Our family went to war, not with each other, but with the Wicked Wisteria. We were waiting for David to get off work when grandson Nathaniel remembered I wanted him to trim a climbing plant next to the house. He marched out with the loppers and never made it past the wisteria. Flatfooted, he trimmed two feet more of the vine than I could have.
Daughter Kate took a turn holding the ladder for her dad.
The back porch is where we see the wicked wisteria reaching out to envelop the house.
I thought things were too dangerous when John held the ladder for Nathaniel to clip the branches on top. I presume Kate was the guardian angel on duty in the background. Look at the young man’s size 13 feet on the tiny ladder top. *shudder*
Evidently, the ladder was more stable when Nathaniel continued giving the wicked vine a haircut. No one was paying him any attention. Kate appeared to be holding up the pergola with a magic wand. In the end, the magic was in the appearance of the unruly plant.
We won! Never fear, the wicked wisteria will fight back, but it is no match for our speed with Nathaniel on our side.
Our tall grandsons struggle to keep their legs and feet out of each other’s way at the dining table. It’s even worse on the porch where the table is narrow. They manage well while sitting straight to eat, but when we relax and chat, the fun begins. I noticed a year or so ago that the boys and John would begin to twitch a bit. Their poker faces projected the message that nothing was going on. Under the straight faces, shoulders might move slightly or muscles would contract a bit. I’ve learned to spot this subtle activity before anyone asks, “And where do you think your feet are going?”
They have perfected the art of non-verbal teasing. Most of the time they keep the conversation going, despite the foot-sparring. We were in a restaurant where we five squeezed around a table that would have been tight for four. I stood up to get a photo of the others to remind myself what a good time we’d had there. You can see how we were seated.
The twitching began as they waited for me to finish eating. Kate was giggling, but I didn’t realize what she was doing. She slipped out her phone and took a picture of the feet under the table. Her legs were clad in blue, and her feet were together. David’s black slacks seem to be hugging her feet. And the black shoes pushing against the wall? Nathaniel’s!
I hope I’m there to see it if they ever tie themselves in knots and can’t stand up.
Our Sunday was not out of the ordinary until we drove away from church on a busy street. The car bucked repeatedly, and all the emergency lights came on. John managed to rabbit-hop into the parking lot of a funeral home before it died. We were 30 miles from home. Stranded!!! As John looked up the number of AAA (roadside assistance), David and Kate ran to the front of the lot to find the address and name of the funeral home. In a matter of minutes, the dispatcher said a tow truck had just passed our location and would turn around to help us.
John would ride in the truck with the car, but what would the four of us do? We thought of the one neighbor who had a car big enough to carry us and who might be home. Angels don’t hesitate. They act. That’s exactly what Marla and Connie did. They were heading to the supermarket, so they immediately turned the car in our direction. Cars on the interstate ramp were stopped. Thinking quickly, they diverted to state roads, which took a bit more time than expected. The photo shows Kate and the boys in the shade of a tree with our sick car in the background.
A somber funeral director came out to see what we were doing. I explained that our car died and was being taken away.
“There is nothing you can do for a dead car, is there?” I said.
The man was obviously used to dealing with distraught people, but he didn’t know how to handle someone saying silly things. After a long pause, he had a good answer, “I guess the only thing we could do is wash it.”
The tension was broken when we all laughed. I asked, “Are you having a funeral this afternoon?”
Yes, there would be a viewing in half an hour, with the service an hour later. He was keeping an eye on activity in his parking lot, especially one that was not related to a human dying. It would be unseemly to have stranded motorists whooping it up as mourners gathered for a funeral. I said neighbors were coming to pick us up, after which he said we could come inside and use the restrooms. We thanked him as the tow truck pulled the car on its back. I told the boys that they were an asset. Having at least two people in their Sunday best made our presence more acceptable.
John watches to dead car being loaded
We settled on benches to wait.
They look serious enough for a funeral, don’t they?
Before long Marla was there, hopping out of the car to help us in. Being rescued was great, but having cheerful rescuers was far more than I requested. We were very grateful and enjoyed chatting with them on the way home.
