September 25, 2014

Today: I went back down to the Community Center on the south-side of town to do some more yard work. I didn't really do a whole lot, as the real work they wanted to get accomplished consisted of digging and hauling railroad cross-ties that probably weigh a hundred pounds. Not something I would even consider assisting with. I planned/knew in advance I would give the volunteering a couple of hours, and do feel like I was productive. Others present were also volunteers from Publix as part of our community service/'give back' project with United Way.

Using my little clippers to trim some shrubs and vines and digging out some undesirables. The shrubs were azaleas that had been butchered over time, and had lots of dead branches in the center. Plus vines growing up through the foliage, that I knew to be very wary of, after my unexpected encounter with poison ivy the first time we were there bush-whacking. Some of the vines were those mean cranky smilax that have the thorns sharp enough to rip skin open. And big tubers underground, so you can cut them back until the end of time and they will continue to grow. The really productive part of my morning was getting a shovel and prying the huge tubers up out of the ground from under the azaleas. Especially difficult when they have been keeping close company for many years and the roots of the two are entangled. Very gratifying to dig them up and know that they won't be sprouting and making more evil vines to rip and tear anyone's clothing or person again.

Then I went downtown to a luncheon with a group of Master Gardeners. Always amusing and usually educational as well. Heard talk about daylily planting and a gardener who thought she was growing some exotic Chinese squash from seeds a neighbor gave her. They ate some when they were small, and enjoyed the vegetables on salads, tasting kinda' like a cross between a cucumber and melon. But as they matured and were left to mature on the vines, Beverly discovered the story turned into something closely related to 'Jack and Beanstalk': she has unintentionally grown loofa gourds. Which were so prolific she brought enough to share with everyone present.

Amusing anecdote: We are all asked for numbers to confirm identity. Especially on the telephone, when you cannot present your government issued ID/w photo. Lately, dealing with insurance issues, I have been asked a number of times recently for 'last four' or birthdate. And discovered today that I am so accustomed to saying 09-25-and adding my birth year, that I had a really hard time actually writing today's date. I told a friend recently that I had never encountered the expression 'last four', especially barked out by a retired master sargeant. Until I went with my dad to VA appointments, and discovered that is how veterans are filed/found in the government records systems.

we will all...

eventually find ourselves quoting things we've heard since birth. Those things that seem to be unique to our moms, or family expressions/sayings you never hear anywhere else. Always coming out of your mother's or grandmother's mouth - to the point that you will eventually find yourself saying: "according to my sainted grandmother....".

Or in my case, what I have come to refer to as 'choppyisms', those odd little sayings that I have heard all my life, but never from any one else's mouth. Named thusly because my mother's nickname was Choppy. Though that was not her given name, her dad started calling her Choppy when she was a child, and it stuck so well, most people in her adult life assumed it actually was her name. Never knowing that it was anything else, until she showed up at the courthouse on voting day, working as a polling official. She was required to wear a name tag, with her 'legal' name, and then they all wondered why she was wearing a name that wasn't her name!

The one that immediately comes to mind is 'whoppy-jawed'. It seems to refer to something that is not quite right. As a porch on an old house that is coming apart, leaning precariously, dangerously loose. Or a car you see going down the road that has obviously been wrecked, and appears to have had major damage to the body, to the point that it does not seem to drive straight: the frame is bent so that the front and back wheels are not in alignment. There are other expressions that are specific to my mom... and I will mention them when they come to mind.

I can't think of any others I heard from my mom, but I can clearly remember her quoting her mother-in-law, my grandmother. She thoroughly enjoyed commenting, when odd weather would occur, anything extreme, or the least abnormal: "we're living in the last days". That is, of course, true. And has been for hundreds of years.

Other grandmother loved to remind me that "you do the best you can, and the angels in heaven can't do any better". Which I assume is meant to inspire us all to take our efforts up a notch, and aspire to improve our daily efforts.  Another is 'take it and say Thank You' that she would pull out and use on me when she was trying to be generous and I was making my best effort to decline her generosity.

This started when F. called me today, from her work place, to report she had seen someone with a T shirt on that make her laugh. So she had to call me, knowing I would laugh too. I asked her to catch the girl in the laugh-able shirt and take a picture. To print here, after I wrote a blog about how we all eventually start sounding like our mothers...

out with the old...

I have been hoping to sell the old Toyota, but not having much success. It has been parked out on the edge of the street for over a week. Where thousands of vehicles pass by it every day. A number of people have stopped and looked, written down my number and called. But they don't call back. A combination of high mileage and price is certainly off-putting.

