Open Letter

Dear Friends & Family,
I am way behind on emails, notes, and every other detail of my life right now. Please accept my apology. I do have an excuse: today at 2pm we marked the 1-week anniversary of my current migraine. I have mostly been a slug this week, hanging about, doing the basic minimum for the family's survival.
DH talked me into going for an adjustment at the chiro today but he was unable to move me about much; it seems my muscles are locked in place due to my headache. In fact I feel worse tonight than before. I am going back tomorrow and am in hopes that I will be a little looser so he can adjust me.
My head hurts, I feel like my eyeballs are going to jump out the front of my head, and my ears are ringing so loudly as to compromise my hearing.
I am not good company.
So, if I seem to have blown you off or otherwise dropped off the face of the earth, plz forgive me.
I'll be my usual good-natured, lovable self soon.
Love to all,
Maggies Attic

The Visit

Our home was built in 1933 and we bought it 11 years ago from the adult children of the people who had it built. This is quite unusual in our neighborhood, where many of these elderly homes have been through 5 or 6 families. The brother has since passed away, but the sister is alive and kickin'.
Rachel was in the 2nd grade when they moved into the house, and she attended the neighborhood elementary school, which is now recycled into apartments. Ironically, she stopped in when LO was in the 2nd grade and regaled us with tales of her childhood here. Her bedroom is now LO's bedroom, and she told us just how she positioned the bed to catch the best breeze, as it was pre-AC days. She had polio as a child, and I guess she spent some time in bed. You'd never know it now, she is so very active and.. feisty!
So Rachel is now 82. She sold her home in the nearby small town and moved into the Senior Complex, into an apartment, and lived there for five years. She was miserable. So, at the age of 81, she bought a lot and designed and built herself a new home. This "can-do" spirit demonstrates just what gumption she has.
Her mother, Helen, was quite the gardener, and when we moved in, there were vestiges of beauty in our yard. Of course it was all quite overgrown, but we still have many lovely plants and shrubs from Helen's tender loving care. In fact, Helen's peonies just bloomed last week.
About 3 years ago, I visited Rachel and she remarked that she would love to have one of "Mother's tuberous begonias."
I fully intended to dig one up and share with her. However, when they are up, I fear to disturb them, and after they bloom, they disappear until the next year, so I could not find them.
This week I tired of having her on my conscience. I haven't seen her or talked with her in a couple of years, but she was on my conscience nonetheless.
I called her Monday and asked if I could drive one of Mother's tuberous begonias over to the new house this week. She was delighted.
So today I dug up 3 of the begonias, quickly put them in a pot with good soil, gave it all a little water, and jumped into the car to drive to Ktown.
Rachel was delighted to see me, and the begonias, and her home is beautiful. Very, very Southern Living.
DH had encouraged me to take my little camera, and I am grateful that he did, so I dropped it in my pocketbook before going. I wanted a picture of the two of us, though, and did not know how to manage this. My camera does have a timer on it, but I have not learned that feature yet.
As luck would have it, a friend of hers stopped in about 15 minutes before I left. As I was making ready to go, I asked if the friend might take a picture of the two of us. Rachel was thrilled with the idea and ran for her own camera so she might have a picture, as well.
Rachel's friend Irene is 93, and quite hard of hearing. I yelled to her to push the button halfway down so the camera could focus, then push it down the rest of the way. "How will I know when it's halfway down?" she asked. "You'll hear the little beep," I hollered. "No she won't," Rachel murmured to me out the corner of her mouth.

So we stood in the living room, four feet in front of Irene, yelling to her, "IT BEEPED! PUSH THE BUTTON!" All the while, trying to keep smiling
It was quite a charade to get the picture, but we did. Here it is:









Yep, she cut off the top of my head. I was afraid of this as she had held the cam up to her eye, even though it has a 2x3" screen on it, NOT a viewfinder.


After she handed me back the camera, I looked at the picture, looked at Irene, smiled, and said, "I think I blinked, dear. Would you mind taking another?"

The second one came out better.






Yep, Rachel blinked. I shall try to marry the 2 photos. We'll see how it turns out...

The Perfect Walk

I could easily be the biggest fan our local parks system has. Not that I use all their services -- they offer after-school programs, art classes, exercise, and much more. There are facilities with racquetball courts, weight-lifting facilities, a "disk golf" course and more.

