Flying Visit in a Car

Brother Bob and wife Beth texted from Pigeon Forge that they could drop by on their way home. How marvelous it was to have a few hours with them! Poor John had the flu, so Beth and Bob spoke to him from a distance and took David and me out to lunch.

It would have been a normal lunch at our favorite Mexican restaurant, but Bob noticed a special chicken soup on the menu. It would take 20 minutes to make it. We weren’t in a hurry, so we talked until the food was ready. What a huge bowl it was! This was not a trick photo, with the bowl being near the camera. It really was that big. The waiter said some restaurants keep it on hand, but they make it only when it’s ordered. Bob said it was delicious and worth the wait.

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041619 Beth Bob.JPG

Back at our house, we sat on the porch to visit and eat Brownies until they had to leave. With long distances involved, we rarely see family on the spur of the moment. This was very special.

Kitchen Air Freshener

Quite accidentally, I discovered a delightful new air freshener for the kitchen. Grandson David and I were cleaning up after a meal one day, and we smelled a marvelous scent that we couldn’t identify at first. Pancakes and coffee came to mind. We hadn’t had pancakes recently. Son John $ was in our house while we were in New York, but he wouldn’t have had that. It finally dawned on me that I had dropped a coffee filter on the floor before we took our trip. Loose coffee was on the floor, and I used the dust buster to clean it up. The flavor of the special grind was bacon/maple. The next time we used the little machine, it dispensed that scent throughout the kitchen. Of course, this lasted only until we emptied it, but it was great until then.

Driving the Old Folks

Both John and grandson David find speed limit signs inspiring. They push to the outer edge of the legal limit no matter where they are. Because John was coming down with a cold, David drove us to visit son John $. His place is only 30 miles away, but it takes at least an hour to drive over three mountain ridges to get there. David whizzed around hairpin turns until I thought I’d get whiplash trying to see the gorgeous scenery and derelict barns, laced together with bubbling streams. He slowed down when we asked him to. After going through $’s town, David realized we were not due there for another 15 minutes. He drove slower and slower on River Road until I burst out laughing. John could have out-walked the car at five miles per hour.

“David!” I said. “People are going to look in the car and feel sorry for you, having to drive the old geezers at a walking pace!”

With that, he hunched over like a buzzard and pushed his face forward. I couldn’t quit laughing, and John joined in. It was a lovely, warm day, and people were sitting on the porches of their vacation cabins. If they noticed our pace and heard our cackles, they would have thought the inmates of the insane asylum had escaped.

We picked up $ and drove to the Iron Horse, one of our favorite places to eat. David was the first to see the headlight of the train engine as we parked. He and John jumped out to watch it pass. That was a high point of their day. I didn’t listen to them, but I’m sure they were counting the number of freight cars that passed.

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Back at $’s house, we relaxed on the porch. David saw a number of butterflies. $ explained that there is a rare white butterfly found only in that area and in California. He has a friend who is an expert on butterflies, and that man brings people in to see them.

041319 $ David on $'s porch.JPG

$ took David on a quick hike, while John and I gazed at the river and listened to the water rushing over small boulders. They hoped to see a small black bear that $ has seen often this winter. He thinks it’s the same one we saw when daughter Lise came for Thanksgiving. They had a nice walk together, but they didn’t spot the bear.

041319 Pink dogwood from $'s porch.JPG

We drove up a private road for a grand view of the river valley.

Stopping by the place where John works, the fellows played a fast game of Foosball. I had never watched that game before and found it amusing.

041319 David $ Foosball.JPG

We had a lovely drive home as the sun was setting behind the mountains. David may have been glad his chauffeuring day was over, but he didn’t say so.

How Wet??

We walked under 5% to 10% chance-of-rain clouds. When almost to the creek, the halfway point, we felt sprinkles. I persuaded John to go on to the creek with me, and right away urged him to go back home. He dislikes raindrops on his head. Bless his heart, he kept walking with me. Real rain fell from the creek all the way home.

I was wet enough that:

I took off my glasses to see the road.

My eyebrows failed to function.

