porch naps

I don't take many naps but I love a Sunday afternoon 

nap on the porch when the weather allows it.

It is so, so relaxing to be outside, I go right to sleep listening to the bird chatter.

The last time I had such a nap, I woke up and took 

pictures each direction with my phone showing my views from the couch.

We built our porch about the same time as a blogger did

who has the words "nap" and "porch" as her

blog title. She obviously knows a thing or two about naps on porches.

I'm hoping our old wicker will make it a few more years. All our porch

stuff was bought from here and there second (or third!) hand.

chopped

I've enjoy making chopped salad … kind of a new thing

I'm doing more and more often.

I've always heard you shouldn't cut lettuce with a knife, but so far the edges haven't 

turned brown. I even bought a cheap bowl that would layer well and show off the colors.

(You see our humidity has arrived -- condensation on the bowl!)

For this salad, I chopped all the lettuce (a variety including butter lettuce)

and kept it covered in the bowl in the frig.

I also cut the toppings up ahead of time and put them with paper towel

in individual sandwich baggies. If I had added them too early to the lettuce 

it probably would have gotten way too wet.

I let people put their own dressing on and sort of dig 

into the salad to choose what they wanted.

alligators and more

The amazing live oaks! They make a lovely road canopy or wonderful shade along a river bank.

Such we experienced on a visit to a Charleston plantation this past weekend.

We hadn't been to Magnolia before and I do think it's my favorite for sure.

There is nature galore to see there, and on a tram ride through the swamps

I met more alligators than I'd like, but at least from a distance. I was amused

at the "ski ramps" they provide for these big lizards to regulate their body temperatures.

Of course the big house did not disappoint. 

A house that has been in the same family for 13 generations. 

I so enjoyed sitting on the huge, beautiful

porch and then touring every fully furnished room in the house. 

We even saw the 1930s "new" bathroom.

Can you imagine coming down stairs off the back porch and walking this path to the river

to welcome relatives and friends coming by boat from Charleston, or down from the north?

As an aside, I've been looking for a wide brimmed straw hat as I need to get 

serious about skin protection. We found one at the old market. This is a stretch for me

as I'm not a hat wearer. But as we walked around, I was so thankful to have it. 

AND, I was amused to see so many women in similar hats--men too. 

I was right in fashion. (I'm usually the last to know what the latest thing is!)

As an added bonus the weather was nicely warm but not humid. 

A gift of a day.

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left behind

Everybody seems to be packing. At least in our neighborhood. In the last couple of months
four homes have sold in our cul de sac. Nothing bad going on, just the progression of life.
One neighbor had to go to a nursing home, another wanted a larger house for
their growing family, another graduated from seminary and is moving to the new job,
and yet another moved to be closer to family.
Three of our four new neighbors are very young couples.
(I see baby showers in the future.)

I lived in the house my father built from birth until we moved 700 miles away when I was sixteen.
And then for the next 20 years, I moved 21 times.
I got good at packing, decorating, and painting many, many rooms.
Good-byes were hard for me; change was hard for me, but always
ahead of me was the excitement of new things.
New adventures, new friends, new rooms to paint.
Along the way I collected many "old friends" who are still precious to me.

But I longed to put down roots. To feel really settled.
I've had my wish granted since we've moved only once
since that final one of the frequent moves.
We have history here. We're growing older with our friends.
But over the years, some of those good friends have moved away,
leaving a hole in our lives.

And so I've discovered that it's not easy to be the one left behind.
I watch as the moving van makes its last visible turn around the bend,
taking a family to its new life. I turn away, feeling an emptiness.
It's quiet where there was laughter. I miss the noise next door of children playing. 

The rhythms of living change.

May days

 We relished some time away on a Virginia farm this month, and while there,

a visit to the D-Day memorial in Bedford, the American community that lost more men per capita 

in the Normandy landings than any other.

We've enjoyed time at home loving the coolish weather, rainy days,

and spring flowers, especially our knock-out roses.