So it's not that I avail myself of all they offer, but I truly appreciate all the work they do on a limited budget and I appreciate the way they improve my quality of life.

Above you can see the covered bridge on the greenway where Little Dog and I walk in the mornings. I am a terrible judge of distance, but I would easily say this bridge is between 20 and 30 feet long. It is stoutly constructed. Our footsteps echo with a deep sound. LD's little feet really go "trip trap" just like the billy goats gruff.

Look at the beams inside. I appreciate the way they are solid so that no pigeons or anything roost up in there.

This is the creek below the covered bridge. LD and I usually stand at the side of the bridge and look down into the water. Sometimes we see fish and once I saw a beaver. The water is especially deep right now as we have had lots of rain. But even in the midst of the drought last year, there was enough water in this creek for a continuous current.

These are the woods just past the creek. You can tell by the green blanket on the floor of the woods that it is pretty damp in there. Isn't it beautiful?

This is only one of the crooked-y trees to be found in the woods. All the growing stuff here has such personality, I never tire of looking at it all.

See the honeysuckle on the left? It is everywhere right now and as I walked, I searched for a way to describe it for you. Heady -- intoxicating -- redolent -- they have all been so overused. I can only tell you the air smells so sweet it seems to lift me a little off my feet. I wish it were always in bloom.

I do believe LD has allergies. If she is outside for any amount of time, her eyes take on this squinty look, and she sneezes unusually much for a dog.

These pictures show the fields. Although the greenway meanders through much of the Little Town, the stretch I walk on is only a mile, but it has varied land: creek, fields, woods, and marshy area. LD and I typically walk it only twice, for a 2-mile walk. If I try to walk it a third time, she lies down and says, "I'm done." Then I have to carry her the rest of the way.

Last week I mentioned a bush that was covered with lovely white fringy blooms. As I feared, by the time I remembered the camera, all the blooms had fallen off. The bush stands about 15' high and man, it was gorgeous.

This tree is at the very beginning of the trail, near where I park at the elementary school. I love the way the trunk & branches look like someone scrubbed them.

There are a few other little footbridges and I took this picture over the side of one of them. These are the tallest daylilies I have ever seen. They stand almost five feet tall. They are in the ground down below the bridge I was standing on, and their spires came up beyond the handrail of the bridge. I wonder if they are a special type, or if the marshy land is just especially fertile.

Postscript: I got the following email from my most faithful blogreader:

I believe the plant that you thought was a daylily is a yellow flag iris...
Of course she is right. Learn something every day! She should write a plant encyclopedia.

Well, Lord, You Gon' Show me Something?

My DH has a friend named Albert. Albert still lives where DH grew up, in eastern TN. DH and Albert have not been close through the past few years, but have stayed more or less in contact. I've never met Albert, I don't think, but DH and he were quite close when they were young.
Well, Albert called DH out of the blue about 2 weeks ago. He has a son in the Navy and Albert had the opportunity to take a tour of his son's submarine, the Hawaii -- not an hour long tour. Albert got to ride the submarine for FOUR DAYS.
DH looked up this submarine on the internet. It's amazing. DH of course was more captivated than I by all the details. I just don't get into ships and structures and stuff as much as DH. It's nuclear-powered. It's supposedly the most advanced submarine out there.
So Albert called earlier this week and left a VM: "Wanted to tell you about my ride on the submarine." DH laughed and laughed at this message, saying, "He refers to it as if it was a ride at the amusement park."
Albert said the main control room was 12 x 30, with 50 screens. 12 men work in there full-time. Headphones allowed them to listen to any section of the sub real-time. Listen to the nose. Listen to the sides, hear the shrimp. Hear the dolphins following the sub.
The sonar is so advanced it could pick up a boat 5,000 yards away. Identify if it were gas or deisel, how many feet long it is. How many propellers were on it.
The sub can sneak up on someone 500 yards away and no one can tell it is there. The nuclear reactor is powered for 37 years. Albert loved telling the details and DH loved hearing them.
Albert was treated with the ultimate respect. He had a blast.
After the trip, they were in Atlantic City and Albert's son said, Dad, let's go to this casino and have dinner. We don't have to gamble, but the food is great.
Albert said he was in the casino and his heart was so sad. You would have to hear this guy tell the story to get the full effect. He has an accent, quite an accent, and it makes the story all the better. While I would love to think my writing can convey the story in the same light, I heard some of the story second-hand, and some by speakerphone, and do not have notes or recordings. But this guy is the penultimate storyteller.
Well, he was in the casino and his heart broke. There were people there with walkers, old people, sad people, desperate people, all feeding the machines trying to make some money. He said, "If they just knew the joy of God they wouldn't have to stay in that casino trying to find happiness."
Albert said he had it set in his heart to enjoy the trip, and he did. But as he was boarding the plane, he asked the Lord, "Lord, are you going to let me take this whole trip and not teach me anything?"
The plane trip was extremely bumpy. Turbulence made the jet lurch and roll. Finally, when they reached their altitude, the trip smoothed out. They were above the clouds and the sunlight was blinding. Albert didn't have any dark glasses and had to pull the blind -- the light was so bright. He felt the Lord was showing him the way here on earth is rough and full of bumps. But the higher you get, the smoother the ride, and the brighter the light.

