As you might guess, my unwelcome visitor was not a human being. It was our harbinger of Spring, Mr. Robin. We’ve seen many robins the last few days, and I accepted them peacefully at first. From another room I heard thumping and checked the front door to see if a neighbor was there. No one was on the porch. The next series of thumps led me to the sliding glass doors. A filthy robin was hurling itself against the glass, leaving watery poop oozing down. I did NOT take a photo, but I did wash the doors immediately when it was one degree below freezing. There are eleven splatters of poop below the glass, so I’ll be taking a giant step forward when I go outside. I’d love to flash that bird with a huge picture of an owl, or whatever else would frighten him. Nasty bird!
I have a new system for catching up on blog-reading. My choice is always to be with living people over recorded messages. Blogs will wait patiently until I am alone. I chose to spend every possible moment with our friends Karen and Al, who were here only 62 hours. John delivered them to their home after a sleepless 13 hours of driving. It’s good that John didn’t sleep, but they stayed awake through the night, too.
It would have been discouraging to count the posts, so I scrolled down to the last one I read. My new system is to read five posts each time I change activities. I needed a plan to keep track of those read. For the record, I can still count to five, but I can’t remember which number I’m on if I wait three minutes between numbers. This sounds like the beginning of a dratted story-problem, doesn’t it? Relax, it isn’t. Scattered about my messy desk were five items. I put them to the left of the keyboard, moving one to the right each time I finished reading a post.
It has been fun to use these little dust-catchers mementos. The train and rabbit came from our trip to Colorado. I bought the polished stone in Dillsboro NC and picked up the free toy army figure at a pottery in Tennessee. The fighter is to remind me to pray for our military people. The marble belonged to my dad. I have no idea how it landed here, but it can’t be contained easily – just like him when he was alive.
I told people we had one day to visit with our friends Karen and Al. They traveled with John on his ferrying missions between visits of grandsons Nathaniel and David. They arrived in the wee hours, relaxed the next day, and headed back to New York mid-afternoon of the third day. What a whirlwind! Our one full day began at the breakfast table.
Red slices on the plates are blood oranges.
They had angel biscuits the last time they visited, but this time the bread was made with White Lily flour. I doubt I’ve ever made lighter or fluffier biscuits. Perhaps the real test would have been comparing regular biscuits the day before with the yeast biscuits this day.
Knowing Karen knits all the time, I pushed a trip to the nearest yarn shop. When other alternatives were presented, her eyes lit up at the mention of a thrift shop. I was eager to share the one Nathaniel and I went to. We left John at his computer and Al smoking a cigar on the porch. On the way to town, Karen mentioned that she would look for a sewing machine. It sounded impossible, but that was one thing she would like to have for repairing things at home. We poked through all the displays of dishes, glasses, candle holders, small appliances, plumbing supplies, cookbooks, speakers, bake ware, and jewelry. I learned my lesson the last time, to not argue with myself about buying something that caught my eye. I loved two cordial glasses with angels on them and didn’t buy them. The next day Nathaniel went back with me to get them – a steal at $1 apiece! This time I picked up a cut glass cruet, a small mug with red hearts on it, and a 100-piece jigsaw for Logan.
Karen asked the wonderful volunteer behind the counter if they might possibly have a sewing machine.
“Oh, yes!” she said. “One came in yesterday, and its a really good one. Come with me.”
The woman picked up something I thought looked like a toaster. She put the tiny Elna sewing machine on the counter with a flourish, saying she knew it ran. Karen’s mind worked like lightning. It cost less than anything brand new she had seen on sale, and she would not drive down from New York if she didn’t buy it and changed her mind. The volunteer was shocked to be asked to pose with Karen in the shop. She said, “That’s a first!”
We came back home crowing about our finds. The machine worked, and Karen easily found the instruction manual on line.