The end of May signals the end of the school year, and Not-so-Little One, her

friend and I enjoyed our fourth annual end of year 

celebration milkshake at the counter of a local diner.

This year I volunteered in her 2nd grade classroom each week helping with 

learning centers.  It was sad to say good-bye to a wonderful class. 

I loved being with them and it became my favorite day of the week.

Hollow Hours

May is a busy month so we had only six at our book club today. It actually was good to
be small for a change, and everyone had a chance to talk. Our discussion was lively.
The book, Peace Like a River was by Leif Enger, an excellent writer.

It was unusual and full of surprises and pithy one line sentences.

 Mr. Enger is a marvelous story teller. There were layers upon layers in his story, 
but they were understandable and not confusing. 
It was a book I could pick up after being away from it, and be right back in the story.

The book took place mainly in the early 60s. There was a murder, a fugitive, and a warm, loving,
very tight family. "Exile has its hollow hours" was one of many observations about life.

We met at fellow blogger Rhondi's* house, and enjoyed a cream tea and her love of blue and white.

It was a wonderful, relaxing afternoon with good friends and I recommend you look for the book!
It was the first time I got a book on my iPad (and phone) from the library.
It worked OK, but I still love paper pages! 

*Rhondi and I read each other's blogs for awhile before we somehow discovered
we lived about two miles apart. After she invited me over for tea,
we became "in person" friends and I invited her to join our book club.
The rest, as they say, "is history!"

open windows

We don't open windows much here in the south.
Conditions have to be just right, which doesn't happen often.
But on the rare Goldilocks day, when it's not too hot and not too cold,
the pollen is gone and humidity is low, I love to throw open the windows.
The scent of fresh air fills the house, and I'm immediately taken back to my childhood.
In the Chicago suburb where we lived, no one had air-conditioning.
We kept the windows open all summer long, with a single fan in a downstairs window
to help pull the hot air out of the house during a heat wave.
(How we would beg our dad to let the fan blow inwards so it would
 blow on us, but no, he always faced it outward, and yes, at times
a slight breeze did come in the upstairs windows as a result,
but we still begged.)

The sounds of outdoors filled the house -- people talking, cars passing,
kids playing hide and seek, while crickets lulled us to sleep.
And it always seemed cooler on those hot nights
to sleep with our heads at the foot of our beds.
Maybe we were just trying to get closer to a window, hoping for a slight breeze.

Isn't it interesting how a simple open window
can transport us to another time?

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to floss or not to floss

Just shy of 46 years old, the Gardener's wedding band got stuck on his swollen finger. It had been there all those years except for the recent surgery. G's finger swelled in the night due to a bug bite on his knuckle. There was no way we could get that ring off.

We tried a few things and of course nothing worked. Then I recalled a you tube video I had seen––I can't remember why or when––but it was fascinating to see a method using dental floss to remove a ring from a swollen finger.

I maneuvered the floss under his ring with a plastic needle and then started winding the floss ever so tightly around his finger (which we had soaked briefly in ice water.) This may be the hardest medical thing I've had to do for him as it was so terribly painful. A little dish soap aided, and bit by bit, pulling the floss from the top the ring advanced further and further down his finger until off it came!!

I don't recommend anyone use this method. I just share the story for the amazement of how something we see or hear about in passing can years later become something vital to us. I attribute it to God's loving providence and care. The finger is healing nicely and the ring will go back on soon!

A recently discovered photo when the ring was only 16 years old.

out of the dark

The little resale shop-in-a-house-along-a-country road that only opens seasonly, emails to say they 

will open on the weekend. It's been awhile since I'd been there so I decide I "need" to go. 

We just never know what we'll find there. 

There is only one thing I'm looking for. I get there soon after it opens and the 

proprietor meets me at the door, arms outstretched in frustration. 

"We have no electricity and don't know when it will be on again." 

But she invites me in to shop in the dark. 