I just wish you could have heard Albert tell the stories.

Very Cool Invention

So I was chatting with my DS2 and DIL on Skype this morning and he mentioned that "of course, the Japanese invented the square watermelon.."

Well. My DS2 has been known to pull the proverbial leg on occasion. Actually, both sons keep their tongues firmly planted in their cheeks. So I had to ask, "Are you messin' with me?"

"No, Mom, it's for real. Look it up. There's this cool invention called the Internet. You can check it out."

So I did. It seems round watermelons take up so much space in the refrigerator. (They do.) It seems they roll around when you try to cut them. (They do.) So the farmers in southern Japan developed tempered glass boxes which they place in the field with the budding watermelon fruit inside. As it grows, it takes on the shape of its box. Then they dissemble the box and sell the watermelon for a whopping $82. But in Japan, this is only triple the normal price.

It was developed in 2001, and I would imagine the price will come down as the practice becomes more normalized. Here is a pic I found on the Internet:

Graduation Day

Last night we graduated from our Leadership program -- a bittersweet moment. After 9 months of working together, some of us became quite close. Ironically enough, 3 of us also became friends via our Artist's Way group, at about the same time that the Leadership program started -- so we have gotten a little closer than the rest.
We had a lovely dinner at the country club, and listened to a very conservative speaker who tried hard to inspire us with epic stories about Churchill and Reagan. It was a noble, if ineffective, effort. I think part of the lapse was due to a generation or two between him and most of us.
Little One asked me if she were invited and I somewhat shamefacedly replied that I had not made reservations for her. Why not? she asked. Well, it's not really a young person thing -- you would be bored and you would be the only young person there. No I wouldn't, she said, Elaney and Michele would be there. :) Had to smile at that.
Speaking of LNE, she gave each classmate in the Leadership program a personal note sharing what we had meant to her. Sooooo thoughtful, and it must've taken her a week to do it. Mine is special and I cherish it. Thank you, L.
On the front of her notes was a quote that LO and I first learned of, in the movie, "Akeelah and the Bee," one of LO's most favorite movies. While the movie is one of LO's favorites, the quote is def one of mine. Here it is.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we
are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that frightens
us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn’t serve the world. There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We were born to manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us, it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fears, our presence automatically liberates others.

Local Leadership Program

Over the past year, it's been my privilege to participate in a program sponsored by our Chamber of Commerce. As we live in Rowan County, our program is called, Leadership Rowan. There are a zillion programs just like it, in communities all over the US. There's Leadership Las Vegas and Leadership NYC and Leadership Nowhere, Iowa.
The purpose of the Leadership program is to expose the participants to a variety of experiences, all intended to further acquaint them with the many facets of the community: criminal justice, education, local business, finance, museums, local history, charities, local government, and community leaders. Whew. It has been a full year and I have learned so, so much.
When we started our year, I did not know one single person in the group. After a year of this program with them, I know some quite well, and have actually developed friendships with one or two.
The program kicked off with a dinner at the Country Club, including our spouses and bosses from work. Since I'm my own boss, the Chamber saved the cost of one meal. We were surprised, and some were horrified, to learn at that dinner, that we were the program. Each of us had to speak for a minute or two, at the podium, and introduce ourselves to the group. Who are we? What are we about?
Well, now it's the end of the year and for graduation Thursday we return to the Country Club for our graduation. With spouses. With bosses.
I adhere to the old adage, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me." So I have wondered if we will once again be the program. Last night we worked at the local shelter and a graduate from last year's program helped us out.
"So," I asked her, "ARE we the program for graduation? We were for the opening; I have to wonder if we are, for graduation." She replied, "You're pretty smart."
I'm working on some words. Will post later.
If you are reading this and you are also involved in the program, please keep this under your hat. OK???

