“I Lost Two Teeth!”

Don’t worry. The title quote is not mine. If I had lost two teeth, my bank account would be hurting more than my mouth.

We walk by sun time, not by the clock, trying to be out at dawn and home before the sun heats up. At this time of year, we often see neighbor Bob driving Logan (6) to the bus stop. We caught up to them as Bob parked at the stop sign. Logan was in the back of the car, and as Bob rolled the window down, the boy’s head went down with it. He was teasing by hiding from us. His great news overcame the teasing mode as he announced, “I lost two teeth!’

May I take a picture?” I asked.

No,” replied Logan gently as he ducked his head. His dad told him to pose for me, which he did graciously. With children you often have one shot, and that’s all you’re going to get. Bob and Logan passed on this one, so the photo moment was declared a success.

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Death by Dust Bunny

I witnessed a death caused by dust. In truth, I had a hand in it.

Since we moved to the mountains of North Carolina, we have had seasonal infestations of bugs that look like ladybugs. Most people know that real ladybugs are prized in the garden, but our intruders are not. In the house, mostly in our bedroom, we have Asian lady beetles. The photo came from PestSupply on the internet. [Does that name strike you odd, as it did me? Who wants a supply of pests?] It seems our house is a target, since these beetles attack light-colored houses. Ours is tan.

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I have documented the dusting in this house, mainly because it doesn’t happen often and is noteworthy when it does. It’s true that one can be contaminated by walking through here, which is what happened to the unfortunate beetle. I spotted it on the bathroom floor, but then it was spotted to begin with. Following the normal procedure, I picked it up, intending to drown it in the toilet. That’s when I noticed its rear leg was caught in a dust bunny. It turned itself over in my hand and started crawling, dragging its baggage behind it. The little toy camera wanted to record this event, so I put the beetle on the counter. There has to be a way to set the camera for close-ups, but I couldn’t find it quickly. If I were put on trial, this fuzzy photo would be Exhibit A.

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Lady beetle dragging a dust bunny

After taking a dozen poor shots, I carried the bug to the toilet for a quick, watery death. Let this be a warning to all you lady beetles. 99% of you will not get a five-minute reprieve due to a dust bunny trap.

Laundry?

John asked a simple question over breakfast, “Do you need laundry done?”

 

You have it right – he does the laundry, and I am grateful.  It wasn’t always his job.  When we had three children at home and I was the stay-at-home mom, I did whites six times and colors two times a week.  That is not to say that we were squeaky clean.  Just walking through our undusted house could contaminate you.  He volunteered to do the wash when he had his office next to the laundry room, and I was working outside the home.  That slid into the era of necessity when I was recovering from having total knee replacements.  The “look Ma, no hands!” could not be applied to laundry baskets on stairs.  Well, it could, but there would have been bodily harm to someone.  We moved to a one-floor-fits-all house in the mountains, and he continued his clean act.  In return, I say thank you every time I find clean clothes laid on the bed, always folded or on hangers.  It is truly a blessing.  He’s a keeper.

 

John’s morning query made me wonder what drives other people’s laundry.  There are the questions of who does it? and what is the trigger?  Most people I know, including Facebook and WordPress friends, have some cleaning routine, otherwise I would have smelled you long ago.  Do you wash because the laundromat is empty at a particular time?  Perhaps you know you have to do this chore when you retrieve your socks from the floor and wear them ten days in a row.

 

I answered John’s question by saying I would look in the drawer and see how many pairs of jeans I had left.  I asked, “Why are you asking?  You have been washing exactly when I needed clean clothes.  What has changed?”

 

He replied, “I threw away some underwear and opened a new package.”

 

Ah!  The necessity marker had changed!

Passing a Bone Density Test

I was a bit late starting to have my bones scanned. The first two times the scans were done in New York where they were quite passive. All I did was lie comfortably on a table as the arm of the equipment passed over me.

Time went by as I became more aware of aging. Old folks’ magazines harped on balance, among other things. A few weeks ago I added a short routine to the dressing schedule – standing first on one foot and then the other for several seconds. That was harder than it used to be, especially on the side that didn’t recover well from a total knee replacement. Little did I know that this was going to be beneficial for the upcoming bone density scan.

The friendly technician filled out a form as she asked me questions about smoking, drinking, exercise and such. Then she threw me a curve. I was to stand up and balance on one foot. Ah! I had unknowingly been prepping for this! I knew I could do it. She didn’t specify which leg to use, so I chose the better one. She said, “Cross your arms and put a hand on each shoulder.” How bad could that be? Well, it wasn’t bad, but it was almost impossible to do. If I couldn’t balance, would they send me to the emergency room at the hospital next door? “Sending over unbalanced woman for immediate observation!” Panic set in. “Do it, Anne. Just do it!” It didn’t help that the woman’s lips moved as she counted. How far did she need to go? A minute? An hour??? Each time my other foot touched the floor, she began again at one – one potato, two potato, three potato. I wanted to tell her to give me a break and start with five the next time. I swear her potatoes got bigger and bigger. I thought of demanding a stopwatch that didn’t get slower with each successive count. Finally, before I fell over and damaged something in the room, she pronounced herself satisfied. We could have been there all day!

