a bushel of fresh corn...

... bought at the store when it was a cheap as it will get at 4 ears for $1. Purchased on sale, to make creamed corn for freezing. We brought  it home on Saturday after lunch, to shuck, de-silk, wash, scrape, put in a big pot to blanch/simmer and go in the freezer. Not sure how many quart zipper bags the forty-plus ears will fill when it gets cool enough to dip up, but thinking about what a treat it will be to have available to pull out in the cold dark days of winter, heat and eat. Yum.

It was not nearly as messy as I remember: the last time there was splatter all over the counter top, me, sink, floor - so I am beginning to wish I had purchased  more. But not thinking that with enough enthusiasm to be willing to go back to the store for another bushel, to start all over with shucking, scraping, cooking, etc. Now that the mess is cleaned up, I am highly unmotivated to want to do it again today. So even though I can say: 'that wasn't so bad', I have no interest in doing it again...

We bagged it up after supper, and put two full cups = one pint in each zipper bag, put them in the freezer. P. will take them withe her when she leaves after lunch on Sun. to return to TN and enjoy eating the creamed corn, remember warm sunshine of summer when the cold winds blow next winter. Her dad sat and watched us fill the bags and commented on how good it would be in the coming year. I said you need to adjust your thinking: this corn is not for you, it is all going to Tennessee tomorrow.

a funny tale...

... for your amusement, at the expense of The Man Who Lives Here.  But he was the one who told the story, so I do not feel badly about repeating it to entertain others. He has a hearing loss problem, and has been wearing aids in each ear, for some years. The aids were supplied, free of charge, by the Veterans' Administration. When The Man was fresh out of high school, he volunteered to join the Air Force, and was trained as a jet engine mechanic. Spent a number of years working on airplanes at a base in south Georgia, long before the idea of hearing damage would have occurred to anyone. All that time around the very loud, high-pitched whine of jets being tested and actively in use has caused him to have noticeable hearing loss as he ages.

When he began to realize he was having difficulty and discovered the VA would provide help, the nearest facility where he could be tested was in Tuskegee AL. He made an appointment and went for the evaluation, eventually fitted out with aids in each ear. Which have been very helpful as he ages and his acuity continues to decline.

You will remember that he periodically makes a trip to south MS, when he thinks the people at his favorite gaming facility have been lonesome without him. He continually gets invitations to come and visit, though I am sure they are much happier to see his money. They love for him to come and stay over a long weekend when there is a blackjack tournament going on, even staking him to a starting pot with which to gamble/guess on the cards. Expecting, I assume, that after he plays cards and gives all the money belonging to the casino back, he will then give them a pile of the cash he brought along from GA.

He was in Biloxi weekend before last, accepting another invitation to come for a visit with his pockets stuffed full of money for them to slowly siphon off, as he participated in a blackjack tournament.  You might recall that old country music song, I think by Johnny Cash, about the man who worked in Detroit and stole car parts each day to smuggle out in his lunch box? Ending up with a vehicle that was assembled with parts manufactured over many years? When the cash is eased out of your pocket in minuscule portions, you are making small donations on a daily basis buying lottery tickets or putting change in the slot machines, you simply don't feel like you are being robbed. It does not feel like someone in a ski-mask with a gun stuck in your ribs, but it disappears in drips and dribbles. And just as gone as throwing it out the car window.

I got periodic reports by phone, as he made his way to the semi-finals of the competition. But, as you might expect, at some point, most are eliminated. He was not the big winner, but said when he got home he 'enjoyed' the trip. I assume he continued to play with the resources he had when he left home, and did come back with enough to be willing to share some of it with me.

He also reported that during the time he was there, playing cards, he lost one of his hearing aids. Did not notice it at the time, as they are so light-weight, it is hard to realize that the small device is not in your ear, enhancing your hearing ability. When he did realize that one was missing, he reported the loss, hoping it would be found nearby, as the cleaning crew would discover it and turn it in to the front desk. The reception desk did notify him, but when he went to retrieve the tiny device: it was  not His! Hmmmm.....

