Daughters Come and Go

Daughters Kate and Lise were together one evening. Kate and I picked Lise up at the airport, and the next day Kate drove back to New Jersey. The full story is below.

The last few days of Kate’s visit were busy as she helped me clean up outside. She used a small rake to remove leaves from the waterfall pools.

David came to stay a few days to lengthen the time he could see his mother. He walked with us to the stop sign one morning and made cookie dough in the evening. Kate and I benefited when he gave us hot chocolate chip cookies straight from the oven the next night. Most of the cookies were entered in the store baking contest.

Kate and David spent all one day burning the huge leaf pile. I was the cheering squad and brought fruit snacks out to them. What a relief it was to have that awful pile gone before winter! David continued tending the fire after we left for the airport.

Getting Lise was the easiest airport run I’ve ever had. Kate and I stopped to get gas before going, and Lise let us know her plane had landed as we approached the airport. We sat only a few minutes before she let us know she was on the curb. We went straight to Culver’s for a sandwich and frozen custard before driving home.

There was time for a quick visit before we went to bed, and we had a hasty birthday celebration for them with lemon cake Lise brought from Denmark for breakfast. (The girls’ birthdays are one day apart.) What a glorious overlap that was! Kate made it home in 13 hours.

Kate’s Extra Visit

Daughter Kate was able to come a third time this year, and she drove down the day before her birthday. It’s a brutal drive to do in one day. After a good night’s sleep, she was ready to celebrate. I prepared salmon and a baked potato for our main meal.

We talked non-stop but paused to have cake that evening. If you look closely, you might be able to see that it was only half a cake, sold that way in the supermarket. It was perfect for us, lasting three days.

The next day was devoted to burning leaves. The lawn people had blown all the leaves onto the burn pile, and it was much too large to be left that way. Kate was all for burning the whole pile, but I was afraid it would take too long and hurt the lawn.

Kate did it my way, using the burn barrel. We were out there from 10 in the morning until after 4 in the afternoon. Kate got a really hot fire going and burned about a third of the pile. I’ll admit I was wrong. It probably would not have taken as long to do all the leaves at the same time. About half way through, I went inside to make us a picnic lunch, since we wouldn’t leave the fire unattended.

A final photo shows Kate still smiling. She had burned about a third of the leaves.

Neighbor to the Rescue!

I was aware that something was making a sound that repeated at regular intervals. Walking around the bedrooms, I stood under a smoke alarm as it chirped. Thankfully, I couldn’t really hear it from my bedroom without hearing aids. What a plus!

I had already bought the batteries for the 5 alarms in the house and had asked daughter Lise and friend Toke if they would replace them for me in the middle of the month. I couldn’t remember when David last changed one in the middle of the night. It could have been one year or two. There are ads every year to change these batteries when the clocks change, and I have now decided that would be a good idea. Meanwhile, I couldn’t wait two weeks with that racket going on. I fetched the ladder from the garage and had a new battery on it.

Seeing Jeff come home on his motorcycle next door, I texted him to see if he could change one. He was here in two minutes. He let me watch the process, which was very easy. He simply opened a little door, replaced the battery, and closed it. On his way out, he reached an alarm in the hallway and could have replaced that one without a ladder! He is quite tall, so that wouldn’t work for the rest of us. Daughter Kate is driving here today, so she and I will change any battery that chirps, otherwise I’ll wait for Toke. I keep writing that I have the best neighbors in the world, and this is another tale to prove it. How thankful I am to live among these people!

I Voted

I always try to run two errands when using the car, so I dropped the trash off at the “convenience center” before going to vote. It’s a good thing I did, because one bag reeked. I did not want to be identified, rightly or wrongly, as one of those garbage voters.