More Greenway

Tucker and I took a walk on the greenway this morning, and I intentionally left the iPod at home. I tried not to think about the people and relationships in my life, as I would typically do on a walk, but to focus intently on the nature surrounding us. No music but the birds around us, no storyline or symphony piped into my head.

I wound up wishing I had at least brought the camera to enhance the blog. The woods at the greenway are quite dense and it immediately gets pretty dark in there. The trees are unusual and have great shape, not simply straight up and limbs, but crooked arms and great personality, much like the trees in Wizard of Oz, the ones that throw the apples at Dorothy and the Scarecrow. btw, did you ever realize how smart the scarecrow was to manipulate the trees into throwing lots of apples at them? He had intelligence all along...

There is one tree in particular alongside the greenway that looks like a person. I hope to take a picture of it soon and superimpose the characteristics that I imagine on top of the photo.

There is lots of honeysuckle along the greenway now, and what I imagine might be Carolina Jasmine, although the flower is white, and I thought Carolina was yellow. I am also familiar with Confederate Jasmine, and it has white flowers, but the leaves are waxier. Maybe when I take the camera I can also take a pic of this and email it to the Parks guy, a former landscaper who can surely identify it for me. I am in love with an ornamental tree there, a smallish roundish tree whose blooms look like wispy white feathers.

Tucker was more instinctive today, actually preferring to walk on the ground rather than the paved pathway. She sniffed and snorted and fancied herself to be a Great Huntress. She has developed a most comical habit. When the leash is too short for her, she begins coughing loudly, sounding just like a goose. Honk! Honk! She tries to sound like she is choking. Honk! Honk! I am not to be fooled. "Tucker. Cut it out." She turns back to look at me, shrugs her shoulders, sighs, and says, "OK. Never mind." The honking stops and we proceed.

We walked 2 miles today, and it wasn't until the last half-mile that my foot started hurting.

My feet are my weakest spot. I was told once that one in 10,000 women have too much of a certain enzyme when they are pregnant, the enzyme that loosens ligaments so the pelvis can expand to let the baby's head through. We lucky few become extremely limber, and our arches fall like a brick.

The arch is an elegant support for the foot. Without an arch our toes splay flat on the floor, and the entire foot is weaker. Hence my repeated broken toes, and stress fractures in my feet. I dropped a large coffee table on my right foot at Christmas, and the large toe and 2nd toe have been painful ever since. DH remarked last week that the 2nd toe is quite crooked now, and he wonders if it might really be broken? I believe it is. So I hobbled for the last half-mile of the walk, and have elevated it the rest of the morning. It's quite a challenge to be physically active without using one's feet.

How Fast Can You...

Type? DH has always remarked on my rapid typing. If he walks into the room and starts to speak, and I look up at him and continue to type away on the keyboard, he typically says something like, "Doggone how you do that!" (Shades of Andy of Mayberry.)
I typically respond by saying I type (or "key") slowly these days as compared to the heyday of my programming career. This week he asked how fast I typed at my fastest. I told him I was once clocked at 121 wpm.
This led me to wonder how slow I actually am now. I googled "test typing speed" and got several hits. This one has plenty of free testing and has nothing to sell -- nothing that I see, anyway. It gave me a good few minutes of testing myself, which I should tell you, I actually enjoy, always have. My parents met during WWII as my mother taught typing at her local Army base; my dad was her student, so maybe my fascination with it all came from the womb.
At first I typed a mere 72wpm with no errors, but as I crept up to 78, then 84, my errors increased. I did not count the words but the passage is short and at one point I made 3 errors, quite high for such a short passage. Give it a try and see how fast you can type.

Carolina on my Mind

Years ago I used to drive through North Carolina as I ferried the children from Virginia to Atlanta, where I deposited them with their father, who had driven from Alabama to Atlanta to pick them up. The trip was 4 hrs more or less for each of us and it was a fine compromise.