He has already called to make an appointment for a replacement. And reports when he goes for evaluation/testing next week, he expects they will replace the aids for both ears, as technology has improved so dramatically since he was first issued aids years ago. I am hopeful that the new ones will make our lives easier. He will hear better and we will not get so annoyed and aggravated with each other when one cannot hear and the other gets weary of not being heard.

being a tourist...

The monument is in celebration of the three hundredth anniversary of the founding of the first permanent English settlement in North America, which was, of course, Jamestown. The next hundred-year anniversary is drawing near... but no mention of how they plan to celebrate.

This lion's head is a small detail seen on all four sides of the tall obelisk. I am quite fond of carved stone that might appear to be similar to gargoyles, so the carved lion caught my eye.

Ship in the foreground is the "Susan Constant", with smaller ships being obscured by the largest of the three, all replicas of the ones that made the voyage bringing the first permanent settlers from England to the New World.

... while visiting in Virginia. We went over to Jamestown on Tuesday. Rain was predicted, and we got in a little. I don't mind rain, or being in it, but do not like to get my feet wet and have to walk around or spend the rest of the day with wet socks and shoes on. I cannot abide cold clammy feet. Have been around long enough to know that cold feet make me miserable. And also know that warm and dry 'way down there at the far extreme part of my person are an absolute necessity. We kept mostly dry, so it was an interesting day.

Jamestown in a good distance up the James River from the coast, which I did not know. I would have thought they would have been so tired of being crammed together on those little boats the adventurous souls would have been desperate to get off and jumped as soon as they were close to solid land. It seems that their instructions from the king were to establish a permanent colony that would not be so easily seen or attacked. So the three little boats went in to find a good landing spot that would be suitable for building and settling that would not be near the coastline.

The James is a wide murky river, with a auto-ferry that delivers vehicles and pedestrians across near the original site. Several large boats that have ramps on either end for cars to enter and exit, that are, I assume operated by the state D.O.T, as there is no bridge in the area for crossing. There is something, a unique experience, really gratifying when  you drive a car on a big boat, to be conveyed across a large body of water, arriving in safety and comfort on the other side. I've been on this ferry several times over the years, and would happily go again: open water, the wind in  your face. Neat.

The 'original' settlement is in a state of continual digging. A private non-profit organization has owned about thirty acres since the late 1800's. The National Park Service owns much of the surrounding land, on an island, surrounded by low-lying, marshy areas that flood with the incoming tide. So their is a cooperative administration, with the both providing support and manpower. We had an interesting tour, by a well informed man who was part of the archeology team who has worked there for many years. Peeped into a brick church building that was being excavated, the dirt floor completely dug up to well below the line of outside earth. Several people with small hand tools were down in various holes, under bright flood lights carefully scraping away layers of soil, searching for bits of evidence: metal, buttons, buckles, ceramic sherds, bones, any clue that could be used to put together information about the earliest residents.

We were amazed at the information modern technology can provide with those little bits. Computer analysis can determine what sort of food they ate, what they ate it on, where they came from based on chemical composition of a tooth. Analyze bones for age, gender, whether the individual was upper class or peasant by their nutrition. How long they had been in the 'new world' could be determined: corn based diet or wheat based diet: new vs. old., high protein vs. high vegetable content. You see this sort of stuff in television shows, but it is really real. The insight computers can give are astounding.

Then we went to the place nearby, also on the river,  run by the state of VA, where the replicas of the three boats are docked. "Susan Constant" is the largest, then "Godspeed" and "Discovery". Looking much too small to make trans-oceanic voyages safely. It is hard to believe the people who settled survived the trip across the Atlantic on those small boats. It took five months to get to their final destination, going by the Canary Islands, several stops at islands in the Caribbean for fresh water and supplies: twice the distance and time it would take to come straight over from England. But with no GPS or Mapquest - how would they know that?

workin' + travelin'...

