One and two months after their respective birthdays, we got together to celebrate with John’s sister Chris and her husband Steve. We both drove a couple of hours, meeting halfway between our homes in North and South Carolina. It’s always a delight to be together and visit. We met in our usual spot for lunch, Olive Garden. The staff has always let us stay as long as we wanted to. It is marvelous to not be hurried. Niece Chrissie (their daughter) and I had texted before we drove down. She sent greetings to her parents and asked for a photo. I sent one of John and her parents from the restaurant, and she commented that I was missing. We took another, using a mirror, to get the four of us together. This has been edited and cropped, but it’s for you, Chrissie.
Anne and John; Steve and Chris
We had a long
goodbye in the parking lot, because we still had a lot to say. I
figured we stayed long enough that we needed another photo.
A summary of our day is this: we drove to Charlotte, spent the day with Nathaniel, and came home. Those of few words could quit reading now and be satisfied.
The first half of
the morning drive was in heavy rain. John had to concentrate on
driving, and I could see little of the beautiful mountain scenery
beyond the mist and fog. Thank heavens the day improved, with only
intermittent showers the rest of the day.
Parking for the
uptown church was in a garage next door. By scanning the ticket
inside the church, the fee was waived. The skyscrapers of the city
center are only a few blocks from the university campus, so Nathaniel
walked around the area to pick out a church to attend when he started
there last September. Walking in the church made this grandmother’s
heart warm, as people greeted Nathaniel. They knew him. Think of
it! He began going there when he was 18 years old and far from all
his family and friends. The clergyman Nathaniel introduced to us
commented that Nate was more regular in attendance than many of the
other parishioners.
I took a photo
from the back pew, Nathaniel’s usual seat, before people began to
come in for the service. Immediately behind us was an aisle, a
slightly raised section for the choir, and the beautiful organ.
After the service, several choir members and the choir director
greeted us. One man in particular spoke of chatting with Nathaniel
from time to time.
I realized the
photo Nathaniel sent me a few weeks ago was not the front of the
church, but a gorgeous view of the back. I should have noticed which
way the pews were facing.
I took only one
photo of our brunch venue. What a typical family picture it was! I
announced I was going to take it, stood up beside the table, aimed
the camera, again asked people to look at me, and pressed the
shutter. One was paying attention. The other two are constant
punsters. I’m sure they assumed I was pressing the shudder button.
Who would have thought it would be difficult to find a place to chat on a Sunday afternoon? If there were a free place to park a car in the business district, we didn’t find it. We looked for a park, but it had metered parking on the perimeter only. We found a former church, now housing a charity, with a parking lot in the shade. We sat there to visit. After several minutes, I realized I could see Nathaniel’s face in the outside mirror, the mirror that tells you objects are closer than you think. Duh! His long toes were wedged under my seat. I would have squirmed if he had wiggled them under me.
The boys posed for
one closeup as we said goodbye on the campus. We had a wonderful
time together and hated to see the day end.
Neighbor Logan (8) and his niece Lily (6) asked to come over to visit a couple of weeks after Easter. As they looked about for things to do, Logan suggested playing with a balloon. Knowing where we keep them, he ran to fetch one. We batted it about for a while, then they spotted two Easter baskets John had put out for decoration. The children wanted us to hide them. We had not hidden eggs for years, but the eggs were there and willing. Lily opened a plastic egg or two, asking if there were anything in them. All 15 were empty. We set no rules, so the children ran back in the room, grabbing eggs as fast as they could. Logan had the advantage, finding three times more than Lily.
Lily and Logan
When Logan first began coming to our house, he was not tall enough to see things on the kitchen counter. He is now. While hunting for eggs, he spotted a tiny glass container holding M&Ms and immediately knew how to get permission to eat them. He asked if they could put one candy in each egg and if I would hide them again. He specifically said there were not enough candies for two in each egg, so there were fewer than 30 pieces there. Both children opened the eggs and loaded them up. I hid them again, but there was a new rule in place as they began to hunt. Lily would find the first one, and they would take turns until all were found. When the candy was eaten, the children decided it was time to go home. Before they left, I requested two photos – one with silly faces and one with smiles.
Silly faces by Lily and Logan
I laughed later
when I saw the M&M container was empty. The children must have
disposed of the few extra ones after the eggs were loaded. I don’t
know that children keep us young, but they do inspire mental
diligence.
I am a most reluctant gardener, so I knew I’d never have a green thumb. Plants see me coming and cower in fear. What on earth do you suppose a purple thumb means?
My purple thumb after pulling weeds in a dewy garden
While I chatted with neighbor Shawn, she said, “With your husband and Dawn’s away, we ought to get together on the porch and chat. The next morning I sent texts to the ladies of the neighborhood. All but the clown could come. (Marla was dressed as a clown for an event in Cherokee.) There was one more person to include, because Joyce told me that Frankie had come back after being away for several months. The gathering morphed into a reunion and a black-out party. Our power went out mid-afternoon, because high winds knocked down an oak tree in the mountains, severing lines to our town. I told everyone to bring their cell phones to recharge, since our generator was on. It was wonderful to be together again to catch up on news. During cold months, we don’t see each other outside very often.