The light from the door shines on a plethora of Franciscan Desert Rose. I find two bowls to add 

to my mother's set that I so enjoy using. Now I can serve soup to six. Right next to that, in a

 bit dimmer light, are a bunch of glass desert dishes of which I have seven at home. Now I have eight!

But they are not what I'm looking for.

I head in the darkness towards the book room. The reason I came. I shine my 

phone flashlight on the rows of bookshelves, scanning for a certain title.

Down behind the chair is a neat stack of books on a bottom shelf.

I move the chair and reach down to read the titles.

Sure enough, there it is. Not just a nicely priced used copy, but a beautifully

bound copy looking like new, with pictures inside.

My own book was given away years ago. I needed a new copy as my granddaughter

and I are beginning to read it together, a bit at a time. And I can only

renew a library book so many times!

Imagine my delight in finding such a volume.

(I call it a God-wink!)

And I was so pleased when we were looking through our movies 

last week and came across Little Women. "Not-so-little-one" said,

"Oh I can't watch this one, Grandma. 

I have to read the book first."

a taste of camp

The Gardener continues to improve. And a few days before Easter

the grandchildren arrived for "Camp G&G," as I

decided to call it, hoping to give it a positive spin as their parents 

were very far away. We kept busy and had lots of fun. And

this grandma hit the sack each night the minute their lights were out.

Here are some highlights:

Eggs of course. This year I got "fake ones"

and used their interesting method of coloring.

Just drops of coloring in a baggie, insert egg and squish around.

The kids loved it, wanting to add colors to see what happened.

They were beautiful.

Puzzles, games, blocks, old videos, stories, playing with

neighbors … lots of good fun.

Outdoor work too, supervised by Grandpa who had graduated

from walker to a cane. A good friend dropped off three plants in

three Easter buckets for the kids to plant in our garden! A great idea.

The same thoughtful friend came back later with bug shaped 

cakes she had made, along with icing ready for coloring and decorating.

Such fun, and a delicious desert.

The final day this exhausted Grandma succumbed to

lunch from McDs (which these kids probably

never experienced before.) I have to say the food was

healthy and the happy meal prize--smurf houses--provided 

entertainment for the rest of the day.  

Smurfs? "Grandma, how do you know about them?"

nature stories

 The dogwood. It's whispy beauty gleams in the most surprising places.

A sprinkle of color here or there, peeking out of woods, along fences.

Its thin, oft crooked trunk proudly bends to its Easter tale.

The story is that its strong wood was used for crucifixions.
After one was used for Christ's cross, dogwoods never grew straight again.
The flowers, in the shape of  the cross, portray the crown of thorns,
the drops of blood and the nails.
It may be southern folklore, but dogwoods stop me to remember.

In our garden one solitary azalea blossom survived the freeze.
The bush is huge and usually blooming white.
 You may make your own story here, but for me it's about the Gardener.
I'm so thankful he's home after serious back surgery
and six days in the hospital.
A new lease on life, one could say.

Our neighbor's dogwood and late blooming (after freeze) azalea, 
seen through the branches of our baby dogwood, just starting to bloom.

the boat

I don't usually enjoy a book about sports, 

so reading Boys in the Boat, by Daniel J. Brown,

was definitely a different experience for me.

And, it has become one of my favorite books.

More on the book in a moment. Food seems important at our book club as much as

we try to simplify things. This time Lydia Grace, our hostess, provided just

simple snacks. Well--maybe not so simple. One thing led to another 

as she creatively came up with boat-type serving pieces and snacks. 

See all the narrow slips (boats), oars and nine crewmen?

The book was about the 1936 University of Washington crew that won the 

gold medal at the Berlin Olympic games. See? That doesn't sound to me like

 a book I'd like. It was even long, and I had to get three different

copies out of the library to get it all read before book club.

 But it was well worth it. Mr. Brown is an excellent writer. 

 I kept reading snippets to the Gardener and he followed the story along with me. 