... and then staying up much much later than normal, when we sat and talked until nearly 11:00 p.m. Due to mostly having to be at my place of employ at 5 or 6 o'clock, getting up long before daylight is not unusual. As we all know, it will eventually catch up with you and cause random intermittent napping at inappropriate times, or the desperate need to go to bed the minute you get home from a long day at work. It is amazing I was able to stay awake so late when I got off the flight to Richmond, and sit and chat without dozing off mid-sentence, like someone with a certified sleep disorder.

My favorite travel agent found tickets for me to purchase weeks ago, that would take me to spend several days in VA. Reporting it would be considerably cheaper to leave ATL on Sunday afternoon, as opposed to flying out on Monday, which was a holiday with higher rates. After working for eight hours on Sunday, I jumped in my car to drive to Decatur, where I left my car parked and hitched a ride to the airport.

Anxiously found the gate where I needed to be in ample time for boarding at 5:02, in a new concourse I have never seen before. I did not know "F" concourse even existed (and maybe it doesn't), but I went there and found what appears to be a large shopping mall as well as a dozen or so gates for boarding airlines. When I got to the desk there at gate F-12, I had to ask for a seat assignment, as it did not occur when the ticket was purchased. I sat down to read my book until passengers were called to start the loading process, and waited for a bit to get on. I found my seat a few rows back from the business class (meaning I could get off quicker than the ones all the way in the far back) and stowed my suitcase. Discovered my spot between two very large black men, making me feel like the gooey middle of an Oreo.

It was a uneventful flight, though the weather man predicted thunderstorms and pounding rain for the entire eastern seaboard over the weekend. There is a tropical storm, Alfredo, that came up through the FL panhandle into AL, but nothing noticeable while I was in the sky on Sunday evening. Plenty of rain and flooding according to the news, but here only periodic showers requiring umbrellas or ponchos for those who are out in it.

We went to a parade on Monday to celebrate Memorial Day, sponsored by local American Legion posts, that was sorta' spotty. Only one marching band, lots of antique cars, numerous first response vehicles and a few girl scouts on farm trailers decorated with poster paper cut-outs of GS cookies. Flags and bunting galore and plenty of spectators to applaud and cheer as the parade chugged along.
We sat in the shade in our folding chairs, licked ice cream cones, and occasionally shouted, as parade participants passed by: "hey Keisha!" And "'way to go, Jazmin!" when total strangers puttered along in old cars.

book review: lots of things by Tony Hillerman...

... sadly, he won't be writing any more, so when I get them all read, it will be time to start over.  Sorry, he is deceased. Really light, entertaining reading, if you can overlook the fact there is always at least one corpse that came to an untimely end as well as numerous circumstances that are related to mysterious deaths of native Americans. Often involving some aspect of Navajo spirits, tales from oral history relating creation stories or coyote/trickster.

One of the stories, heard on CD rather than printed book form, was "Skeleton Man." Taking place in the southwest of the US, four corners area where four states intersect, and there are several Native reservations. Some of the story occurs as the main characters trek down into the Grand Canyon in search of diamonds that disappeared when two airliners collided over the Canyon, resulting in many deaths. One passenger had a small case of jewels cuffed to his wrist, died in the mishap, and left a pregnant partner behind. The now adult child is trying to prove her parentage, and hoping to find: not the costly jewels, but the arm it was attached to, in order to get DNA samples and prove her heritage.

Another story, in a book I picked up from a Little Free Library, is part of a trilogy, three published in one volume. This one also required the characters to descend into the Grand Canyon: "A Thief of Time." They were attempting to find an archeologist who was researching Anasazi pottery. The scientist was convinced she could trace a number of pots or sherds to a particular artisian who lived in the canyon pueblos hundreds of years before white men arrived. She disappeared, after deceiving co-workers into thinking she had left the area, while she was trying to discover the source of the pottery. No spoilers here...