I have praised all our neighbors before, but I need to say more. We have THE BEST!
Kate took a nap after work and set out driving from her home in New Jersey around 6 p.m. She arrived here at 10 the next morning. She got her driving gene from John, not me. The trek included several rest stops and an hour’s nap. One frightening event was dodging a deer on the interstate at 3 a.m. Thankfully, all the cars around her threw on their brakes at the same time, and no one was hurt. Kate heard a thump and wondered if the deer had kicked her front bumper. There was no mark on the car to indicate that it did.
She jumped right into visiting with us and her sons. One of the boys mentioned a jigsaw puzzle. We removed the last ones we had worked and dumped out pieces of another box we bought in New York a couple of weeks ago. We knew what to expect this time. The label said the box contained two puzzles that were factory-sealed, so that no pieces would be missing. Each had 240 pieces. What the label didn’t say was that all 480 pieces were jumbled together. With three of us working and one taking photos, we had the edges put together in an hour. David worked on them before going to work, and Kate finished them later. I didn’t ask if they followed our precedent. John does not enjoy jigsaws, so we usually let him put in the last piece for token participation in this family event.
David, Kate, and Nathaniel working double jigsaw puzzles
It took two years, but we finally got together with Cornelius and his wife. I worked with him in New York, both before and after he became a partner in the accounting firm where I was the secretary. We hardly saw each other after he moved to the New Jersey office. I was aware that he and his wife Susan visited her parents in a town close to us here in North Carolina. They came this year to visit them and made time to have lunch with us. I enjoyed catching up with them and seeing pictures of their children.
For the foodies: We had beef in a blanket (ground beef baked in pie pastry), mushroom gravy, cantaloupe, neighbor Connie’s recipe for grape salad, and frozen lemon pie.
It was a total surprise to me that our home might be featured on a house tour. I heard the vehicle on the street, and then it seemed to be circling around the side. I saw it from the back porch and ran to the deck at the side of the house. There it was! The driver seemed very familiar, and I knew the voice of the tour guide. I took a quick photo of the outfit as it drove around the edge of the property.
The driver was none other than neighbor Bob, and he pulled up with a flourish below the deck. Normally that would have accommodated tourists wanting to photograph the house, but he paused for me to record the event. Logan was the tour guide for his nephew Sufi. Bob acknowledged me; Logan waved, and Sufi studied the house intently. He was not ready to commit himself to approval without further scrutiny. Bob’s Tours had made its first historic stop.
If any of you want to book a tour, please let me know. Rates are competitive, and I can guarantee you an excellent discount.
John’s subway-riding buddy Ron and his wife Kathy stayed with us a couple of days on their loop around the US. Ron and John went to a Lutheran high school in the Bronx for three years together. On some Saturdays they would meet underground and ride the New York City subway system for the sheer joy of it. I remember John’s saying they could ride for hours without having to pay another fare, because they knew where the transfer points were. We last saw them at their home in Arizona in 2015.
Our neighborhood Fourth of July party went ahead as planned with 14 of us around the table. It was too hot to be on the porch this year. We ran out of chairs and asked David and Nathaniel to sit on stools.
Ron offered to play checkers with neighbor Logan (8), and the boy was delighted to have a new opponent. Logan won the first game and Ron the second.
This was another good year in the ‘hood for fireworks. There were two households further up the mountain shooting off beautiful fireworks for almost two hours. The free show began about 9 pm, just after John left to pick Nathaniel up from work. Nathaniel thought he and Grandpa might watch the fireworks in Maggie Valley as they did last year, but John said they’d better get home. They came home to the local celebration up the mountain. We laughed and teased Nathaniel that after every long pause he said that must be the end. A few minutes later another shower of light went up. After we went inside for dessert, we heard a few more explosions.
I snagged everyone for a group photo before Ron and Kathy left. We were by no means talked out, but they had many other people to visit.
Sometimes the camera is out when a silly moment happens. The fellows were teasing each other and ended in a group hug.
