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...