – the absolute best in the world!
Neighbors Shawn and Bob were given marvelous tickets to a sold-out concert, and we were the lucky ones who kept Logan (11). What a delight! We picked him up at the tennis court, arriving in time to watch him practice. On the way home, he talked about the coach who is also his teacher for most academic subjects. She is the kind who inspires students wherever she goes.
Logan in red shirt on left
I was impressed with Logan’s taking care of his two dogs. As soon as we got home, he let the dogs out, fed them exactly what they needed, and let them out again – all part of their routine. I glanced at the floors to make sure the dogs hadn’t pooped inside. Seeing a dark spot in the hall, I asked Logan to check it. My depth perception isn’t what it used to be. He knew it wasn’t three-dimensional and put his foot right on it. Whew! Logan tended the dogs again at night and in the morning
The short afternoon was gone far too quickly. John and I had found a toy airplane that we thought might be fun. I asked John if he wanted to go out with Logan, and Logan quickly said, “I can play by myself. I’m used to playing alone.”
He is always accommodating. I wanted a video of the action, so I was outside with him. The plane was a total dud, not having a single noteworthy flight, not a single one!! Oldsters tend to think things in the past were glorious, but we remember airplanes that glided through the air and gently landed in the grass.
An airplane that refused to fly
Logan plays Wordle now, and he knew where to find unlimited games on the computer. We worked two together. Having talked with friend Susan, I knew people often have a favorite word to start. You choose one with most-used consonants and vowels. Logan’s is adieu, and mine is ideal. What amused me was the difference in our strategy. His mind is very quick, so he guessed words using letters he knew were correct. I didn’t repeat those on the second line, choosing to try out a different array to find more letters in the word. As in the game of Set, we both get the right answer, only he does it ten times quicker than I can. I stand in awe of his brain.
There was no time for play in the morning. After breakfast, Logan took care of the dogs, and we drove to school. I knew everyone would want to see his face and had to make do with a photo inside the car.
Logan always puts on his seat belt without being reminded.
Logan’s manners are impeccable. He holds good conversations with everyone, knows proper table manners, helps clear the table, says thank you for everything done for him, and his sense of humor is delightful. If every neighborhood had a Logan, what a marvelous world this would be! [Kudos to Shawn and Bob, once again, parents of the year.]
Cleaning out old computer files seemed like a good idea to do while John and grandson David were away for three days. I had erased old lists, plans, and notes to people who are now dead. I hadn’t planned on giggling.
I wrote that I heard Lise laughing in her room and asked what was so funny. She replied, “I’m reading your family letters that I got in college before scanning them. Look at this one.”
I shouldn’t have laughed, but I couldn’t help it. A child told me a nightmare he’d had. Of course, one can’t share the horror of a dream in broad daylight. I could understand he’d waked with heart pounding and sweat pouring off him, but there was nothing in the telling that could make me quake. The punch line was so exquisite that I can’t resist writing it. You won’t let him know, will you? I wouldn’t want his feelings hurt, and he won’t be ready to hear this one on himself until he’s 25 years old.
In a confidential monotone voice he said, “I had a bad nightmare. A buffalo came at me and then elephants. This was in the mountains, and an elephant picked me up and carried me off up the mountain. It was awful. I was hunting for the abba, — the abda, — the ABDOMINAL snowman when I got picked up.”
Before going out to walk, I looked at two thermometers. The one on the deck showed it was just above freezing, while the one on the back porch proclaimed it was just below freezing. Maybe I should check what the birds were dealing with. From the top, the birdbath didn’t look bad.
Here is a selfie of the ice and my hand.
Taking the ice out of its mold, I set it on the railing. Can you see the round hole in the top where I poured in very hot tap water?
On a hunch that the underside would be interesting, I turned the mold over. There seem to be strands of ice from the rocks to the surface, working to tie them in firmly. When I showed grandson David the photos, it occurred to me that the rocks were poking above the water. I have little scientific knowledge, but I wonder if the rocks were colder than the water. That could explain why there was extra ice attached to them.
Ice couldn’t argue with Spring sunshine. When I thought to check on the rocks three hours later, they were dry, though sitting on damp wood.