On the return trip, sans children, I often took my time and wandered here and there on the way back to Virginia. North Carolina always seemed to be such a cordial and pleasant place. I loved Virginia, and still miss it, having moved away only for a job opportunity, but North Carolina had a certain Southern-ness and cordiality that somehow seemed lacking in VA. VA is a great state, one of the first 13 colonies, and those who live there are immensely proud of that. It is great altogether, and that may be what distinguishes it from NC. NC is just happy to be a pretty small, and pretty nice, state. People here are moderate, the weather is moderate, and it's pretty hard to be disagreeable in such a moderate environment.

I was pondering this, this afternoon, in lovely 76 degree weather, as I dug, potted, and hauled clippings to behind-the-shed in preparation for our little dinner party tomorrow night. The birds definitely seem to sing louder here, the sky is definitely bluer, Carolina blue, in fact, and people are just so darned polite. We have the mountains on one side, the shore on the other, and the lovely piedmont in-between. We have just enough history to feel relevant but aren't so steeped in it that there seems to be no tomorrow.

I have enjoyed every location in which I have lived, but I really enjoy Carolina and feel fortunate to live here.

Hope I still feel the same way Wednesday, when we see how the Carolinians voted.

Emotion or Exhaustion

Sometimes when I blog, I email my MIL to let her know so if she has nothing better to do, she can tune in and see what I have to say. I blogged earlier today, and dropped her a quick email so she could see the results of her careful mentoring.

I don't much think she will mind my posting her response here:

Hi, I was afraid you would leave before I could tell you what a great job you had done. It is beautiful.It is better than I could have imagined.,And the pots on the porch ,just perfect..Good , good job I know you are pleased. Keep your tree well watered.until it takes root. Your porch looks so inviting and so cool. Have a good time!!!!!!!! love, mom

When I tell you I cried, I am sure you think, "Oh, she had a tear or two roll down her cheeks," and I tell you, no, I bawled like a baby. Made noise. Gasped for air. Tears are still rolling down these cheeks.

How nice to work hard on something and have the person you care about, actually like it.

Thanks for the email.

awol

I realize I have been AWOL from the ol' blog for several days. I really do have a good excuse.

Our yard has been in a state of severe neglect for at least one summer in recent memory. It took several days of hard manual labor to get it rectified. Overgrowth of legitimate plants and weeds alike had pervaded some areas while others resembled lunarscapes due to the recent drought. I pulled, cut, hacked and cleared the first offenders and invested, dug, and planted the second. Oftentimes DH would do some of this but he was laid out with allergy / flu/ bacterial ear infection. He had a painful ear, pluggy head, terrible cough, sneezing, and general grumpies to boot. He did dig the hole for the tree when he observed what a crummy digger I am. Little holes I can make all day long, but at big holes, I honestly suck. Many thanks to my extremely patient MIL who sent email after email with Landscaping for Dummies advice to this self-acknowledged dummy.

Yesterday, having gotten most of the planting and much of the trimming done, I spread 8 bales of pine straw and 2 tractor scoops of mulch. It sounds easier than it was. Make that, filled the wheelbarrow 15 times and hauled mulch down the hill, then spread it.

We used to have a truck, but no longer. Once I coughed up the cash for the Japanese maple, it took me an hour to find a friend with a truck we could borrow to get the tree home. I did think the $25 the nursery wanted to charge for delivery was reasonable, in light of the cost of gas, but I just did not want to spend anything more on the doggone tree.

Bringing home 8 bales of pine straw also presented a challenge. At first, I thought 4 would do it. My Mercedes is on the small side, and I know plenty of Mercedes snobs who would gasp at the thought of what I put mine through. We now know I can fit 4 bales of pine straw in it; 2 in the trunk and 2 in the back seat, sitting straight up like little passengers. There is room for one more back there, to tell the truth. But, I thought I just needed 4, so off we went. After spreading them, I realized I needed 4 more, so went back to Lowe's and repeated the process. Thank you Lowe's for the gift card I got in the mail, $10 off on purchase of $50. I do have a bare spot or two and plan to get 2 more bales in a few days.

The yard definitely looks better, that is, the beds look better, while the lawn itself is a tableau of fescue, chickweed, and crabgrass. I out-and-out asked DH yesterday if he will apply weed killer, seed, and feed to the grass. There was a look of panic on his face as he said, "You mean, NOW?" No, I assured him, just this spring; so the yard will look nice. "Oh," his face resumed its calm demeanor. "OK." (He thinks I will forget.)

I do have "before" pics but am not posting them. Here are the "afters." I believe I'll go sit on the porch.