Has anyone else had trouble finding good decaf coffee? Ingles discontinued Karen’s and my favorite chocolate-raspberry flavor. The fellows went with us to Smoky Mountain Coffee Roasters. I knew neighbor Connie bought decaf there, so we went with high hopes of finding something for them to take home. There were only two choices, and Karen took the Organic Peruvian Blend. My fingers are crossed that she will enjoy it.
Karen loves barbecue as much as I do, and the men were amenable to lunch at Haywood Smoke House. The restaurant has a rustic décor, although décor is too fancy a word to use in this context. When Al’s wine came in a jelly jar, I asked the men to pose while making a toast. A jelly jar, of all things!!! The food was solidly good, as always.
John asked if we wanted to go anywhere else, and Karen seconded my suggestion that we go up on the Blue Ridge Parkway. The rain clouds were low, but you never know if something beautiful will present itself. I hadn’t been up there since the beginning of December. We jumped out and took a photo of a distant waterfall. We could even hear its roar! Unfortunately, that was the ONLY view we had. The rest of that section was fog-bound. Every time something was not to our liking, we kept telling them they had to come back.
The last half day of their visit was low-key. Rain kept us from walking, so we talked instead. We ate chocolate chip-pecan coffeecake made with Angel biscuit dough for breakfast. Karen asked about the air fryer on the counter. When I found out she and Al would eat okra, I threw some frozen breaded okra in it to go with our left-overs for lunch. It was overcooked, but we ate it all, anyway. The acorn squash filled with apple was our vegetable/fruit/dessert. They needed to eat lightly, since they were soon going to have BBQ at the Due South restaurant in Christiansburg, VA.
Pushing back his chair, John said, “We’d better get going.”
“I don’t like those words,” I said.
Al suggested, “Come with us on that long ride.” He bounced up and down in his chair as if riding on a bus.
I applied the same response, “I don’t like those words.”
I hated to see them go, but we had a joyful visit, creating lots of lovely memories.
John’s aim was to get grandson Nathaniel back to Long Island in plenty of time to go to school Monday. He dropped him off at 3 in the morning. I wondered if Nate went to bed for two more hours or if he stayed awake and unpacked.
John slept a few hours before having breakfast with his sister Barbara and Thom. By noon he picked up our friends Karen and Al and began the long trek back to North Carolina. About 2 am Tuesday the three of them tiptoed in our house and went to bed without waking me. Despite the short night, Karen was already up and dressed when I came out to walk. John quickly put himself together, and we three went to the creek. The new camera is learning the drill, that the first walk of a visit should be recorded beside the stream.
Karen and Anne at the creek
Our activity of the day was walking Main Street in Waynesville. The fellows sat on a bench in the sun while we ducked into a cooking store, looking for a French butter tub. Theirs were expensive. Al spotted a sign for a bookstore in the next street, one we had never noticed before. The shop was crammed with books, nooks, and chairs. Al bought an item or so. Going back to Main Street, we looked in windows until we were almost back to our car. The men again sat outside while we went in Mast General. That store is a favorite of mine, and it was an instant hit with Karen. The wooden floors creaked with every step. We passed the clothing area and went straight downstairs for the butter tub. There were two styles, both less expensive than those in the kitchen store. That was an easy sale. On the way home, we pushed Al to go into a cigar store.
When we lived on Long Island, we celebrated Christmas with Karen and Al several days after the 25th. They always kindly said they liked our left-over menu. The food was fresh, but the menu repeated. We had that meal for old time’s sake. Chicken and stuffing was the main dish, with beans and a frozen cranberry salad on the side. The finale was a flamed Christmas pudding with brandy butter. What a delight it was to talk with them all day long!
I had almost finished cleaning the house when neighbor Logan (7) knocked on the door. We discussed things to do without coming to a meeting of the minds. His favorite game is checkers. I fell back on the slogan of my youth, “Just say no.” The saying applied to drugs back in the day, but I apply it to games of strategy. My brain never did work that way, and age did not improve it. We watched a TV show together for half an hour and came back to the old question of what to do next. He spied the balloon left in the living room a few days ago. We played with it until it landed on the plants. As Logan put his hands on it, the balloon blew up in his face, startling both of us.