I resisted taking a photo of our son John $ as he told a bear story. He is allergic to the front side of cameras. When I do take his picture, he doesn’t complain, but I know he prefers not to be recorded. That evening he was stretched out on a sofa and told us about a hike a few days before. There is something about the way he tells a story that commands attention. Hiking on a little-used trail, he and a bear surprised each other. Since he was alone, he wasn’t making much noise. He spotted the bear climbing up a tree about the same time the bear saw him. They parted amicably. Further up the trail, he startled two bears digging for grubs under rotting logs. He said it was highly unusual for two grown bears to be together. He wondered if they were two-year-olds cast off by their mother but still used to being together. One scampered off, but the other started toward him. You need to think quickly in a situation like that. $ made noise and sauntered back the way he came, diffusing the situation. Our son is not accident prone, but dangerous things happen to him all the time.
I wish I could take credit for $’s self-sufficiency. Just before we all went to bed, $ asked if he could have the air mattress. He lugged it from our closet to the living room, set it up himself, knew where to find a pillow, and was soon settled in. The next morning, when I looked in the living room, there was nothing in the middle space. He had already stowed away the air mattress and put the sheets in the laundry room. That’s as close as we come to having an instant guest. We didn’t even have to stir in water.
Our drive from Maryland to North Carolina was pleasantly uneventful until we were 20 miles from home. Traffic came to a halt in the gorge, and we sat there for one and a half hours. There was a long stretch with no exits, leaving us no alternative. The attraction of the moment was the rising of the moon. When we finally moved, we passed an 18-wheeler on a tow truck headed in the wrong direction. It was a strange sight. The four-lane interstate was squeezed by mountains on both sides with a concrete Jersey barrier down the middle. Perhaps the road was closed again later to allow that rig to escape.
Darkness on the left is the empty interstate going the other way.
Needless to say, we dragged ourselves into the house, carrying as much as possible. Nathaniel clapped his hats on my head for an easy ride in.
After the car was unpacked, Nathaniel performed his mirror ritual. His summer has officially begun. [Every time he comes to stay, he moves the mirror to the hanger where the former owners hung a clock. He is the only one who can use it easily, although David can see himself on tiptoe.]
A couple of days later, a cloud invited itself to dinner on our porch. It shied away at the last moment.
Catherine and Lars (niece and nephew) invited us to their place to see an old chair John had given to Lars. Lars had it reupholstered, and it was lovely. When our grandchildren were young, John would sit in the chair and hold them to watch train videos. Good posture was not possible in that put-you-to-sleep chair. It was almost guaranteed to knock you out in 15 minutes. I took a turn sitting in it, but I got up before sleep overcame me.
John’s sister Barbara and Thom were there, too. Barbara took her grandson Thomas out to swing. Nathaniel went out shortly afterwards and was soon swinging the four-year-old. I stepped outside to text grandson David who was sick as a dog back at our house. I told him where to find medicine and how to make Jell-o. I overheard Nathaniel ask Thomas what he liked to do. The boy replied, and then he asked Nathaniel the same question. Nate answered that he liked to bake and said he’d make Thomas a cake or some cookies the next time they were together. This shy little boy was having a real conversation! I was amazed. There was give and take, with questions asked and answered. I know teenagers who can’t do that!!! The two stayed outside most of the time we were there.
Inside, Lars showed us the illustrated manuscript he did. He assigned his students a project of doing an illustrated page, giving them three months to finish. He wanted them to know first-hand how time-consuming it was. How long did it take for him to finish the big one? One whole year! Catherine had it framed for him as a gift. Lars has been interested in history almost all his life. [He has published four books: Lost to the West: The Forgotten Byzantine Empire, The Normans: From Raiders to Kings, The Sea Wolves: A History of the Vikings,and In Distant Lands: A Short History of the Crusades.]
Before we left, I asked for a group picture. Barbara and Thom posed with Lars and Catherine. Barbara is holding Ellertsen, the baby whose christening we missed. We nabbed Nathaniel from the swing set and continued our drive back to North Carolina.
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 