Joyce, Connie, Dawn, Connie, and Frankie
Neither
John nor I noticed the Jeep until neighbor Nancy pointed it out as we
walked by. It was her husband’s vehicle that died. He was only a
few miles from home when the transmission broke. It wouldn’t go
forward, but it could back up. Their sons went to help him, and they
drove it backwards all the way home. That included a stretch on the
four lane divided highway! She said they were laughing and took
photos and videos of the event. Her husband said, “I’m gonna put a
fork in it and call it done.”
The
looks of the Jeep and the story made us laugh. John said, “I’d
tell people I came to a fork in the road.”
The defunct Jeep: ” I’ll put a fork in it and call it done>”
After
church on Sunday we went to Pearson’s Waterfall near Tryon. I was
thinking of grandson Nathaniel, knowing he was flying back to NC
after having competed in the J&W Iron Chef event. A quick text
brought a reply; he was in the airport waiting for his flight. David
agreed to pose by the stream on the way up to the falls, and we sent
the photo to him. On the way down the mountain, we lost all bars,
but we were together in spirit.
We
had the official photo of David and John to prove we were there at
the falls. I laughed when I saw the picture on a larger screen,
because it looks like the water is falling over the rocks and
continuing over David’s shirt. David was not wet, but we all enjoyed
the cool mist coming off the falls.
If I had known grandson Nathaniel’s pastry competition would be streamed live, I would have moved heaven and earth to find it. I didn’t miss it, though, thanks to grandson David. David was looking at his phone when Nathaniel’s dad posted the link on Facebook. David and I sat there with our eyes glued to the phone screen for the full hour. Oh! My! Was it exciting! This was the fourth annual Iron Chef competition for Johnson & Wales University. David helped me download the video and trim it, so we can show it to John when he gets home from the train club. The pictures below are stills from the Facebook video
There were four contestants, one from each of the Johnson & Wales campuses. Left to right, they were Darius from Miami, Nathaniel from Charlotte, Alina from Providence, and Zoe from Denver. As soon as they were introduced, the clock started. They had one hour to prepare and plate a dessert for the judges. I haven’t watched many cooking shows, but this seemed like some I had seen on TV. The MC chef moved around the kitchen, chatting with the contestants as they worked. This show was sponsored by Rich’s, so the students had to incorporate one product from that manufacturer.
It seemed to me that every time Nathaniel was approached, he responded well. The comment said over and over about him was that he was in control. What better thing to say about a person under extreme pressure! He kept his cool and finished his dessert on time.
At the end, I expected the judges to critique the dishes, pointing out good and bad points. Perhaps because of time constraints, they skipped this step. The chef announced the fourth and third places. That left Nathaniel and Alina in the running, and they turned to shake hands.
Alina danced with joy when she won the competition. One had to be thrilled with her accomplishment. She was a fourth-year student with experience, and she was extremely articulate while cooking. Her dessert was unusual and was presented impressively.
The official winner? Alina. First place for me? Nathaniel. He made individual molten chocolate cakes with a strawberry sauce, topped with fresh strawberries. I could almost feel that winning taste explode in my mouth.
It’s no wonder women gossip, because half the human race is not very forthcoming. Sixty years ago my mom told me the only way she could find out anything from my brother was to fire questions at him. He would volunteer to spread gravel in your driveway or lead devotions before school started, but volunteer information? No way! It wasn’t part of his makeup. John is a bit better than that with me. I get the bare bones of a story and have to pump him for details or make them up myself. My story today began after John hung up from talking with grandson Nathaniel several weeks ago.
John
began with the summary. He said, “Nate won a cake-baking contest
at school, and they are going to fly him to the Providence campus to
compete in the next round.”
The
summary was all I was going to get without mashing his brain for
more. What did he bake? Does he have a photo of it? When is the
trip? How long will he be gone? How will he get to the airport?
Will somebody meet him in Providence? What will he bake next? Will
he get to see his friends up there? When will he know the results?
Was he excited?
I
didn’t get any more information, because the grandson didn’t give him
details. I’m sure both fellows were totally satisfied that they had
sent and received the bare facts as required. No more needed to be
said.
Fast
forward to the present. I was aware that Nathaniel was traveling
today and had him in my thoughts. My phone dinged, and this photo is
what I found with the caption, “Wish me luck.”
Wish me luck.
Because
there is an old family story about condensation on a plane, I asked,
“The plane isn’t leaking, is it?”
He replied, “Nah, I’m on a large plane.” I had forgotten that he was once on a small plane and took a photo of water dripping from an overhead bin. We chatted back and forth with totally inane conversation until he said the announcement came they were taking off.
[I could not get the Gutenberg editor to let me position this photo with an earlier paragraph. This is most frustrating.]
Nathaniel
texted again to say he was in Philadelphia. He wrote, “I am at my
next gate! First time ever in Philadelphia I’ve had a short walk!!!
Usually I am booking it across the airport.”
I
finally asked one meaningful question. “Are you doing anything to
prepare for the competition, or is everything last minute?” He
said, “Last minute. I have no choice.”