A man called this morning who is the first who to ask if I would come down on the price. And of course I would. In talking to the guy who sold me the newer one, I concluded I should set my 'asking' price high.  To provide some 'wiggle room', and be willing to let a buyer offer a lower price to feel like they are shrewd negotiators and clever for getting such a wonderful bargain.  Recently posted it on Craigs' List, which could easily be a mistake, as I know everyone who looks there will desire something for practically nothing. But I also know: the option to refuse the offer is always available.

It has been sitting out on the street corner in front of the house for over a week. At one point parked so close to the street that I had a call one evening asking me to move it. From an anonymous female who said it was blocking the line of sight for traffic at the stop sign, waiting to turn onto Lynch Rd. And suggesting if I would not care to relocate: it would be towed. The more I think about that the more annoyed I get... I guess the way she approached it - her tone/attitude. Pretty pissy.

It got relocated Tuesday afternoon. Into town to park on a busy thoroughfare with lots of drive-by traffic. Hoping that some of the different errand-runners on Veteran's Parkway will notice the little gold Toyo. and be interested. It's in front of a State Farm office, where there are often privately-owned vehicles for sale: boats, trucks, jet-skis, four-wheelers, assorted things on trailers. So maybe this will be the place to find a buyer. I'm ready to re-home it.

a fruitless endeavor...

... occurred when I drove up to Callaway Gardens on Saturday afternoon. I had volunteered to 'assist' with Monarch butterfly tagging. But due to the fact that not the first Monarch appeared, the tagging did not. The one Day Center employee on duty who was the expert of the day gave me instruction, and turned me loose with a butterfly net. So you can imagine who looked 'not quite right' for several hours, walking around the blooming borders, waving a butterfly catcher.

There were lots of other insects flitting about: bees, and dragonflies and other varities of butterflies, but not one of the endangered Monarchs did I see. Some that looked remarkably similar, when in flight, with orange wings and black veining. But when they rested on a bloom, the closed wings/underside looked like a moth, wearing brown mottled camoflauge.

I had agreed to be there at 1 and stay till 4, but turned in my net about 3:45, saying I had already had all the fun I could stand with my search for something that simply was not there to be found. And decided to walk a bit, on a path I had never been on. Thinking of all those days with young children who loved to ride bikes. We would put three bicycles in the back of the pickup truck and make a trip to Harris County to whizz along the paved, well maintained, clean asphalt biking and walking trails.

The one I chose yesterday, a short distance from the Butterfly Center was not paved, but a gravel surface. Which I would consider somewhat risky. You know how rocks can roll right out from under you, and you simply loose control of your feet. That didn't happen, but walking on that trail made me thankful I had my phone in my pocket. I walked along the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Trail, which loops around a slough, part of the big lake where the Discovery Center/welcome area is located. And saw a log that had a dozen turtles on it, basking in the sun. I tried to take a photo, but was too far away for you to really see all those black shelled turtles stacked up on the log, snoozing in the afternoon sun. Walked on to the Discovery Center, drank some water, and back to my car. Passing lots of families, people out enjoying the day. Kids poking at things, moms pushing strollers, dads urging little people along.

It was a beautiful day. Clear bright blue skies, sunny, pleasant temperature - perfect for a walk in the woods. Making me thankful to be alive.

you missed it...

... if you did not put on your costume and look/talk like a pirate on Friday. Somehow September 19 has been designated as 'Talk Like A Pirate Day'. So the peak opportunity of the year to go around saying 'Arggghhh', and 'Ahoy Matey,' is over for another twelve months. You might want to put a sticky note on December as a reminder, so you can mark your 2015 calendar accordingly and start planning your outfit.

Because if you do find the gumption to actually dress like a pirate well as practice your salty language, you can go to Krispy Kreme and be rewarded: not with gold dubloons and bounty from the high seas, but a dozen fresh glazed donuts.I know this because a close associate sent me an email outlining the items one must be wearing to 'qualify' as a pirate: including hook, or peg-leg, or parrot on one's shoulder. I thought about it, pondered on it, but decided my lack of interest in all things donut-y outweighed my desire to put on a show for the KK employees.

Which means I did not even mumble anything pirate-like all day. I did sweep and mop, so my kitchen floor is actually clean enough to eat off, but I was able to resist the temptation to put on my eye patch and bandana and hoop earrings and go to the donut store. It would have probably been amusing to sit out in the parking lot and view the assortment of customers- sort of like sitting on the front porch on October 31st see all the kids, dressed and painted, in their costumes.