I know it’s Spring when I look at the thermometer, throw on appropriate layers, walk outside for a while, and shed clothing as needed. That’s why I had a long-standing agreement with Connie and Marla for hanging a jacket on their mailbox near the stop sign. After they moved, I asked for the same permissions from Harmony and Lise across the street. This week I pulled off the hat and jacket before reaching the end of our driveway. No special permission needed!
Later that day, Connie came for our every-other-month lunch. While Albert is being groomed, she spends the time with us. I love this schedule that insures we keep in touch. We had hoped Shawn could join us, but communications were awry. John took a photo of us. After it was too late, I realized the lovely decoration on Connie’s sleeve did not show to advantage. I am wearing one of the new tops the neighbors picked out for me from the thrift shop. “They” say the best thing to wear is a smile, and we both kept those on.
I love Kate’s phrases. As John was teasing her, she said, “Mommy! Can you behave him?”
It just doesn’t DO for me to stay up too late! We had a marvelous time at the home group, but got home at midnight. The following day, dinner was a disaster. The pastry slid willy-nilly off the meat, jello unmolded from the new bunny mold into a wiggly heap, and $ poured a pint (that’s 20 ounces here!) of milk onto the floor. It was almost enough to make one swear off church meetings! Thank heavens we didn’t have guests for that meal!
Canterbury, on a lovely warm spring day, has a magical busy-ness. I got the feeling of pilgrims bustling about, even though St. Thomas a Becket’s shrine was destroyed by Henry VIII in 1538. At right is an entrance to the cathedral area through the archway on the right.
We saw the place where the tomb had been and the deeply worn stone steps leading there. The Black Prince is buried there, as well as Henry IV, the only king interred in Canterbury.
John had as much trouble as I did finding a place to park in Brighton, with one difference – he found one! I finally got to see the elaborate inside of that exotic Indian/Oriental fantasy, the Royal Pavilion, built by the Prince Regent (later George IV). We even had a delicious lunch in one of the upstairs rooms. Most of the furniture was designed specifically for each room, so they matched in style and upholstery. The columns, wall decorations and gigantic chandeliers, called gasoliers by a guide, were fantastic. I was fascinated with letters on display of the Prince and Mrs. Fitzherbert, the widow he secretly married.
Brighton Pavilion
Pavilion from another angle
The Bible is right again – the more you ask for, the more you get. We were in the middle of an argument with a child when I sent a quick one up: “Lord, please solve this one and the ones to come when John won’t be here.” Immediately, with split-second timing, the phone rang! My brother Bob was on the other end saying he and his girls are coming to visit in June. That solved June for me, and when I turned around, the present problem flitted out the window in the excitement.
We had a gorgeous early summer day to drive near Bath to Longleat – the stately home of the Marquis of Bath. The house is 400 years old, a huge place, but the sizes of the rooms were livable. Even years ago people wanted souvenirs to take home, and the Thynnes were no exception. Displayed in the house was the shirt, complete with blood stains, that Charles I wore for his execution. I was very surprised when the guide pointed to two door facings from the Taj Mahal.
Longleat from our car
There were three dining rooms – one last used in 1923 where we saw the silver wired to alarms, another where the guide showed a dining room that the family uses when there are no guests. The present Marquis has celebrated two silver wedding anniversaries – 25 years with each of two wives. He still lives in the house, as do two sons and their families.
Longleat dome
Drawing room
Drawing room
The grounds were beautiful, originally landscaped by Capability Brown. We were fascinated by one large old tree with a plaque saying it was planted by George III when he came for a visit!
So many ancestral homes are in jeopardy because of the steep inheritance taxes, and Longleat is no exception. Behind the house is an amusement park with a railroad we had to ride, a garden center, maze, and shops. Across the valley is the safari park, Europe’s first. We were amused at the cartoons displayed in the great hall, all poking fun at a peer of the realm keeping animals.
$ was impressed with the giraffes, whose knobby knees we looked up at from our car. He’s still imitating the monkey that sat on our car. Just at feeding time we saw the lions, tigers, and wolves pounce on their pieces of meat.
Before going into Salisbury, we saw Old Sarum. It had the deepest moat we’ve ever seen, 11th century ruins of a cathedral, and a fort.
