Firefighter!

Oh! Life is exciting at my house now! Friend Brit has been training with the local volunteer fire department, and she just went to her first fire. I had already gone to bed and didn’t know until the next morning that she had done this. The abandoned house was off the beaten track and mostly consumed by the time someone called about it. There was no one to rescue and no reason to enter a building that was already gone. Brit said she was tired after pulling those heavy hoses around. Surely this was an ideal first experience. She shared two photos where the faces would be hard to identify and the department name is not visible.

Twice since then I’ve been here when Brit responded to an alarm – both times she ran through the house to jump in her car and race off. I would feel silly cheering her on, so I pray for her safety and that of her cohorts.

Brit takes wonderful photos with her phone, and this one caught my fancy. Kacey is bounding toward her, and the sturdy old oak tree is in the background.

Greetings on Monday

You’d think things would gear up slowly on a Monday morning, but I communicated with four people before 9:00 am. Some of Joyce’s mail was put in my box last week, so I left it in hers on the way up the street. There was a package shoved to the back. I stopped and texted her, thinking she’d want to take it in before going to work. We had time to wish each other a cheery good morning with our phones.

Neighbor Holly stopped on her way to work, encouraging me about walking. I’ve learned that newer cars shut off when stopped, but I still find it disconcerting. I bite my tongue to keep from asking how she’ll get to work when her car won’t go. Someone should tell me if taking your foot off the brake or tapping the gas pedal starts it again. Maybe AI just knows!

Bob stopped at the stop sign after taking Logan to school, knowing I was at the furthest point from my house. He said, “Fifty cents for a ride home.” I told him I didn’t have any money, and we both laughed as he drove away.

The last greeter was Bob’s brother Tom, here for a short while before going back to Florida. I asked what he was going to do with his early start. “I’m going to help Bob chop wood today,” he replied. “I know it’s not good to just sit and watch TV. People say you have to keep moving to stay alive.”

I said, “I agree, but my saying is shorter. You SIT – You DIE!”

This is what I saw going toward the stop sign.

It Wasn’t Mary Poppins

I knew the umbrella in my yard did not belong to Mary Poppins (a fictional character), because it was much too colorful. Mary’s was black. I spotted it on my way out to walk and took a photo of it when I got back. I’m sure it was there all day. I intended to pick it up, but I forgot it.

The next day I didn’t realize the umbrella was gone until I saw the pictures I had downloaded from the camera. I asked Brit if it was hers and if she had picked it up. She had used it when unloading things from her car, and it must have blown away while she was walking in the house. I went to the front porch to see if it had ended up in the large evergreen trees. Brit handed me a fresh cup of coffee she had made as she joined me on the porch. No umbrella was in sight. She lightly ran across the street barefooted and looked in her parents’ yard. Not there. Then she spotted it down the very steep hill, floating in the pond. I hope she will wear shoes when she goes to fetch it.

Here is a closeup from the street:

My Music has Measles

I was happily sight-reading music by Handel that I downloaded free from the internet, enjoying playing the piano again. When I picked up the iPad and looked closely at the page, I realized there were lots of staccato markings – little dots under the notes to make them very short. I couldn’t see them when the music was on the rack. If I had played the piece as marked, it would have sounded entirely different. The solution? I put a red dot on each mark, highlighting what I needed to see. The dots look a bit like a child’s face with measles. It worked fairly well. I think I can easily delete the marks with a few taps on the screen, although I intend to keep them there.

Logan’s Big Fish

Neighbor Logan (13) had this week off from school, and going fishing was one special treat. He and his dad Bob rented a cabin at Lake Logan for one night. Bob sent this photo to Shawn, and she shared it with me.

I saw father and son as they drove in and commented on the fish. Logan was still excited about all they caught, and especially this big one. At first he thought he’d gotten hung up on the log, but then the line came alive as the fish moved. All the fish were thrown back, so they couldn’t have weighed them. How marvelous that Bob had his phone with him and thought to take the photo!

The next day Logan wasn’t around when Bob talked about the trip. He said they were in the boat near trees on the bank, and he told his son it would be a mess if he got hung up in the trees. It was amazing that Logan cast sideways with great accuracy, avoiding those hanging branches every time. It was such a delight for me to hear the pride in Bob’s voice. Oh! If only all boys had fathers who were proud their sons!

Brilliant Brit

We invited family friend Brittainy (Brit) to live in our spare bedroom for a while. Grandson David opened the door as she began to bring in her things. I didn’t realize she was in the house until I heard her beautiful laugh down the hall. Her laugh is musical and so pleasing to the ear.

