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.

Seeing Elk with Joyce

On a Sunday afternoon, neighbor Joyce asked if I’d like to go see elk at the visitor’s center in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. We talked non-stop both ways as she drove on small roads through Maggie Valley, over the mountain to Cherokee, and on to the center. Joyce knew that this was the mating season for elk, called the Rut. I took her photo on the big porch of the visitor’s center to show the mountains in the background and the field where the elk often gather. We knew it was late in the season and that we might not see any of the animals.

We walked on the path along the creek and saw men feeding and hosing down some pigs. The path was lined with old buildings, brought to the site to show how people lived long ago.

Joyce kept looking in the woods and spotted an elk walking toward the field. He made the high-pitched whistling sound called bugling. I was thrilled to hear it. (There are many recordings, easy to call up on Google.)

A female emerged from another part of the woods. At some point we saw a third one. They were all grazing and not paying attention to each other. I took this photo to show the road into the park. People often pull off the road to watch the animals, although here they were driving slowly. We left as the sun was setting, still able to see the changing colors of the trees. It was a marvelous excursion.

Out to Lunch with David

David stopped by to pick up some things he had stored here. We were both hungry, so we went to Clyde’s, a diner-type restaurant, and ordered a standard lunch. It included a roll or cornbread, an entree, and three sides. They really pile on the food! We both took half home.

It was great to catch up a bit. I knew his house had not been damaged in the hurricane, but he did mention picking up lots of sticks. Small branches certainly got in my way when raking leaves. They stuck in the rake, forcing me to stop and remove them before continuing.

The dog park where David usually walks their dog was destroyed. It’s adjacent to a stream that went wild and picked up all sorts of things it shouldn’t have. I’m sure it will be replaced eventually, but there are many other things that need immediate attention.

David has been working at Lowe’s for a while. He was one of about half the crew that went to work the day of the hurricane. Some of the workers were sidelined by collapsed bridges, flooded roads, or loss of property. There were not many customers that day, but they came to buy emergency supplies. Lowe’s has been extremely good to the employees. Although this is not the season for overtime, employees were encouraged to work as much as they could to get the store through this crisis. David still looks thin, but he is quite muscular. He says he often goes up a ladder to fetch merchandise that is stored above displays. I think he said he brought a toilet down one day!!

Burning Leaves

Burning fresh leaves was very easy, since they hadn’t had a chance to get wet. The fire was going so well that I added four baskets of garden debris. Afterward, the yard was a peaceful scene.

While tending the fire, I walked near some trees and bushes at the boundary. This is the first time I’ve taken a photo of my dragon holly tree. John and I planted three holly trees to replace one very tall tree that obscured the mountain scene. One tree is fine, one is being taken over by a thorn bush, and this one was nibbled into its dragon shape by two horses and a donkey from the neighbor’s pasture.

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.