Make
that two good questions. “What time shall I be praying extra hard
for you?”
He
replied, “10:45 – 11:45 on Friday.” A few minutes later,
“Taking off now, bye.”
A
little while later he sent this photo of his motel room. I could
fill in the blanks for that. Someone picked him up at the airport
and dropped him off. He also said there would be a nice dinner in
the evening. Three friends who were with him in the high school
culinary program are students at the Providence campus. They will
see each other after the competition. John did mention that
Nathaniel had the option of flying back to Charlotte Saturday or
Sunday. He chose Sunday and will spend all day Saturday with his
friends.
You
don’t have to tell me that I complained without cause. I wasn’t any
better at getting information than John. What I do know for sure is
that I am one proud grandmother. I can’t believe this grandson won a
contest and was jetting about the country by himself, and he is only
19 years old. Well done, Nathaniel!
It’s
no wonder the boy likes cake. When we celebrated his birthday,
his mom always bought him a beautiful cake. The photo shows him
at age 10.
What is the first thing you would do if you were alone in your home? I took a nap and decided I’d think about what I wanted to do when I woke up. John and grandson David went to the train club, so I’ll have over 24 hours to make choices before David comes back. John will return in four days.
The
thing I am least likely to do when people are around is read a book.
I opened one where I’d left off days ago and immersed myself in it.
Lots of my blogging friends are voracious readers, and I want to know
how you do it. How do you bring yourself back to the real world
after being totally in another? I become the main character and
float through that setting as if there were no other. With no
interruptions, I covered several years in the character’s life. I
surfaced when the setting flipped to another decade, which seemed to
break the spell. Do any of you set a timer to come back to life? I
suspect it could be dangerous to lose oneself in a book. What if you
never came back?
John
started the dishwasher before he left. I don’t like starting a meal
until the kitchen is in order, so I put the clean dishes away before
making the next choice. With no one to cook for, I opted to prepare
pimiento cheese for light meals. My mother served it fairly often,
so it’s comfort food for me. What a rude shock I had when I married
John and moved north! No one, NO ONE, would eat it! Evidently it
was popular only in the South. People weren’t content to say no
thank you. They looked at me like I had two heads. These same
people could eat the stinkiest cheese in the world and smack their
lips over ones that tasted rotten to me, but they refused to touch
pimiento cheese. As you can imagine, I never served it to anyone
again. There is only person who shares it with me now, son John $.
I don’t always remember to make it when he is coming, but I should.
Is there anyone reading this who would eat pimiento cheese? If so,
you are my soul sister or soul brother, and I love you.
We had a lot of rain and kept seeing flood warnings on our cell phones. John opted for half a walk, because he is recovering from a sinus infection and possibly the flu. I walked on to check Jonathan Creek and brought him a photo to show him how high it was. We have lived here four and a half years and have never seen it escape from its banks. It was nowhere near flood stage this time.
Jonathan Creek
While driving in Asheville, we saw the French Broad River flooding low areas. A few vehicles and houses were wading in the water, but most were above it. David posed at a riverside picnic area to show how high the river was there.
David with the flooded French Broad River
We
drove on through some small towns and stopped for lunch in one of
them. The cafe catered to locals and a few travelers. It was fun to
hear the speech around us. The great granddaughter of the owner,
dressed in a Cinderella costume, played among the tables. She
climbed into the booth with a local woman she knew and sang Puff,
the Magic Dragon. You don’t expect free entertainment at a cafe
in the middle of the day.
We
drove along the Pigeon River that runs through the gorge connecting
North Carolina and Tennessee. The river was definitely out of its
banks, judging by many trees standing in the muddy, rushing water.
Because it was a rather humdrum flood, I failed to take a picture to
share. It rained off and on all day, and after we came home, we saw
the forecast for snow in a few hours. We were highly skeptical that
it would happen, but our eyes slid to the window every once in a
while just to check.
Call me wacky, but I was the woman who waged war with wicked weeds. Whew!! Both John and I had trimmed bushes and trees in the garden last Fall, leaving the branches on the ground. Major mistake! I intended to pick them up long before Spring had sprung. Not only were the branches covered by fallen leaves, they had been overrun by very vicious weeds. If I were naming the weed, I would tentatively call it “octopus”. Tentacles Tendrils wove themselves into a thick mat over leaves and branches. I could hardly see some of the sticks and had to tug at the mess to get them. What a mess!
Next year I shall trim bushes with a wheelbarrow beside me.
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?
y! Was it exciting! This was the fourth annual Iron Chef competition for Johnson & Wales University. David helped me download the video and trim it, so we can show it to John when he gets home from the train club. The pictures below are stills from the Facebook video
tarted. They had one hour to prepare and plate a dessert for the judges. I haven’t watched many cooking shows, but this seemed like some I had seen on TV. The MC chef moved around the kitchen, chatting with the contestants as they worked. This show was sponsored by Rich’s, so the students had to incorporate one product from that manufacturer.
experience, and she was extremely articulate while cooking. Her dessert was unusual and was presented impressively. 
Mehrling Muse 