It took us through the depression, regattas near our college, the dust bowl, 

Hitler's propaganda schemes, extreme weather, and inside the lives 

of young college men who were just regular guys.

The teamwork was what was the most fascinating and such a wonder 

to take in. It was a riveting story and gave me a lot to think about.

"And he came to understand how those almost mystical bonds of trust and affection, 

if nurtured correctly, might lift a crew above the ordinary sphere, transport it to a place 

where nine boys somehow became one thing--a thing that could not be quite defined, 

a thing that was so much in tune with the water and the earth and the sky above that,

 as they rowed, effort was replaced by ecstasy."

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doubled by wonder

"I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought;

and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder."

~G.K. Chesterton, 1874-1936

A thought for the weekend.

"I've been somewhere"

As we drove away from our friends' house I turned to the Gardener and said,
"I feel like I've been somewhere." A friend told me that once after a birthday
party at my house that I had made as special as I could. I loved what the phrase says
and have used it since when something is really memorable.

Our friends had invited us and another couple for dinner.
And she pulled out all the stops, or at least all the good china, crystal, and silver.
It was a very delicious meal, beautifully served.
Our hostess paid attention to every detail. The other guest also loves
a nice table, and together we noticed and appreciated everything

we saw and tasted. Such a fuss is certainly not necessary
and I enjoy casual dining as much as anyone,

but once in awhile it's really nice to pull out all the special things
for a good meal and to celebrate friendship. 

What a great evening it was!

Maybe the "icing on the cake" was when she served tea
in her mother's old Hall teapot. It was very similar to my own mother's teapot.
All three of us women have lost our moms in recent years, and somehow
seeing that teapot just touched my heart in a special way.

found on etsy

my favorite time of the week

 The phlox have started blooming. Each year they cover more area.

So lovely.

I'm growing a stack of these Sh*tterfly books. 

The Gardener keeps finding me coupons for a free 8 x 8 book.

It's not hard for me to fill one, I love taking pictures so much.

So I haven't paid for one of them (except postage.)

Azaleas are in full bloom but the dogwoods, who usually come at the same

time, are a bit slower. No one denies it's been a mixed up spring.

And if what is predicted actually happens this weekend, this pretty scene

out our front door window will be covered in white. Yes, white.

And my favorite time of the week?

The morning I volunteer in oldest ("Not so Little One's") 

2nd grade class. I must admit to my brain being taxed sometimes 

when I  help them with math problems, or try to remember

grammar rules, but it's good, so very good to be back in 2nd grade.

I love knowing her friends and talking school with her.

It has been a gift to me this year.

Five Bits About a Week

1. We gathered as old friends for tea this week to celebrate a new grandmother.

We gave her a few things to have on hand to help in her new role.

(not a grandma shower, but   a l m o s t …)

2. During a puzzle-making session, grandson wondered what it would

be like to make a puzzle with no picture on it. So we flipped it.

It was harder to do, and we're sure our brains got more exercise.

3. Four young men to join the Gardener and I for lunch? Certainly they

would not care about a pretty table, but my dishes are what they are.

I tried to make it very casual, and went outside 

to gather some azaleas for the center of the table.

 One of the guys declared the soup the best he'd ever eaten.

(As an aside, I purchased sweet potatoes for the recipe 

and when I went to peel them was shocked

that they were white sweet potatoes. New to me!)

4. Last weekend was so beautiful the Gardner and I decided to take a ride after

working outside all morning. We drove back roads to a little town

filled with antique shops. But all we did was enjoy lunch at a "store front" 

restaurant and then headed home for a nap.

5. Several funerals in our church community all on one weekend.

One was a dear elderly lady who loved Christmas. Her

daughter took all her mom's pins/broaches and designed them

 into a Christmas tree shape. What a sweet memory.

Bonus: Azaleas are in full bloom here, about a month early.

What a surprise to see camo holly berries in the midst of the azaleas.