Our Christmas letter to you

Christmas Letter 2012

It actually is more than just a 2012 letter. It really begins in October of 2011 when we flew to Birmingham, England. Our friends there in England, Chaulky and Christine White, John Paterson, and Jenny Insch met us and we toured England, France, and Spain. We spent the first two weeks in England and Scotland in search of Chris, Natasha, and Dr. Who. Scotland was very nice having stayed in downtown Glasgow. We found ourselves constantly closing down a curry house at 2AM and weaving ourselves home.

 

     We then set out on the epic adventure to France and Spain. The continental part of the tour was done in “Betsy” aka the “Fun Bus”. She was a 28 foot Hymer motorhome that got an amazing 24 MPG. A good thing, too, as diesel was $8.50 a gallon. The five of us fit in there pretty well. After 7 weeks and 4,000 miles later, we were still friends.

 

     Our first week was in a “Green Gite”, in Brittany. This house had full solar power and ecosystems galore. We ate tons of French bread and breton butter, and wine, wine and more wine. Ahh! Totally wonderful. We found a grand recipe for chestnut cake and made it from the dropped chestnuts around the house. Yummy! We shopped in the small villages nearby and found Brittany to be one of the best parts of France.

     We then traveled inland to a restored farm house in the middle of nowhere...we laughingly called it being in turnipville. While there was, of course, a grand chateau, we stayed in a very nice farmhouse. It was a very quiet and tranquil time. We rested a couple of days here.

We then drove south into Armagnac country. Here we stayed with my friend Libby Leyrer, who I have known since she was a teen and I a young mother to two girls. She is family. She has 20 some acres here which she has turned into guest housing, rentals and her photography studio. There are wonderful towns and hot springs all around the area. We met many of her artist friends. Had a delightful sunny visit in their homes including a great dinner and homemade fois gras.

 

     Next we headed to Spain because 13 of our friends from the states were going to be meeting us at another farm house on the coast near Trafalgar. On the way, we camped in the middle of cities, on the outskirts of towns, in open fields, and behind a large department store in the middle of town...with a McDonald's. McDonald's became the place to be for all travelers. The biggest reason is they had the fastest WI-FI around. And it's easy. Log in ONCE in France and you are good for the whole country. Then you can do the same in SPAIN. You are automatically logged in for the entire country. I would never have believed I would ever be thrilled to see Mickey D's but they are a haven for travelers from all countries, not just the US.

     We stopped in Madrid to see the Prado museum. It was amazing, and certainly justified several days to view properly. It has the largest collection of paintings in the world. We were dizzy as we left. On arrival, there was a special moment with street musicians and performers, A live performance by Edward Scissorhands and the “Invisible man”. A special moment for me, personally.

 

     After leaving the Prado and heading back to the bus station, we exited the subway and found signs advertising a Jazz concert in town. One of our friends, Lizz Wright, was one of the performers on tour. Look her up. We knew she was going to be touring in Spain and that our schedules didn't coincide. Bummer. Still...what a thrill to see her advertised in Madrid.

 

     Days later we were the first to arrive at the hacienda and began preparing a meal for the weary travelers from the states. Upon arrival, we were met by the most lovely cow guarding the front gate. She was cream in color with the sweetest of eyes. I wanted to hug her (Sue).

     The house was able to hold the 14 of us and was very comfortable. There were orange trees around the house and in the courtyard where we had breakfast. Unbeknownst to us the house also came with a cacophony of roosters. They came in three different varieties, 4 am, 5 am, and 6 am. Thank god for the wooden shutters over our windows.

 

     As evening was coming on and each person had their drink in hand we gathered around the tables in the courtyard. The sun was going down and a big full moon was rising. Jill's sister went up on the roof and started dancing on the ledge. Her shadow was projected onto the far wall across from us. It was a magic moment watching the shadow dance she wove for us.

It was a very full week with trips to Gibraltar and the local roman ruins. The day we spent in Cordoba was really nice. We went to the cathedral which was so large they could fit a mosque inside. We saw some exquisite moorish architecture. In the courtyard we came across a dove in the fountain which seemed to follow us everywhere.