Hillerman's two recurring characters are police with the Navajo Nation force, Lt. Joe Leaphorn and Office Jim Chee. There are names mentioned in all the books that are likely very common in the nations: Twosalt, Yazzie, Ironwoman, Highhawk. The people he invents seem to be well fleshed out, each individual imbued with details that make them seem human, complete with frailties and complicated personalities. Over the years I have read a number of the Hillerman books and enjoyed getting to know Leaphorn and Chee.  Recommend you start anywhere with his compendium and take the time to digest, get to know these guys.

book review: "The Last Girl"...

... written by Nadia Murad. After reading a review, a request to the library resulted in them getting the book for me. When someone saw me with the book, they asked if it was good? I said 'no', then gave a brief synopsis. It is not something to be read for pleasure, but probably far more educational than you would expect, providing much more than you want to know. Hard to read and hard to put down.

Nadia lived in a small, fairly isolated village in Iraq. In a culture that is rapidly being destroyed, but  at the time was still intact and flourishing as many of the Yazidi would not leave. Family members would often leave to find employment, but others would stay in their area, marry others of the same background and continue their traditions. A small minority that the Muslims consider infidels, which resulted in the ISIS fighters believing they were worthless, but could be used.

When ISIS overran the village, they killed most of the men, disposed of bodies in a mass grave. Most of the older women and small children had no value, so they were killed as well. The young women were taken to be used as sex slaves, sold or given away, repeatedly raped, considered worthless, of no value so easily abused, and easily replaced.

After being assaulted by many men over time, she escaped. She had to be covered, head to toe every time she left the house, and not often left with the covering that was necessary (to become anonymous and not identifiable) to wear when out in public. At one point she was given to a man who left a door unlocked, and failed to take her clothing, providing the opportunity to gain freedom. She knocked on a random door in a random neighborhood and found help. The family took her in, assisted in getting forged travel documents and helped her get out of the country.

When she finally was reunited with brothers who had left home prior to the invasion by ISIS, she lived in a bare-bones refugee camp, first in a tent, then in shipping container, with relatives who had also found their way out of bondage. Eventually relocating in Germany, she finally spoke the truth of being brainwashed to believe she was worthless and damaged goods as a result of the sexual abuse, as well as being forced to convert to Islam. Nadia is now a United Nations spokesperson, sharing her experiences and helping to support their human rights programs. She "is the UN's first Goodwill Ambassador for the Dignity of Survivor's of Human Trafficking, currently working to bring the Islamic State before the International Criminal Court on charges of genocide and crimes against humanity."

At the end of the book, in the epilogue, is an explanation for the title. On the last page, in the last sentence of the last paragraph: "More than anything else... I want to be the last girl in the world with a story like mine."

the blooming things...

... I planted last spring are putting on a show. Across the street from my house, at the entrance to the golf course.  The showy lily plants you see here, are glorious right now are actually Easter lilies that can't tell time, to know that it is a month past Easter. Purchased the day after the Sunday holiday last spring when they were marked down and on sale for $1 each. I persuaded the boss to dramatically discount instead of just throwing them in the dumpster, so I could bring them home and plant over there along the edge of the bed to re-bloom every year.

Other things that I have relocated over there that are currently in bloom are some roses that flowered all last summer. They got much bigger than I expected, as they were rescues and were originally in wee little four inch pots. Lots of agapanthus I dug up from my yard and moved: you can barely see blue flowers on tall stalks back behind the lily plants on the right side of the photo.  Several crepe myrtle that will get tall over time and produce watermelon/mauve blooms later in the summer. A couple of the salvia pollinators love that will have little red blooms all summer long and attract hummingbirds, bees and butterflies.  There all more lily plants that I hope will come back: Asiatics that have those wonderfully fragrant blooms, with the dark maroon throat.

I think the only thing I paid full price for was a lantana, that I am not sure survived the cold we had back in January. It has gotten pretty weedy lately, after all this drenching rain we have had, so I need to go and put in a little time getting the undesirables under control.  The course has irrigation, but I don't think the sprinklers cover the entire area I have planted stuff, so some might not thrive or even survive if we don't continue to get sufficient rainfall. I did some watering last spring to get them started, but my intention was for them to be very low maintenance, learn to be independent, survive without much help.