Days later my doctor’s office called to give me the results. I have yet to see any number associated with the scans, but this time there was a name attached. It’s not good when you slowly slide into named diseases! The advice was to keep taking calcium and Vitamin D and to keep walking. Of course, I’ll keep walking! I probably started running about 72 years ago. I didn’t say that, knowing she meant walking as exercise. A morning walk of at least half an hour was my norm for the last 22 years. It was upped to an hour about six years ago.

Complacency might have been the correct label for my mental state. I was doing the right thing and would continue secretly working on balance. That was before I got blasted out of the water again. A smug article upped the ante. Can you guess what it suggested? It said to balance on one foot for a full minute, like when brushing your teeth!!! Golly Pete! If I can’t hold a pose with arms crossed, what is the likelihood I could do it while brushing my teeth as thoroughly as you are supposed to do? I challenge you to give it a try and let me know how well you do. Don’t fall. Knocking your teeth out while trying to balance is not recommended.

Nerf Warfare and Time with David

Neighbor Logan begged to play with David, telling his dad it was the last day our grandson would be here. As it turned out, it was the last chance Logan had to be with him, because we were out the next two afternoons. The house was totally quiet for a few moments, then there were shrieks and a barrage of gunfire. These two cycles were repeated endlessly. Logan helped pick up the bullets before he went home, yet we were still finding them in odd places for days. You’d think all that hubbub would disturb us old geezers, but we loved it.

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We spent half a day at the Biltmore mansion, always a pleasurable outing for us. David sees more movies than we do, and he particularly enjoyed seeing the costumes on display. Books that the staff knew George Vanderbilt had read were on display, along with costumes from recent movies of those novels. We had one photograph of David taken near the entrance.

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Because we had trouble with the car at the last visit, David did not see the greenhouse and garden shop. He loved all the orchids and borrowed my camera to take a photo of the bluest one he could find. In the shop, I lingered beside each water fountain until the fellows pulled me away with the promise of lunch at the Moose Cafe.

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Another day I stepped outside to look at the daffodils and was surprised at how warm it was. While I talked to plants that were about to bloom, David began cleaning oak leaves out of the pool.

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I was happy that both Nathaniel and David had one lunch on the porch. As I’m writing this, snow is falling outside my window as a teaser. It isn’t likely to stick until the middle of the night.

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The day David was leaving, I asked him to pose for one closeup of his face. I needed one of each grandson to use as a desktop until they come back.

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Fondue!

When grandson David was 10 years old, he was already wearing braces on his teeth. He meticulously followed instructions, never chewing gum or eating hard candy. That year he was with us on our vacation as we visited our daughter Lise. We bought him a tiny wax bottle that had sweet liquid inside, never thinking it would harm him. In an instant, things were hanging loose and flapping about in his mouth. He was wearing a Herbst appliance that had rods connecting the upper and lower jaws. One of the rods had come undone, and it was most uncomfortable. We contacted his orthodontist in New York who referred him to a dentist in North Carolina. The appliance was repaired the next day. We were very proud of David for handling this crisis so well. Aunt Lise made an offer he couldn’t resist. She said as a reward she’d take him out to eat at the restaurant of his choice. She expected him to say McDonald’s or Burger King. What popped out of his mouth was, “Melting Pot! Can we go to the Melting Pot?”

There was a vast difference in price between fast food and a meal at the special fondue restaurant, but she stuck with her bargain. It has been part of our family lore ever since.

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David (10) and Lise at the Melting Pot in Charlotte  2005

Several weeks ago I was looking for something and opened a door in the old family secretary. There was our fondue pot! I thought it had been moved here and was very happy to find it before David’s visit. Does anyone remember when fondue was all the rage? It must have been in the late 60s or early 70s. We had not used that set since then. I looked on the internet for recipes and jotted down some ingredients from two of them. Meanwhile, David wanted to know what we were going to use the French bread for. I led him to the living room and opened the door with a flourish. His face lit up when he saw the pot and the long forks.

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David ready to begin our fondue

We thought it tasted pretty good.  Special thanks to grandson Nathaniel and his dad for the kirsch I added to the cheese mixture. Nathaniel left the bottle here after using it in making the Black Forest Cake. Thanks to daughter Lise who rekindled our interest in fondue. We will do this again.

David on the Move

Grandson David had been here less than 24 hours when neighbor Logan came over to play. Going outside to kick around a soccer ball was good for both young men. Logan always has excess energy, and David had sat for hours on the long trip down from New York.

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I brought out the battered airplane that neighbor Dawn picked out of the evergreen trees last week. It had been a favorite before the tree grabbed and hid it. David and Logan played with it for a while and then went back to the more intense ball kicking.