My shoes squished with each step – wet from the top. John heard the squishy sounds!!

We came in via the laundry room to remove shoes.

I laid clothes out to dry before putting them in the laundry basket.

My hair needed no extra water before the application of shampoo.

John discovered his jacket was water-repellent. I was not wearing a jacket, and I found my skin was as waterproof as it ever was. Thankfully, the camera and phone were not harmed. There is no selfie. If there were one, John would frame it and silently point to it on every cloudy day.

A Retirement Monday

Grandson David had the day off, and we decided to have a short day trip after the car was serviced. Being in Asheville would give us a quick start. The car place didn’t take long, but as we drove away, David was called into work. We knew that might happen. Rain was in the forecast, anyway, so we drove home. It was a lovely drive to nowhere.

John thought perhaps we might do a little gardening, and that’s exactly what I did. He took the garbage to the trash center, while I clipped some over-zealous tendrils that were trying to invade the garage. A light drizzle fell, gradually wetting my back. This was perfect for my first day in the garden this year. Twenty minutes was enough to make me feel quite virtuous. Doing the garbage run took him longer. I enjoyed a fresh cup of mocha coffee on the porch as the drizzle turned into a downpour.

This was as good a day as any to make a Christmas pie. I promised John a Cranberry Mince Pie last December and never made it. Surely this is not as theologically askew as you might think. We wouldn’t have Easter without Christmas, and Christmas would not be celebrated without Easter. John won’t quibble, and David won’t either. Besides, it will all be gone before Palm Sunday.

040819 Cranberry Mince Pie.JPG

In case you are wondering, I will not tag grandson Nathaniel on this. Even for a family-only dish, he would strive for perfection. I should not have dumped all the filling in the shell, because I suspected it would overflow. It did, but the cookie sheet caught it. There wasn’t enough dough to make a proper lattice crust. Nathaniel would have made another batch. I didn’t and went from batch to botch. I won’t bitch about the botch, because almost any Butch would eat it.

Walking John

Neighbor Nancy waved at me from her porch at the bottom of the steep hill. I stopped to chat and waved my phone in the air. I said, “I’m walking John this morning. He’s in Tennessee at the train club, and we’re texting.”

Nancy is both dreading and looking forward to her husband’s retirement in a few weeks. She said, “I cook breakfast only on Sunday and Monday right now. When he is retired, he’s going to want eggs for breakfast every day.”

The landscaper has adorned his burn pile with bottles hanging from a long branch, a small red ball, and an American flag. I didn’t realize it was a work in progress until I saw the additions today.

040619 Landscaper's burn pile art.JPG

Spring is coming to the mountains. The creeping thrift is beginning its annual show. I suspect we would appreciate this more if we had seen the snow while we were away. The neighbors didn’t talk about it, but we heard a weather report that said it was snowing in the Carolina mountains.

040619 Spring comes to our house.JPG

Singular Sillies

A crowd is not necessary for sillies to erupt. Grandson David and I were finishing a very flaky pastry John bought for us on Long Island. It was thick, and one needed a giant’s mouth to bite it properly. I paid no attention as David brought it toward his face. I heard a soft uumm sound. Without knowing the cause, my hand reached for the camera. In our house, you freeze when you know something silly is happening, and the uumm is as good as a trumpet fanfare. He held the pose a few seconds, knowing he couldn’t recreate it. The pastry looked like big-bunny buck teeth* sticking out of his mouth. As soon as I said, “Got it!”, he began to chew as we both laughed.

040519 Big bunny buck teeth pastry.JPG

*Grammar Cop Ellie (https://crossedeyesanddottedtees.wordpress.com), where do hyphens belong?

Shrinkage

Even though John did all the driving to New York and back, I was tired. I unpacked, put a meal on the table, took a nap, and thought I would make it to bedtime. In the evening grandson David tried to explain something to me. I told him to try again the next day, because I couldn’t think well.

He laughed when I said, “I haven’t lost my marbles, but they have shrunk. They are now the size of BBs.”