“I’ll pick up the pieces. Do you want to get another balloon?” I asked. He ran to the closet, picking another blue one. It took me about ten times longer to tie a knot in it than the amount of time Logan spent blowing it up. I used to be able to do that easily. It could have something to do with the amount of saliva on it. Does anyone have a good suggestion for sealing a slobbery balloon? The answer is not to do the blowing myself, because Logan loves to do it.
We batted the balloon back and forth, trying to keep it from landing on the floor. When Logan tired of that, we just sat and talked. I have never understood more than half of what he said, so this time I explained that I didn’t hear well. I said I needed for him to face me so I could see his lips, and I needed him to speak louder. It worked like a charm!!! He wanted to communicate enough to make it work. I loved hearing him talk about this past weekend, especially the indoor water park.
With wide arm movements, he said, “I was on the TORNADO slide!!”
He also enjoyed arcade games and watching cartoons with other children in the group. When Bob came to get him, he told me a bit more about the activities. It seems it was a terrific weekend for all.
Neighbor cat Jasmine wandered into our yard while we were sitting on the front porch. We had walked her dog sisters (a description not approved by the cat) and sat down to enjoy the last bit of sunlight. Grandson Nathaniel is good with dogs, but he simply can’t resist a pretty cat. He went out to talk to her, sitting beside the tree to keep her company. I might have found it poignant, but he will be with his own cat in a matter of hours. His winter break lasted nine days, which felt more like 48 hours to me.
Sunday was different. We went to the early service so that John and Nathaniel could get an early start on the trip to Long Island. There was no Sunday School, so we went to the Buttered Biscuit for brunch. I’m not sure how the photo will look to you, but on my screen the table appears to be bent in the middle. Nathaniel is holding his plate, and maybe John is, too. If it had really been tilted, there would be no photographic evidence. I would have held onto my meal with one hand and wielded a fork with the other.
Nathaniel performed the ritual of the mirror just before he left. A flag flies over the palace when the Queen is in residence, and Nathaniel has a mirror on his level while he is here. I don’t have a status symbol like that. Do you? If you do, please send it ahead (with instructions) before you visit.
When I looked at the photos I took today, I noticed how Nathaniel’s shirt stole the show. He and I ran an errand in town, then walked along Richland Creek which runs through Waynesville. He jumped on the rocks near a tributary stream, stood beside a shallow area where it would be easy to wade, and agreed to pose at the overlook.
We had an exciting first for lunch. We went to a restaurant the very day it opened! Willie Brooks BBQ had been under construction for three months. It replaced a Mexican restaurant that son John $ and I went to once. Enough said. There had been a lot of activity the last few days, so John pulled in yesterday. A tiny sign said it would open the next day. The place was crawling with employees, all smiling and asking how we liked our food.
The afternoon’s activity was burning the Christmas tree, which had been lying in the burn pit. There is no ritual for this winter chore yet. Both Grandpa and grandson like to tend fires, so I called them pyromaniacs. They had smoky grins.
Grandson Nathaniel usually makes a cake when he visits. Last summer he made an Eclipse Cake for us the day we saw the total eclipse of the sun. He baked a Black Forest Cake at Christmas over a year ago, knowing it was one of John’s favorites.. I suspect he was guided in the same direction, because Grandpa told him he’d bought several jars of cherries. 24 hours after his arrival, he baked the three layers of chocolate cake. The following day he soaked the cake with cherry liqueur, and the third day he assembled the dessert.
The photos show the progress, starting with layers and whipped cream filling. He took breaks between each step, letting the cake chill. We were the lucky ones, getting to lick the bowls as he finished with them.
When the cake was finished, Nathaniel added a pink candle, announcing the cake was for us in honor of Valentine’s Day. It was absolutely delicious. Just so you know, we are eating it slowly, but it cannot be mailed.
