Getting Ahead of Myself

I was famous at school for doing assignments ahead of time. It worked well for me, the only advantage being that I didn’t stress about deadlines. In my old age, I began to slip. Gradually I became aware that I told myself to do a chore the next day and occasionally let it slip two or three days. Neighbor Joyce, being cold-natured, has been watching and commenting on the temperatures going lower. I knew that the houseplants needed to be brought inside soon, although a hard frost has not been forecast yet. Yesterday I told myself to take in the biggest plant, the one that had belonged to Uncle Walter. John always took good care of that one. I wouldn’t put pressure on myself to carry all the plants in, just that one. I did something else, then told myself to get the plants that had their own stands. Done. Before end of day, all the plants were inside. This morning I looked at the two thermometers and was shocked. The one on the deck at the side of the house said 42 degrees, and the one on the back porch said 35!! Wow! 35 is only three degrees warmer than freezing! The photo of Holly’s house shows what must be frost on the roof.

Plants cast long shadows, photo-bombed by porch rocker

I was annoyed that the yard men blew all the leaves on the back gravel path into the plants beside the house. I’m sure they wanted everything to look good and were probably told to clear walkways. Well, the leaves wouldn’t age well sitting there. They would get wet and become matted down. It would be much harder for me to move them next spring than now. Instead of putting it off, I raked the leaves out from the house, clearing the mint plants and uncovering the garden wagon and two buckets. I thought about it the next day and raked the mounds into a line about a third of the way to the burn area. If I don’t falter, the leaves will be at the burn pile tomorrow.

Leaves a third of the way to the burn pile

I am pleased that I did things ahead. If it brought enjoyment, I’d pat myself on the head and say what a good job I had done.

Seven Miles of Distress

After having my hearing aids cleaned, I went to the supermarket. I found they were taking cards after the hurricane, not just cash. I planned to text my neighbors and ask if they needed anything. My phone pocket was empty!! I walked back to the car, but no phone was inside or out. I could buy things and could prove I was a licensed driver, but I couldn’t contact anyone. I might as well get the batteries I needed, as well as some food. It was too early to panic, because the phone was probably at home. All kinds of batteries were in the store, but not the special ones I needed for the front door lock. That small rack was empty. Next, I went back to the hearing aid office to see if the phone had slipped out of my pocket into the seat. It hadn’t.

I walked through the house, told myself again not to panic, and faced-timed daughter Lise. She is the only one I could call with my iPad! She was very calm. We hung up so that she could call my phone, but all I heard was silence. She called again to make sure it wasn’t hiding in the car. I’m only now thinking that she could have looked at the Life360 app in Denmark and have seen where the phone was at 11:12 a.m. Live and learn!

It was a long seven miles back to the dump (officially known as a convenience center). I hadn’t checked there, because I was sure the phone was at home. I told the man on duty that I had lost my phone. He asked, “Is it pink?” I didn’t argue with him. A lavender phone with a pink name would be better than none. Someone had turned it in, and he fetched it from the shack. Whew! I could save my panic for another day!

Now that it’s beginning to be amusing, I wonder if he heard the train whistle ring tone at least three times – once from the hearing aid place and twice from Lise.

An Aid for Poor Hearers

Recently I had an email notice that the office for hearing aids was closed because of the hurricane. Lise surprised me by sending a note that it would be open for anyone today for a free cleaning. I was very glad I listened to her and drove to Waynesville for the first time since the storm. A teenager greeted me, asked what I was there for, and told me to put the hearing aids in a plastic cup. He took it to the back of the office, and then a woman came from there to the waiting room. I explained that I had gotten word from Europe to come, that my daughter lives in Denmark and had seen the offer on line. She was amazed that I hadn’t seen it myself, but had gotten word from across the ocean. I was surprised that the office was empty. I thought there would be lots of people there, especially since it was open to anyone with hearing aids, not just their customers. They even offered to replace batteries free!

A few minutes later she came back and asked if she could take my photo. The woman who was going to clean the aids posed with me. After the cleaning, they handed me a bag with supplies – clear plastic domes and tiny gizmos that keep earwax from harming the electronics. That would normally have cost me real money, but they gave it to me as part of their service! After I ate a donut they offered, I chatted with them a bit more. The receptionist lives in this area and couldn’t get to the office where she normally works in Asheville. She wanted to help people who had been through the hurricane and hit on the idea of free cleanings. I said it was marvelous that she found something to use her expertise. I said I was a musician and couldn’t think of a way to help. And what was my area? I said a retired church organist, and I don’t carry an organ around with me. We laughed.