Joyce had voted days ago, and she mentioned having used a machine. I haven’t voted that way since we left New York. My surprise at the polling place was not the way of voting, but the venue itself. I started walking into the firehouse, and a man who was helping direct traffic called out to me. The firehouse has not been renovated yet after being flooded in the hurricane. I was to vote in a tent with a hard roof. The sides were cloth, hung from the top like a shower curtain. Inside, computers replaced the old voting ledgers. I signed a paper printed with my voter information and was given a paper ballot. There were about six people ahead of me.

Voting, then, was like always here. Standing at a tall stand with a cardboard shield around it, I filled in circles beside the names of people I was voting for. When finished, I took the ballot and fed it into a machine. A voting helper handed me a tiny sticker that said I voted.

I meant to put the sticker on when I got to the car, but people were waiting for my parking space. I went home, forgetting to pick up the sticker. I took my photo, anyway, complete with red, white, and blue star earrings. It’s my official statement that I voted.

Changing Clocks

This year changing clocks was easier than ever, mainly because there was no one else around. At 10 p.m. I stopped the two pendulum clocks and set an alarm an hour later to restart them (It’s bad for the clock to turn the hands back manually.) I was surprised at the ones I had to change besides the ones on the stove and an electric alarm clock. There were two indoor/outdoor thermometers and a lamp. I never look at the thermometers for time, but they keep track of temp history. I don’t look at that, either. The lamp has a lighted strip that shows the date, time, and indoor temperature. Thank heavens all the electronic things change themselves. It is now just after noon here, and I’m wondering which clocks were set with 24-hour time. I’ll know shortly.

There was one glitch with the clock that was on John’s computer desk. I couldn’t get the hour number to change. The solution? I turned its face to the wall. From time to time I’ll try again, and eventually it will say the right time and will face the room again.

If any government agency spies on blog posts, I’ll declare here that I don’t want the clocks to change ever again. It’s my understanding that the majority of Americans have the same view. Pay attention and do something about it!!

Gambling on Milk

I don’t remember numbers well, so I can’t say for sure how much a half gallon of milk cost two days ago. I think it was about $3. A hand-lettered sign on the door of the milk section said a half gallon of 2% milk was $1!! Curious, I looked at the sell-by date. It was the next day! No wonder it was so cheap! I debated with myself whether to take a chance on it or not. Miser Me won out, and I put it in the cart. If it begins to turn, I’ll quickly use it in cooking.

Courthouse, Graveyards, and Fish

Like many southern towns, Ripley is anchored by the county courthouse, surrounded by a square with shops and offices. We were amused that the lawns were peopled by goblins and ghosts for Halloween.

Before leaving town, we went to the cemetery. I think Beth’s shadow is on the stone for my parents, and Bob’s is on Grandmother and Granddaddy’s. Grandparents were 89 and 85 when they died, so the stats favor us to live a few more years.

Bob posed with the stones for Mamaw (mother’s mother) and Uncle Bill. She lived till she was 88 or 89, long out-living her husband who died of a burst gall bladder when Mom was 4 years old.

The last gravestone we visited was in Middle Tennessee – a military cemetery where Beth’s first husband was buried.

We stopped to stretch our legs at David’s rest stop. I call it that because on our first trip with our grandson, we stopped here, and 3-year-old David rolled down the steep hill several times, laughing all the way. I’ll show you the art – something that looks like a sail surrounded by markers for each county. I was standing near our county, and Bob was probably among the middle Tennessee markers.

Catfish is a big thing in Tennessee, and we ate heaping plates of it the last night on the road. I hope I asked Bob and Beth how they slept after it. That meal could have caused major indigestion and heartburn. If I had either, I slept right through it.

The final driving day was glorious, with fall colors at the peak of the season. We couldn’t have asked for better weather or colors of leaves. Being with favorite people is such a joy, and I reveled in every moment.

The Boy Across the Street

We had a wonderful visit with Tom in our hometown. He grew up in the house across the street, so very handy for good friends. I knew he and brother Bob were the same age, but I didn’t realize until Beth mentioned it that they were born only three days apart! The fellows were in and out of each other’s houses all their growing up years. Being two years younger, I was with them occasionally, not daily.