 

     Each day we would return and share evening meals and have great talks around the large fireplace until bedtime. Finally, it was time to leave. It was sad to see everyone leave even though we would reunite in the states in a month. We would NOT, however, miss the rooster chorus.

 

     Now the 5 of us returned to the “fun bus” and headed back toward South France. We made a brief stop (for the second time) to see Las Setas “the mushrooms” in Seville. A monumental wooden structure built over some newly discovered roman ruins. Sue and I took a light lunch there.

     We then wound our way through the mountain roads crossing over the Pyrenees to find our grand daughter Marjorie, who was working as an au pair in France. The town we are looking for is named Sost, their family name. The Sost family has been making cheese for over 400 years. We did find them and were heartily welcomed by Marjorie. We had the whole restaurant set aside for us and enjoyed a delicious meal that she had prepared. It was great and our family hosts brought out drinks and desserts. Later, we were shown where the newborn lambs were kept and the Great Pyrenees puppies (very large).

 

       We leave here once again with regret and joy of the new friends we have all made. We are now heading toward Jean Paul's, our niece's father's place for an evening of wine and Cassoulet, South France's most famous dish. The meal is fit for kings and queens. Nothing is spared. All the family comes including Marjorie as she was able to take the evening off. It is November, and Thanksgiving for us at home has come and gone. But we have much to be thankful for here, too. Christmas is fast approaching. As our last stop before going to the coast at Calais we decided to spend the evening in Chartres and visit the Cathedral. We made our McDonald's stop to get the lay of the land and family news. All the roads in the downtown are lined with trees. Everywhere we see the signs of Christmas. Here the trees are dressed in light blue lights as if they were upside down umbrellas. Imagine walking to the cathedral with large soft snowflakes falling through the lighted square. It gives me the chills. The twin spires are a welcoming sight to see through the mists, all directing us to the Cathedral. It is evening and there is a fog all around it. JUST like it is in the painting.

 

      When we arrive there is a service being held and we moveinside, among the columns. A tenor is singing a passage andthen being answered by a chorus. The time, the place, the magic. WOW. We came out of this massive cover into the cold misty night, wrapped in tranquility and awe. Drinks anyone?

 

     The next day we took the ferry across the channel to England. We went to see Handel's Messiah (all six of us) in Symphony Hall, Birmingham where it was first performed in England, with Handel directing. Then, an evening in Lord Chamberlain's home for a traditional Wassail celebration. It was the hottest ticket in town. Christine had to buy the tickets in June.

     Greg and I spent a week with John and his friend Jenny near Oxford. Of course, no visit would be complete without a trip to Stratford upon Avon to see the Royal Shakespeare Theatre. And then … the day came for departure and we arrive home on the 15th of December.

     Our year of 2012 is much like those weeks before Christmas...a blur of events trying to be in two places at once. In March, Greg installed our solar system, so power outages are a thing of the past. Then in April we took our annual trip to the outer banks with our friends John and Christy Cahill and their two boys, and our neighbors Wezel and Denise. I made a salad bowl I had been wanting to do for years. A great experience. It worked out rather well for a beginner.

 

     In May we had our cousin Marci come visit along with two young college students, Denean and Mel from the University of Florida. Mel came to work in one of Catherine's programs, and the other, Denean came for a summer internship with a graphic design firm. Her mother was a fellow staff from Stone Soup School days. Plus, of course, Tristan was still living with us. A full house. We learned a lot about Vegan cooking. Our kitchen, bathroom and outside decks were gardens for wheat grass and sunflower sprouts. Those sprouts are the bee's knees. I miss them.

 

     We had Devon up for a week. He is 10, and our youngest grandson. He called it BAMMY CAMP. It was a total delight. He, with Greg's guidance, disassembled three 10 speed bikes and made two of them work again. He had found them over the bank in front of our yard. From this point on he was riding up and down the mountain. Brakes would come later.

 

     His sister was in Equador working with Ecuador Animal Rescue Center for 5 weeks. Her first week was in Quito for language school and the rest in the Amazon. We spent months doing cupcake fundraisers in order to pay the shelter for her lodging and food. She raised $800. I was nervous about her going. She did just fine and came back with friends from around the world.