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As most college students do, David brought dirty clothes to wash here. He was flapping about in the den, finding the corners of a fitted sheet to fold it. A still photo doesn’t do it justice, because as he moved, he looked like a flying angel.

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I was most impressed with that sheet when he finished. It was so perfectly flat that it looked like it had just been unwrapped from the store. I wouldn’t let my sheets see it, because they would have been jealous.

The Friar Came to Stay

John and I were going to a funeral of someone grandson Nathaniel didn’t know. The service was in Sylva, so we dropped Nathaniel off in the main part of town while we went to it. He likes exploring towns on foot, wandering in any store that strikes his fancy. This is something he has done with his dad, as well as with us. He had seen everything he wanted to see when we picked him up. In one shop he had a nice conversation with a couple of people about an antique coffee grinder. He mentioned several other items as we drove home.

We must have been half way home when Nathaniel remembered seeing a cookie jar he thought we would have liked. When he described it, I almost began to drool. He had no way of knowing that I had been longing for a cookie jar to replace our old chipped one. Did he remember where he saw it? Yes, it was in the consignment shop next to the music store, halfway back on the right. We had gone too far to turn back, and the two fellows were driving to New York the very next day. There was no use being disappointed about something I’d never seen, so I let it go.

The day after John returned from that 1,600-mile drive, he asked, “Would you like to go back to look for the cookie jar?”

If that isn’t true love, I don’t know what is!

That’s the story of how the friar came to live at our house. Judging by his expression, I think he likes his new home. If I can keep his tummy filled without lifting the lid to help myself, I’ll have it made.

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Thank You

To all of you who follow me, thank you. It makes my day to know you’ve read a post and liked or commented on it.

To those bloggers I follow, thank you for your patience. Over the last several weeks I gradually realized I hadn’t heard from some who had been posting regularly. When one commented on something of mine, I saw there were published posts I had not seen. That was strange. Why had I not been notified via email? That’s when I discovered about 20 of you had become disengaged. I don’t know how that happened, because I had not yet found the manage area of Reader. I think I am now reconnected and look forward to reading and responding to your posts again.

Following was my solution to the problem:

At the top left of my blog, I clicked Reader and then Manage. The bloggers I follow appeared. Clicking on the arrow to the left of the first one, I saw “Emails for new posts”. On the right side of the page, the button was set to off. No wonder I hadn’t been getting notifications! I went through the whole list, checking each name and clicking the offs to ons. Some people who were blocked were recent additions, and others were ones I had followed for a year or two.

Crepes!

Chef Nathaniel cooked his last meal here – cookie dough crepes for breakfast. He said he looked at a standard recipe for cookies and melded it with his crepe recipe.

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Our grandson has unlimited patience when cooking, a trait I envy. He buttered the pan, poured the batter, swirled it quickly to cover the bottom, and placed chocolate chips by hand. When the crepe was cooked, he folded it in half by pulling one edge over with his bare hand! He folded it in half again with his hand and only then used the spatula to put it in the dish.

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He put the dish in the oven to keep the crepes warm until we were ready to eat. Being a simple homemaker, I would have put the dish on the table. Not the chef! He plated the crepes and drizzled chocolate sauce on top, shown in the first photo. I haven’t decided yet if they were as good as they looked or better. I think I’ll rate them much better.

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We did other things during the week that I didn’t write about. The most important for Nathaniel was touring the campus of Johnson and Wales University in downtown Charlotte. He made the appointment himself, planning this trip with GP (Grandpa), and had the enthusiastic approval of his culinary arts teacher. For his junior year in high school, he has academic classes in the morning and vocational training in the afternoon. The woman at the university went over his academic record, recommending subjects for him to take next year. She discussed steps for applying to the school and getting financial aid. Both John and Nathaniel were impressed with the campus. Being in an urban setting, it was more vertical than horizontal. About half the students are there for culinary arts. The dorm rooms seemed spacious compared to David’s at Concordia, and the kitchens were impressive. They saw students cooking thick, juicy streaks and were given samples of candy being made in another kitchen.

While the fellows were Johnson and Waling, I spent several hours with former neighbor Amy. Amy left the house next door and moved to Charlotte to be near her daughter and grandchildren. I hadn’t seen her since she moved eight months ago. She looked younger than before! She talked happily about her new friends in the neighborhood, connecting with a high school classmate, getting roped into reunion activities, and enjoying her relatives. Her condo renovations and decorations were finished, and the place was fantastic. She has more floor space now than she did in the log house next door to us.

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We spent a day at Biltmore, the largest private home in the United States built by George Vanderbilt. The family has not lived there since the 50s, but it is kept up meticulously, with cut flowers in many of the rooms on the tour. There was one thing in the gift shop that really appealed to Nathaniel. He wears a suit to school almost every day, so formal clothing is a real interest for him. He tried on the top hat and would have bought it if he had the tuxedo and money to match.

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