Last summer I was reintroduced to MoonPies, a Southern favorite I hadn’t had since I was a child. MoonPies were invented in Chattanooga TN in1917. The story goes that a miner asked for a filling snack as big as the moon that would fit in his lunchbox, and the rest is history. We bought a box of them. Our grandsons were not impressed, and I have to admit, I thought the sweets had more chocolate taste years ago. The snack is a sandwich – two graham cookies with a marshmallow filling, coated with chocolate. The boys said Mallomars were much better.
We looked for Mallomars and discovered they are not produced during warm-weather months. Hot weather would melt the treats. At long last, I remembered to look and found Mallomars at our local supermarket. We also found a knock-off at Aldi, the German grocery chain. Now the contest was on. Would either of the sweets beat MoonPies? The answer was, yes, hands down! As soon as Nathaniel tasted the Aldi brand, he said MoonPies were out of the running. Tennessee, you lost.
Note: We ate lunch on the porch!
The next contest was between Mallomars and Aldi’s brand. According to the Mallomars box, they were invented by Nabisco in 1913 and sold in West Hoboken, NJ. They are still a Northern treat – 70% of all sales are made in the New York metropolitan area. I was glad our local market made the 30% cut. With no dramatic drum roll, we put one of each on our plates. Nathaniel and John made quick decisions in favor of Mallomars. They liked the darker chocolate coating. I held out for the Aldi’s brand for two reasons. The base cookie was chocolate, and it cost about half the amount of Mallomars. I knew I was a miser, but I had no idea miserliness could direct the taste buds. It will be interesting to see where David will cast his vote in a couple of weeks.
Neighbor Logan wanted to show us how he could pop up off the floor from a kneeling position without using his hands. I had seen grandson David rise up from a sitting position hands-free, but Logan’s stunt was entirely different. He seemed to concentrate all his strength, put his hands back, and leap up using the momentum from his arms.
He readily agreed to demonstrate this in front of the camera, not once, but twice! Surely this cannot be construed as being stalked with a camera.
Grandson Nathaniel is normally on an early schedule for school, so he was dressed and ready to go walking with us. I was glad the little cat came running out to greet us, because Nathaniel likes cats. She stayed with us half way to the stop sign, frequently stopping us to rub against our legs. When neighbor Bob stopped his car to speak to us, young Logan hopped out. He wanted to be with Nathaniel.
Father to son, “Are you going to run all the way to the bus?”
Logan was already dancing around Nathaniel, and the two of them began to walk.
Logan challenged our tall grandson, saying, “I can beat you!”
Nathaniel replied, “I’m not going to run, but I’ll walk.”
I fumbled getting the camera out and took a video as quickly as I could. Nathaniel had a fast pace, with Logan flapping along beside him. It wasn’t until I looked at the clip that I saw Marla in a green jacket standing with Albert. All the commotion on the road made Albert walk toward them. At the same time, Bob turned his gray car around and started back home.
All the walkers reached the bus stop. One of us wondered if there were school, because we never had President’s Day off. I missed the photo of the week – Logan’s face when he thought for a split second there might not be school for him. The bus came chugging up the hill, and Logan waited for the driver’s signal to cross the road. Albert pulled Marla away as we continued to the creek.
Quick-thinking John had his hand out for the camera when I mentioned posing with the rushing water. That’s the first time he has pulled that on me.
Nathaniel is more resigned to being in front of my camera, so I got two shots of him. In one he had just dipped his hand in the water to see how cold it was, and then he turned to climb back up the rocks.
After walking, we had practice biscuits for breakfast. Our biscuit-loving friends are coming next week, and I want to be ready. Recently I read again that soft flour is best for Southern biscuits, White Lily being the preferred brand. John is enthusiastic about this, because he prefers that I not use whole wheat flour. It’s only fair he should win once in a while, don’t you think?
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 