 

     Tristan, was head life guard with Blue Ridge Assembly all summer. Not too much of his music but it helped him learn more about the area and what and who to see in the music field.

Greg had a grand garden and introduced Mel into the world of baking bread. The two of them were making lots of bread weekly (20+ loaves). Vegans can eat a lot of bread.

 

     I continue to write and now have 54 pages of autobiographical material down from my years in Winter Park and what led to the next 10 years of Stone Soup School. I love the discovery of my old journals and being given this opportunity to share my adventures.

 

     This year's Thanksgiving, Marjorie is now here with her beau Micheal Fought, past student, past staff and extended family member. Cecile and Colt are also here. It was her father and grandmother who fed us the King's meal outside of Toulouse, France. Lisa and Catherine and their families where here together, too. We get to see the Valdosta family a lot of late. They come once a month to visit with Archie. He is doing OK, not great but he is good in spirit and mind.

 

     As we remember the blue lights on the trees, as beacons showing us the way, we are reminded of just how fortunate our lives have been.  We hope that this Christmas and the year ahead, will be the same for you, your families, and your friends. 

 

Blessings to all of you from all of us.

 

Sue and Greg

i am back....

omg. i am looking back over this blog and see it stopped the summer of 2010. why? because on Colt,my nephew's birthday party aug. 20th his 35th...i slipped going down his bank of wet evening dued grassy sloppe and whish...i slipped and heard a load crack. ugh...end results...a broked right tibia. Needless to say the whole party changed.  I and the cake were brought inside.  We did the singing eating bit and then the men of the family helped carry be of to the car and to home. That was a Friday. On Monday, I had it x-rayed and even though we thought it could be a sprang.  It was NOT.  Two days later...I had a plate and pins.  Gratefully I had a numbing potion which kept me from feeling any pain or discomfort.  I call the potion my dinisoar egg.  It housed in a black pouch which when I was up I wore around my neck. Yea for new methods of pain control.

 I have had tons of adventures since then.  you will hopefully be entertained by some of the items which came from this event.

if you can call this type of event a blessing...it has been a time of researching the archieves of my own library.  Books I have always wanted to be more a part of but never stopping to do so. 

It began with reading, actually reading the print in the "Book House Books" six volumes. Look them up.  They were printed in the 1920s.  Were an attempt to help young readers have a solid foundation of the world's literature of the times.

 I had only looked at the pictures. The art in these pieces took me everywhere and influenced my clothing designs.  They are mainly central European outfits.  And the stories are our history of our forbearers.  We of the 30s on were told these stories over and over again. Disney has used them.  more later. lv sue

critter day with devon

I went to pick up devon on sunday before i usually go to the uu church.  he was in the garden...there he stood "bammy, there is a dead bunny right here in the path." I hugged him as we both looked at it.  "What should we name it?, he asked.  we settle for scampper, however, he did not live up to his name.  Devon had already looked and knew it has been bitten by, he thought, a cat. Now devon is 8 and he was going to do the right thing. we must bury it.  He  ran for the shovel.  off to the side of the path he dug a hole and in went scamper. he covered him and then run up to the porch to get a cement statue of a cat.  this was to be the headstone.

now it was time for us to leave for my house.  we did have time to make it to church so i asked if he wanted to go.  "Bammy, i was just trying to get out of going to see houses with mom and dad, it is so boring for a kid", i laughed and said sometimes it is for grownups, too. 

when we arrived at the house, our friends had brought their oldest son over to do yard work for us.  they were busy talking and the son was already at work. their youngest decided he wanted to work, too. so he went into our garden to pick up papers and things greg had left around.  He found a box turtle.  he brought it over for devon.  oh, this was big...we now had it on the deck.  devon asked me for a cheese grilled sandwich and then would I come out onto the deck and "observe" max the turtle with him.  I asked "do you want to take notes?", "no", he said we will just "observe" and see what he will do.  Soon, the other lad who had brought the turtle found a large snail.  It was placed on the glass table.  we were now "observing" both.  who would come out of their shells frist and where would they go when they did.

well max the turtle was first. he headed for the house part of the deck. moved rather quickly we saw.  "who would win the race?, Bammy" he mused with me.  We thought the turtle would, i thought if he did not stop to eat the snail, i thought to myself.