Before I left, I asked to take their photo. I read their body language that declared they were mother and son. They were delightful. The woman said she was going to see if they could go to a nursing home to offer their services. Surely they would have takers there! As I was leaving, a man came in. I hope he was there for a cleaning. Such a generous offer should have had more takers.

Stair Landing Repair

Neighbors J and D were at my house for the last neighborhood party and noticed one board in the front landing was rotting. Today they came over and replaced it! They arrived with a board, a bag of tools, some power tools, and an extension cord. In jig time they were able to remove the board and replace it without disturbing any of the boards around it.

I told them their teamwork was amazing. I was also impressed at how easily J handled the tools. His comment was, “I learned it all from working with Bob. I never did any construction work before.”

J said they have a similar look at their house. They replaced half a step with treated wood and haven’t painted it. I declared I wouldn’t paint mine, either. This is the latest fashion on our street, and we are leading it proudly. I like seeing mine every time I go on the front porch, because it reminds me that I have the world’s best neighbors.

Sounds of Hurricanes

Perhaps all hurricanes have a distinctive sound, but I’m going to write about the difference between one in North Carolina and one in New York. There was obviously wind with both storms, but wind on Long Island was really loud. In NC the recent storm traveled over land for a great distance, and the wind was getting tired. It wasn’t very loud, although you could hear it at different levels – by the house and high on the ridge. Having an engorged stream raging behind the houses in NC was distinctive. There were undertones of water, but to me it sounded like two farm tractors with motors running.

I think, without exception, the weather after a hurricane in New York was glorious. The sun was strong in a bright blue sky. The distinctive sound of chainsaws was pervasive. On Long Island the trees were tall and thin, toothpick trees my dad used to call them. They would snap easily and always aimed to cause the most disruption by blocking roads.

The day after our recent storm, sounds were missing under gloomy skies. It was unnaturally quiet with no traffic on I-40. The road was closed because a bridge was out, and half the road had fallen into the Pigeon River at one point. On this street the silence demanded my attention. There was not a single chainsaw to be heard! Not one! I was not aware of any tree falling on this side of the mountain. Of course, I am very thankful the old oak tree stood its ground and dropped very few small branches.

I sit here writing about unimportant things, where only a mile away there is flood damage. Asheville was hard hit, and the number of deaths is still rising. If you pray, please include the people of Waynesville and Asheville. Thank you.

Insulated!

I realized two days after the hurricane that I had been cut off from the world. My walk to the stop sign hadn’t changed a bit, so life felt normal to me. The cell phone had done strange things for two days, but it righted itself. I tuned in to the church service on line and found only one man from Mississippi there with me. He and I wondered where everyone was. The tech who normally streams the service joined us. He said he didn’t know if anyone was at the church. The streaming program had started automatically. That’s when it hit me. My life had gone on after the storm, but time stopped in Asheville. Many were without power, and there was major damage everywhere near the French Broad River. The city had effectively shut down. From almost anywhere in the world, you could see more about Hurricane Helene than I could.

Shortly after the hurricane seemed to be over, Joyce texted to see if I wanted to walk to the two small streams that run under the road. I had always longed to see them during a storm, so this was perfect. We could see them without getting wet. David was driving down the street after work, and he jumped at the chance to go with us. He parked in front of Holly’s house, making her wonder who had abandoned a car and walked off.

David and Joyce with one Park Branch stream

The streams were impressive, rushing down the mountain with a roar. They were hurrying too much to flood anything on the way down.

Hurricane Helene

It felt as if we had weeks to dread Hurricane Helene. The weather service tracked it from nothing, to strong winds, and then the named stages of a tropical storm to a massive hurricane that slammed Florida. It was almost a relief when the clouds rolled through and we could get started with the North Carolina version of the storm. I have no idea how much rain we were to get or how strong the winds would be, and the ending totals varied as it progressed. I can tell you there was a LOT of rain and winds that seemed weak much of the time.

Grandson David and Brit were concerned about a tree falling on their house, so they asked for asylum on our street. David stayed here with their dog, and Brit was officially with her parents across the street. Most of the time she was at the fire house as a volunteer, actively helping rescue people from rising waters of the creek. Jonathan Creek, my former destination for walking, dumped up to a foot of mud in the firehouse itself. I live on the lower slope of a mountain and would never be in danger from that creek. Before a drop of rain fell, our neighbors were in a texting group as we geared up for the storm. As it turned out, I was the only one who needed help.