Brit knew I was struggling to deal with my iPad and offered to help. I knew little more than how to turn it on and off. She quickly taught me several vital things like how to get to instructions and tips and how to close open apps. I thought that was enough to remember for one session, but I did mention that I hadn’t been able to use a wireless foot-operated page turner daughter Lise gave me. It is for turning pages in the music app. I had tried to pair it to the app several times, with no success. In less than five minutes, Brit handed the turner to me, held the pad up with music displayed, and had me push the button to turn pages. Impressive!! I will use it for real when I play today.

A Volunteer’s True Story

When I headed home from my walk, this scene reminded me of a story my friend Becky told.

Becky was a volunteer at a visitor’s center for the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. This is the most visited of all the national parks in the US, so visitor centers are very busy there. A couple with children came to her and asked with all seriousness, “When do they turn on the smoke?”

Becky can TALK, but I think she was struck dumb for a moment or so. I have told that story many times, and it cracks me up every time.

There is a chemical reason for the haze we see in the Smokies. The plants not only give off oxygen, but also chemicals that form the haze. My photo shows just mist that would likely be gone before I got home.

A Kilt in my Backyard??

I knew grandson David and neighbor Logan were throwing a football outside. After a while, I looked out and was shocked to see someone wearing a kilt.

My eyes are not what they used to be, so it took a few seconds for me to realize David had gotten too warm and had tied his flannel shirt around his waist. If your vision was a bit blurry, would you have seen a kilt at first??

I Didn’t Miss Much

Yesterday I had finally had enough of annoying notification dings on the phone. There were few things I really wanted to hear, so I tried to turn most of them off. They were canceled at the system level and at the app level. Many still got through that net. David offered to help, so last night he went through turning things off. It seemed like magic. Suddenly there were no offending chirps. Those few moments before I went to bed were very peaceful.

This morning was quiet, also. I woke up fifteen minutes after the alarm should have gone off. What I skipped was the morning exercise routine. I went out to walk at the usual time, to the accompaniment of constant notification chirps. When David silenced things the night before, it coincided with the night hours set to be silent from 11 pm to 6:30 am. I suspect my phone is a compulsive talker, impossible to stifle.

While walking, I saw a large worm-sized creature on the road and took a photo of it. The Lens app identified it as a milk snake, found from Maine to Tennessee and Western North Carolina. I thought it rather cute but would not be tempted to have one as a pet, as some people do.

Kate’s Visit

We stayed busy while daughter Kate was here for a week, but we never felt rushed. I usually take photos when we go out to eat, making it appear that we never stay at home. I have only two from this visit – eating dumplings at China King and going to Jukebox Junction, modeled after roadside eateries from my childhood. Neither place was busy, and both had wonderful food.

Mother and son do heavy chores, making them look easy. I wrote about their burning the garden trash early on. They trimmed the Wicked Wisteria, making me hold my breath. Kate held the ladder, while David reached wayward branches. He felt safe bracing his knees against the top of the ladder. I wouldn’t look too closely, but was relieved when the job was done.

Kate noticed I had left a pile of branches from a nasty thorn bush. She loaded them on the broken wheelbarrow without touching the sharp thorns. It looked like she was running with the wheelbarrow, but she said she hurried because one of the handles was hard to hold.

Seeing neighbors was fun. Joyce brought mail that was put in her box by mistake and stayed to sit on the porch to visit.

Logan came over to play games with us. Kate was putting a jigsaw puzzle back in the box while he and David played a computer game. I didn’t take a photo of our visiting with Shawn and Bob in their living room, but we did enjoy it.

Although Kate has always been very afraid of dogs, she paid lots of attention to Kasey and often took her on short walks. These were two of the photos she took of the dog in her playpen and a favorite pose when looking at the neighborhood from the front porch.

A most exciting moment was seeing a bird flying at full speed and crashing into the porch wall. It didn’t move for a long time. I eased past the bird, took a photo of it through the front door, fetched a dustpan, and gently put the pan next to its feet. It stepped on. As I rose to take it to a tree, it suddenly flew straight to the top of a tree across the street. When Logan (13) saw the photo on our frame, he asked what kind of bird it was, looked closer, and said, “It’s a waxwing. No other bird has markings on its tail like that.” I was very impressed with his knowledge. I had planned to look it up but hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

David and I were chatting with Kate on the phone as she drove home to New Jersey. Grandson Nathaniel called to talk to us, so David propped the phones up for a four-way family conversation. We had had a lovely visit, and that was a fine way to end it.