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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Man in blue praying
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.
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.
Horses’ reunion
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.
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.
Daughter Kate and grandson David went out to lunch before shopping, and then they came here. I had invited them to come for dessert, knowing he likes lemon things. We ate the homemade lemon sherbet I had made for Labor Day. The weather was extremely pleasant, so we sat chatting on the back porch for hours. When daylight faded, we had supper and continued to talk inside. I liked hearing about his new job at Lowe’s. He drives a small vehicle around and changes displays, a constant thing in a huge store.
Kate and David on the porch
As with many families, things can get a bit silly. When the subject of height came up, Kate measured David. I should have gotten in line, because I don’t know how much I’ve shrunk.
How tall are you?
Out of curiosity, I asked David if he could still put both feet behind his head. Although he is quite active, that does not mean that he would still be limber. He tried first one foot and then the other.
Left foot up
Now the right one up and over
After those stretches, he was able to get both feet in place. I took the photo quickly before he dismantled himself.
David’s socks are blue, if that helps.
What I enjoyed most was hearing David and Kate laughing. One doesn’t hear a lot of laughter when one lives alone! Old family anecdotes came out. You know how it is when family members are together. Just saying one phrase can conjure up a whole story that doesn’t need to be repeated, because everyone already knows it. David left at midnight, and bed was not far away for any of us. What a marvelous day it had been!
Daughter Kate and I have tried to make every minute count while she is here with me. We walked all the way to the creek two days in a row!! The round trip is 2.5 miles.
Kate at Jonathan Creek
We reclaimed the living room after Kacey left by removing furniture covers and putting pillows back in place. Kate got chilled while we chatted, so she wrapped herself in a blanket. That was Kacey’s favorite place, where she could monitor the neighborhood by simply raising her head. I thought that worth remembering, and my memories are increasingly preserved with photographs.
Sofa used by a human again
The high point of shopping in Walmart was Kate’s trying on a witch’s hat.
Witch Kate casts her spell.
My favorite photo of our drive on the Blue Ridge Parkway was of Kate with the mountains in the background. The day was bright and sunny in the morning, but by the time we drove there, mist shrouded many views. We drove slowly through every overlook until we found one with a view. We ate a picnic lunch in the car while watching the clouds play with the mountains. A sign said there was a pedestrian viewpoint. I was not aware of anything like that, so we walked on a short trail and found this delightful spot.
Kate and our favorite mountains
Near the car park, there were wild flowers with this cluster of blueberry-like fruits. Edible? No idea! The phone tried to identify it with Lens, but there was no internet connection there.
Mystery globes
For neighbor Shawn we found morning glory blooms. I enjoyed flowers at home from seeds she had given me, so I’m sharing a picture of the same kind of flowers from the parkway.
Morning glories closing in the afternoon
The days have been full of simple delights, and I am grateful.
Kacey’s name had been listed with the animal shelter for several months. She saw a rabbit when I had her on a leash. One moment I was standing up, and the next I was flat on the gravel path. She was too dangerous for me to keep after David moved out. Her health was endangered because I couldn’t exercise her.
Kacey with Kate
Kacey and Kate on the porch
The call came to bring her in the day daughter Kate and I were burning garden trash. We had 48 hours to lavish love on her before we released her for adoption. It was bittersweet. Each last thing was noticed, from the last time I fed her to opening the car door to leave. Kacey was with Kate before bedtime, then she was on my bed waiting for me to go to sleep. As usual, she slept near my bed until my alarm went off. When I was on the floor exercising, she pushed her head into my lap before flopping down for me to rub her belly. She gulped down a couple of bites of breakfast on my plate after waiting patiently for me to finish eating. Getting in the car was exciting, as was the drive to the shelter.
On the stair landing
Kacey realized things were unusual when a worker struggled to get a leash on her. She barked a couple of times, then she pulled the woman toward the door of the shelter, never looking back. Lise interpreted that as straining forward for the next big adventure of her life.
Kacey on the porch
I am praying that an active family will adopt her, people who will provide a stimulating environment and let her run outside as fast as the wind. I hope new people will love the feel of her thick fur and see the beautiful curl of her tail. She will lean against them for petting and do a special dance with her feet and sign of her head to go outside. She will learn to fit into their schedule and try to become the dog of their dreams. Goodbye, dear Quesadilla Puppydog. I will love you and remember you for the rest of my life.
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 