I had enough brain power left to be thankful we spent quality time with relatives and friends and heard heavenly music. We were in the car about 30 hours, playing CDs almost constantly. John said we listened to a great majority of our music for Lent. There is no telling how long it would take to hear the recordings for Holy Week and Easter.

Kings Concert

Morning and afternoon were free, so we went to one of our favorite eateries, Hauppauge (pronounced hop-hog) Palace Diner. Long Island is chock full of good diners – the kind with a huge menu, bottomless coffee cups, efficient service, breakfast all day, and dessert choices that no bakery would be ashamed of. Grandson David’s former college roommate, Justin, met us there. It was great to see him again. The young men went their way, and I sneaked in a quick nap.

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We stopped by the harbor when we saw the tide was low. I used to love listening to the Singing Stones, a row of rocks across the stream. When the tide is out, the water makes a lovely sound rushing through the rocks. It was great to hear it again.

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We picked up friend Ruth and went to Manhattan for the concert by the choir of Kings College, Cambridge. John had it timed perfectly. We reached 5^th Avenue about five minutes before it would be legal to park on the street. John and David read all the signs carefully before buying time from the meter. We could see St. Thomas and the people standing on the steps, waiting for the doors to open for the concert. We stayed in the warm car until that queue of people disappeared. This had to have been the best parking spot in the city for that concert.

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The previous day we were near the front of the church for Evensong, which was a free worship service. This time our assigned seats were about six pews from the back. John estimated there were 1,500 people there. It was gratifying to see the church full of people who shared our interest in religious choral music.

040119 St Thomas crowd for concert.JPG

People absorb a lot of sound, but the acoustics were so good that we could hear the music quite well. We followed the printed words for a more meaningful experience. When John asked what pieces I liked best, I had to think about it. Although the program ended with Vaughn Williams, I wasn’t sure how much I liked it. He is one of my favorite composers, but the words were odd. The text was lifted from Pilgrim’s Progress. I’ll just say the music made up for the words.

The other piece I particularly enjoyed was by Samuel Sebastian Wesley, a great nephew of the Methodist co-founder Charles Wesley. I didn’t think I had heard any of his works before, but I discovered he wrote “Lead Me Lord”, which we have sung many times.

John said the first half of the program was meant for him. That included Monteverdi, Tallis, Palestrina, Byrd, Bach, Lotti, Humffrey, and Purcell. David loved everything and couldn’t pick a favorite.

As I was waking up the day after the concert, John went out for bags of bagels. These were not for our breakfast. They will be our first meal of the day for many Sundays to come. We can get bagels in our local supermarket, but Ingles has a limited variety. Our favorites include whole wheat, onion, egg, and egg everything.

I took the last two photos as we left town. A basket that usually has plants spilling out of it in summer had Easter eggs and flowers for the season. That was tasteful, but the second was downright garish. I don’t know why I like outside Easter decorations. Maybe it’s because we never had them and don’t plan to start now. Hanging eggs from trees is silly enough to appeal to me, as long the result is reasonably artistic. I’m curious. Do you like egg trees and Easter decorations?

Postscripts

If I added something about a blog post, it would truly be a postscript, wouldn’t it?

We were excited when David showed us an Instagram photo and said our picture had gone around the world. He follows Kings College, Cambridge and found a shot taken while we were in St. Thomas church before Evensong began. We were aware that a photographer was working in the chancel area and taking pictures of the directors of the choirs. Looking at it on his phone, we imagined we saw ourselves. When we blew it up, we realized the back of the church was showing. We had been in the 6^th pew from the front, so we couldn’t have been in the background. Oh, well. This shot is a good one of Cleobury and Hyde.

033119 Daniel Hyde and Stephen Cleobury at St Thomas.jpg

While walking toward the beach in Stony Brook, John noticed the whitecaps in the distance. I zoomed so far that I failed to include the Game Cock Cottage, which should have showed on the right. The temperature was 34 degrees (just above freezing), and the wind was blowing at 19 miles per hour. I walked under similar conditions for 20 years and hardly ever noticed it. When I commented on that, John reminded me that we are five years older now. That never occurred to me!

040119 Whitecaps on West Meadow Beach.JPG