We were sorry Tom’s wife Judy was out of town. She prepared snacks for us that were scrumptious, and we helped ourselves generously. I wish I had taken a photo of the outlay. Her Brownies were the best I’ve ever tasted.

As older people do, we compared notes on aging. It was a catching up, not a complaint session. I didn’t think about it until later, but we did not dwell on the past. Beth would have listened willingly if we recounted events of long ago, but we stayed in the present. If there had been a lull in the conversation, I might have asked about others in our age group who stayed or returned to our town. There wasn’t time!

I was looking for some photos this morning and came across this one of Tom, taken approximately 66 years ago! I don’t know when or where I got it, nor where it has been all this time. I must have scanned it years ago.

All of us have lived rich, full lives. Without asking, I can confidently say we are grateful to God for the opportunities that we were given and the people who helped make us who we are today. All glory to God!

Riding Through the Past

As brother Bob, wife Beth, and I approached our home town, I noticed cotton in the fields. At first I thought there were just remnants of cotton, but Bob said it hadn’t been picked yet. He knew that farmers often spray the fields with a defoliant to get the leaves out of the way. The cotton is then much, much cleaner when the machine picks it. When we were children, small country schools had cotton pickin’ time with no school for a few weeks so that students could pick cotton. We were townies, so we didn’t get that time off.

Bob owns a farm in the bottom (area near the Mississippi River), and we drove down gravel roads to see the man who rents the land. He lives on his adjoining farm. He offered to drive us over Bob’s land in his big pickup truck. My ears were delighted to spend time with him, because he has a true Southern accent with a country twist. He is educated and smart, but his speech is different from mine. His words and the way he puts them together would not sound right coming from me. Beth had already gotten in the back seat, and as I was going to the other side he said, “See that flat (tire)? I kin air it up right quick.”

He did “air it up” by pulling a pump over and hooking it up. It seemed just a minute or so until we were driving off. We noticed other scruffy looking trucks not in the car port and assumed they were his working farm trucks. He drove on the road for a bit and then turned right into a field and kept going. We passed a big tree, and he told us it was our dad’s favorite pecan tree. Bob and I remember picking up pecans there when we were children. He drove us around all the land he had cultivated, pointing out a low spot that was too wet to plow. Beth had seen a video his wife posted on Facebook, and she knew he had finished getting in the soy beans just a day or so before.

As we walked toward our car, I asked if I could take his photo with Bob and Beth. He readily agreed, then asked if I’d take the same thing with his phone. I thought, for once, someone didn’t object!

We drove into town and went into Walmart where his wife works. Bob called her, and she rushed out to meet us. She was laughing and said she would have recognized Bob and Beth because her husband had sent the photo to her. We had a lovely chat before leaving. It was wonderful to talk to people new to me who have the same values I do.

I did not post the photos with people’s faces, because I did not get their permission. More than likely they would have said yes. I apologize. You should have been able to see these wonderful people.

A Nostalgic Trip

Brother Bob and wife Beth invited me to go along with them to West Tennessee where they were seeing several people. Since the recent hurricane destroyed the interstate in several places, we took back roads through the mountains. Bob took a photo of Beth and me at an overlook.

The trees were gorgeous, and we recorded and drank in their beauty.

We were still smiling at the end of the day. I tended to take photos when we ate, where I could see my companion’s faces.

We had barbecue the next two days, first outside Memphis.

The second time was in Memphis, not far from where Bob and I went to college.

Disregard the pickle in the photo. I don’t think it belongs, no matter how much you like pickles. Memphis supposedly has the best pulled pork sandwiches in the mid-South.

The college campus is beautiful. I took a photo of the building that had been the library when I was there. Now a tree photo-bombs it.

The first tower was built and dedicated while I was a student in the early 60’s. It shows up better from a distance where the trees don’t dominate it.

Sixty years after graduating, I didn’t see many things in Memphis that looked familiar. We didn’t linger, but headed to the town where Bob and I grew up.