Old Sarum moat
Ruins of the cathedral
Old well at Sarum
We didn’t find out the extent of damage to the cathedral of Salisbury until after the evensong service. At 2 a.m. vandals had entered through a small window and set fire to the altar and a side chapel, though all we saw at first was the charred altar. In an effort to clear the vestiges of smoke, the huge doors were thrown wide open. The church had been closed all day and was reopened just before the service.
The church is renowned for three things – the tallest spire in Europe (404 ft.), one of the oldest clocks of its kind in England, and in the library one of the four original copies of the Magna Carta. We liked its setting in wide green lawns. Some cathedrals have other buildings so close that it’s hard to see the church, but not this one.
Salisbury close
[Forty years after we were at Salisbury, I have one other note to add for those of you who have sent or received on-line cards by Jacquie Lawson. She uses the singers from the choir of this cathedral on the sound tracks, and most big church drawings are based on the cathedral.]
We spent the night at the Red Lion Hotel – a medieval coaching inn with tiny passages that turn sharp corners and go up and down many levels. The rooms were cozy with many lovely touches. Sewing kits were little stuffed pillows fixed to the vanity, holding needles, thread, pins and safety pins. Attached to the walls were built-in electric kettles with a cabinet holding cups and the makings of tea and coffee.
Unfortunately, John became ill just before dinner and chose to go to bed rather than eat. The girls and I were leery of coping with $, but everything went smoothly in the hotel restaurant. Lisa took him to her room while Kate and I finished eating; the entertainment was brushing his teeth with Lisa’s toothbrush!
Sunday morning John’s innards felt better, but I can’t answer for the way he faced the world. I’ll leave it to your conjecture as to what happened to his razor blade.
Wells is a small jewel of a town with spring water gushing out of a fountain just outside the walls of the cathedral. We read that there are seven wells, though only this one is prominent.
Wells spring
The west entrance of the church can’t be seen because of scaffolding for restoration work, but the inside is exquisite. An unusual feature is the inverted arch work which holds up the central tower. We sat in the front row of the quire next to the boys – 18 of them and only one wearing glasses.
Vicar’s Close
Beside the church is the oldest complete street in Europe – Vicar’s Close – where all the houses were built in the 14th century. On the other side of the church was a moated enclosure for the bishop’s palace, still in use as a residence.
Bishop’s palace
We feasted on a traditional Sunday lunch of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding at the Swan Hotel nearby. Then we drove to Glastonbury to see the ruins of the Abbey where King Arthur is supposed to be buried.
Glastonbury Abbey
Another view of Glastonbury Abbey
Supposed site of King Arthur’s tomb
Legend has it that the Holy Grail is also there, brought by Joseph of Arimathea. Joseph had leaned on his staff, the staff sprouted into a thorn bush, and he knew he had to establish a church there. During the Civil War (England’s, not ours) the tree was cut down, but a new one was started from a cutting.
Family with new thorn bush
On the way home we drove through Cheddar, now as famous for a commercialized natural wonder (a gorge) as for cheese. With a speed limit of 70 miles per hour on motorways, we scooted home in three hours.
We’re leaving on our last continental holiday April 1 and won’t return until the 20th. Then we’re having guests almost till the date John is to return to New York to start work.
I lost contact with Nick when he switched from blogging to pod-casting. I’m thrilled that he contacted me, and I am now back in the loop. If you have ANY interest at all in classical music, please listen to one. Nick talks briefly about a selection and plays it. Instant pleasure! There are usually several in each podcast. There are now almost 40 to choose from, with a new one every week. I love the title, Perfect Pitch.
This is the blurb that appears on the web site: “Perfect Pitch brings you a whole new approach to classical music. For experts and beginners alike, Perfect Pitch is an accessible, relaxed, and informative dive into the best classical works over the centuries and some of the fascinating stories behind the music and their composers.”
It is very easy to access with the link here. Listen with your computer, tablet, or cell phone. If you like what you hear, please share with your relatives and friends. Nick loves to share his passion for music with everyone. He told me this is a mission, not a commercial enterprise. I’d say, “Mission accomplished!”
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?
Mehrling Muse 