I went to the church late in the afternoon, to make a delivery and was telling the receptionist that we missed it, and she said one of the staffers did go. He dressed up, took a small child also appropriately attired and a second youngster with feathers in her hair. As it turned out, he picked up the smallest one, the one with feathers bobby-pinned to her hair and clipped onto her clothing, and put her on his shoulders, taught her how to say, in an ear splitting tone: AWWWWkkkk. She was the parrot!

more about Dorothy....

... a funny story to go along with all the amusing tales I am sure were told at the wake/reception following the service this afternoon. I did not stay for the food and drinks, but judging by the friends and family stories I heard at the memorial service, I am sure there was plenty of laughter. Some of which was enhanced/lubricated by the wine and beer Dorothy had requested to go along with the food. Reminding me how it is so often true that the person who would most enjoy that sort of gathering, isn't there. The one person that would be at the very center of the Venn Diagram, where all the elements had something in common - is missing the part/party they would have loved to attend.

I'd seen Dorothy shopping often enough to know she enjoyed an occasional cold beer late in the day. I too am of the opinion that It's Five O'clock Somewhere, and having a toddy from time to time never hurt anyone who would observe moderation in all things. But knowing Dorothy's liking for a cold brew: I smuggled in two cans when she was in hospice back in the spring.

I'd run into her daughter when I was volunteering at the Botanical Gardens Spring Plant Sale one bright sunny spring day. Who told me that Dorothy had been admitted to hospice for several days to try to get over pneumonia that she was struggling with, to be able to have an IV and constant drug drip. Hoping she could shake the problem and return home. I finished my shift at the plant sale, and stopped by the convenience store just down the street. Bought us two ice cold beers, which were put in brown paper bags. Making me look like a closet drinker, for sure.

Then drove over to the inpatient Hospice to check on Dorothy. Politely asked at the desk which room she was in. Found her and told her I had a present. She was in bed with an IV in her arm, but I thought:' so what?' And popped open both beers. She enjoyed hers, even though it was a Miller Lite and she had been a Yuengling drinker, and I drank mine. Bid her a good day/night and went home.

there are several...

...people in my life who I would consider to be 'friendly' acquaintances. Not sure there is a better description for these individuals, who came into my circle/life as a result of being customers in the workplace. They are mostly only seen when I am on the job, but always a delight to have a few minutes to chat with and catch up on family news, happenings in their lives.

There is one, Lee, who has known my family for many years, met the daughters when they were kids, swimming at the pool, pestering her for more  ketchup to dunk their French fries in. She never fails to ask after husband and daughters. She's been through a lot of health problems in recent years, and I am always pleased to see her. She will be pushing a cart through the produce department: that tells me she is doing pretty well, feeling good enough to walk through the store. Which is quite an undertaking for someone who struggles to breathe or just be mobile, walk around.

There is another, Velma, who has become a friend I enjoy having lunch with. She too came into my life by being a grocery shopper. Her husband died several years ago, and we have since been meeting for lunch on a number of occasions, just to enjoy good eats, talk about families and life. She struggles at times with mobility, has begun using a cane to help her remain stable when she walks. But always a pleasure to talk with on the phone when she calls, and a pleasant lunching companion.

A semi-friend who lives out in Talbot County, and comes in once a week with shopping list for herself and her mom, who is pretty much housebound, but lives close by. I've had lunch with her one time, and always enjoy stopping to check on her and family when I see her in the store. As we age, we begin to have assorted aches and pains. Her husband has had some health problems as well, but she is always smiling, cheerful, witty, charming to converse with, even though there are lots of things that could cause her to have a vastly different outlook.

Then there is Dorothy: in her mid-eighties. I think I have known her for at least ten years. She spent some years, as a senior citizen working at the GAP store in the mall - I think she was in her seventies then. Lively, active, gregarious, full of pep. A fascinating person to talk to. I once drove to Atlanta with her as a passenger to drop her off at the home of friends. I then went to my daughter's and went back to pick Dorothy up to bring her back home after a weekend of visiting. Dorothy told about growing up, and working as a life-guard on the shore of Lake Michigan as a teenager. She has a twin sister, who also did this type work. Dorothy had numerous melanomas removed during the years I knew her. She recently died - cancer that spread all over. And likely started during those years of exposure, before the advent/invention of chemical sunscreens we are so often cautioned to use in plentiful quantities. I am going to her funeral today. Her daughter told me that Dorothy had specifically requested a time of fellowship after the service where wine and beer would be served, so everyone could have a drink and enjoy reminiscing about that cheerful, up-beat, enthusiastic Dorothy

RIP, Dorothy.