David took Beatrix for a final walk before bedtime. He didn’t know why she pulled so hard to get to bushes bordering the pasture to the side of the house. He soon found out. Skunk!! The skunk sprayed, mostly hitting David’s jacket. He rinsed and sprayed his clothes and left them on the porch to be thoroughly blown by the wind.

The storm was in full force when David got up at 4:45 a.m. to go to work. I was thankful he thought to let me know he got to Lowe’s safely. That’s about the time the county said no one should be on the road to have everything clear for emergency vehicles. At a reasonable hour, neighbor Shawn texted to see how I was getting along.

I replied, “I’ve made coffee. Things should look better in a few minutes. I’m very unprepared for this with a spooked dog, no dog food, no treats, and a house that reeks of skunk!!”

I told her I didn’t think the dog had been sprayed by the skunk. I was dealing with everything and thought it would be amusing by afternoon. She replied that Bob would come over to fetch Beatrix after the wind died down, which he did. I had petted her the night before, but she never let me near her after David went to work.

Shawn wrote that the windows on the north side of her house were leaking. (Mine didn’t.) She added that maybe now my house would smell better. Hers smelled like skunk. I apologized, because I couldn’t smell it on the dog. She wrote, “I’ve mixed up a solution for Bea – baking soda, hydrogen peroxide, and Dawn.”

Below is a video taken on the north side of my house through the glass of the door.

When David picked up the dog after work, Shawn and later Bob came over to visit for a while. Everything smelled better on the windblown porch. Their dog and Beatrix kept each other busy playing and nipping at each other. It seemed a fitting end to the hurricane.

We were blessed to have no damage on the street. Winds and floodwaters wreaked havoc in towns and near all the streams in the area.

A Praying Mantis

This isn’t about an insect. Rearrange the letters of the title – ’tis a praying man. Can you see him? Look across that driveway. He is wearing a bright blue shirt and is sitting with his elbows on his knees. I can’t see much else, but I think he has a mop of dark hair.

I have glanced at this scene for months through my bedroom window, and the man never moves. I’ve never seen anyone out there with him, either. Neighbor Logan’s pond is on the left. I tried to show it to someone who was visiting, but he/she didn’t see him. After all that time I aimed the camera at him. Finally! The camera saw the man, even though people didn’t. I am thrilled to have this photo of him so that I know I didn’t make him up.

Some day the man will change his position, probably when Shawn and Bob move the kayak. I’m guessing it’s their kayak. What else that blue would stay outside near water without fading or moving? If I find out it isn’t their little boat, I’ll update this post to say what it is and how much I miss the praying man.

The Horses are Back

Just a few days, ago neighbor Joyce said she had a feeling the horses would return soon. She has a better view of the rented pasture than I do, and she watches the animals more often. Every year the horses are gone for months at a time, and we miss them.

I was eating a late breakfast when DW and Vixen walked down the hill and went to the corner. The two horses in the next pasture came to greet them. There was no reason I couldn’t get in on the homecoming.

Going back to my meal, I watched them check out the corner closest to Joyce and me before walking again to the shared corner and up the hill. They certainly seemed happy to be back with lots of plants and grass to nibble on.

Vegetating

I have reached a new stage of old age – vegetating. Family members have somewhat resisted my serving fruits rather than vegetables. Some of them, like John before them, need a vegetable to make a meal complete. I certainly grew up that way, since we called my dad the Mad Farmer. My parents were FORCED to eat tons of vegetables, because he loved having a prolific garden with no fruit in sight. Mother never complained about canning and later freezing the things he grew. She was a miser, having gone through the depression with her brother and widowed mother. Mom’s mother told me that once she had only potatoes to feed her children, and she cried that night.

Today I began to feel hungry. As I walked toward the kitchen, I decided to have cauliflower with white sauce before considering what protein would follow. This is probably the very first time that any vegetable called my name and made me listen. I made the white sauce while the frozen cauliflower cooked in the microwave. Since I wasn’t cooking anything else at the time, it came together perfectly. There was just the right amount of salt and pepper, two things I didn’t use when John was eating with me. The food was piping hot when I set the dish on the table, and was still warm as I finished. Nothing could have been more perfect for me. With cooler weather on the horizon, I’ll try to hear the broccoli, beans, and peas when they call.