we got side tracked on a lizard which he missed, when he looked up to see now snail.  snail was under the glass upside down.  devon decide he would put the snail on our jag which was parked just feet from the deck. 

he place snail on the trunk.  snail headed for the back window.  max in the mean time was headed for the kitchen door and closing in on the front of the deck which was near the garden where he had come from. 

by now devon in the car and has opened up the sunroof.  snail is fast approaching the opening. so devon give him a lift to the window screen.  soon i see only the half of him because he is leaning over the front window being held by his legs against the headliner as he is "observing" the descent of the snail going down onto the hood of the jag.

after it got to the middle of the hood, devon in quickly out of the car to see where he goes from the hood.
Ok now it is time for racing snail to come to the deck and be put on a pedistal of bricks where max the turtle is back in his shell and not moving.

greg came out and asked him if he would like to earn some money picking cabbage worms from the cabbage. Eyes light up and a quick "yes" pops out...so with small pail in hand, he heads for the gardern. 

he is out there happily busy finding the little beings, and counting as he goes. g is paying by the worm. Devon is up to 25 cents.  being the quick business man he is becoming he decides a penny a catapillar is not enough for the "hard" work he is doing. 

he comes onto the poarch to show off the amount he has and our friend dimas is telling to go show them to his wife.  she is sternly telling devon to not do this and dimas is laughing because he know she is not a friend to worms and catapillars.  I have not seen this type of enterchange with them before.  funny to see dimas so frisky.

soon the lure of money wanes as max is now out again and heading to the brick mound where the snail is.  there is only a small area between the bricks and the edge of the deck.  somehow i know max is going there and he is too big not to fall over unto the ground below.  sure enough he does go there and yeppers over he goes.  devon is right beside him.  he places him near the jag to see if he will go to the garden.  he doesn't.

devon decides to take back to the garden and places max in the cabbage patch. young dimas the worker son helps devon lift a 4 x 8 sheet of plywood which is devon's way for chasing lizards and what does he fiind? a snail village.  wow and we are into it now.  there are now 7 big snails on the deck with lizards coming right behind them.  the lizards thought are being house in a pail that devon has sprayed with water so they can not climb out.  thought this was clever.

soon we have a praying matis which in mantis size looks to be about 8 years in size. he too goes into a container.  oh, dear devon has found a centipede now to.  as if he has put out a magic wand critters are turning up faster and faster.

it is now 5 pm and time to go back home.  I am not sure where the snails went, the praying matis was let loose, the centipede goes with us. and we are heading to devon's house.

greg is taking young dimas home. so i talk with the p's for awhile.  when greg come back and we are leaving devon says to g, "time for my caterpillar money."  greg give him a dollar, devon says how about another, that was hard work...yes?  you guessed it..he got the other dollar.

anniversary day outing

We woke and checked our emails and one of our friends, joe, had put in a video of a young man playing the accordian it was the anniversay waltz - had greg in tears.  touching and i think he is really homesick for all things polish right now.  he is a baking fool, with polish pastries and this am mixing up a serbian hamburger reciepe he found on the web. it had to sit all day to meld the flavors...two parts beef, one part lamb, one part pork, garlic, and paprika, hot. Best burger we ever ate.  Condiments NOT needed.

     so after dancing around to the waltz we took off for tryon, nc.  drive was through lake lure, active now and across I-26 and on into the wee town.   a drive thru and whoops we are on the other side. turned around and found a blueberry pancake house. so breakfast was here and so were many of the locals retirees. so we listened to their news. two women at the next table kept including us into their conversation. very friendly.

we left well fed on corn beef hash and eggs...and visited a large old style hardware store.  they had wellies for very good price.  this is a horse town so i am sure there is a big need for these to muck about in.  we bought a rake handle and some cotton twine, which i never see anymore. The town has a feeling for me of as if it could be the setting of an agatha christy miss marple village.  I could see me writing one in this place.

after this we headed down to Landrum.  we are now into SC where the gas prices are 25 cents cheaper than NC. we are going to top up here. you betcha...(sarah's one and only contribution to ameica) found the town friendly and good quality shops.  we just ambled around.  there is a wonderful salvage building materials shop facing the highway 176? love the items but OMG not the prices... they are really hallucinating there ... hurts my lust big time.  then because the name is so romatic, i think we headed south to campobello.  there is nothing there....well an amash diner. but geeze...where is everyone....

         so headed back north after filling up the jag with a full tank. it has not had this in a very long while.  visited thrift stores, found jeans for g and shirts he found. new clothes...  by now we are in need of caffine and a sweet. found both in lovely lunch room back in tryon.  they had wonderful looking cakes and scones. raspberry and crumbles.  this was lunch. the place is right next to a wine shop.  La Bouteille.  the lady there told me about the local winerys around there. I asked her how she liked living in tryon.  "Oh, I don't live here, I live in Campobelo."  "You do?" i said.  "Yes, I love it there. there is NOTHING there, nothing to distrube me when I get home. Just me and my family and quiet."

Ahhh I thought. Oh well, so funny when i had been disappointed miles back because there was no fun stuff to do there.  I too like this at our home but never really thought about from her point of view.  I lived out and our work had been just down the road. so it was not a choice of actively seeking the solitude.

it is about 2 ish and we are thinking about heading back to our home. then i see a road with fun big colored iron arrows pointing up a road which would over look the down town area. "Lets try this road." i said. so g, headed up and there it was. the book store I had been thinking about.  I love little book stores and one of the towns should have had one some where but all this morning I had only seen one, which was closed.  I so had wished it open.  It was beside the christian science reading room on the main st. in tryon. 

i felt as if all had just fallen into place. The bookshelf -- betsy goree, the owner was there happily doing whatever...and we were the only ones in there.  "Why are you not on main st. I have been looking for a shop like this all over our travels today", she laughed and said" all my customers know where i am and the really curious visitors find me."  it is across from the post office so i guess it does get the traffic she needs. 

We got into books and mysteries and started trading authors for each other try out.  arthur upfield and james d doss were my contributions and she told me of an author on self pub. your own book.  fun time. greg went to sleep in the comfy chair in the back room where the children books are.

well stoked on this little gem of a book store we headed home.

there was a package at home from calif. filled with special teas...from a friend who knew i would appreicate this. lovely to come home to.

   we did up dinner and opened the special laid back for sp. times bottle of red wine my son-in-law had bought up for us the week before. so it is breathing while g does up the polish bergers.

    we ate them with fresh onions from our garden, sauteed on top of the burger which was going to be as if it were a steak, no bun or mustards and the ususal fixings...it was wonderful...like nothing i have ever tasted. the taste lingers on and i want more soon. wow what a neat food adventure.. easterns europe it getting closer.

   later, i walk out to sit on the deck to just enjoy the evening coming on...and there coming up the drive way is a back door neighbor. I went wow, what a surprise, he said "i thought you saw me." "no, i was just coming out to enjoy the outside."  greg comes out to join us and we sit and talked.  watched the all most full moon emerge over the distant trees down the valley across the road, listened to the whip-poor-wills. and talked about how we love hearing them and the owls.  "how are the baby chickens" "doing well, in their own pen now and growing very fast." he said.

       the moon is topped out now and our neighbor, says time to walk back up the hill to his house and we get up to retreat into our house.   such a pleasant day and ending with friends and begining with a friend's anniversay waltz.  it was as if we had gently waltzed through our day....

Dad's Garage

I think he was a part of the flapper era. Not that he was a “dandy” but he probably knew a few. The women I have seen pictures of were certainly part of the upper party set, or so they seemed to me. I was a child but this is how they came across to me. Now, how he met my mother, I do not know. I never asked them…I know she was going to college in Fredericksburg, Va., and they met there.

What I saw growing up was his delight and dedication to tinkering…with engines of any sort. One which never worked for long was the one with the little gas motor. The plane was about three feet long, but I hardly ever saw the two together. He would have the motor locked down in a vice and he would turn the propeller planes endlessly…the sounds of the sputter and the near starts, the catching to the gas energy -- it would roar into life and it looked like SUCCESS… then… no sound.


The process would start again.

The smell of the gas became familiar…smelled like race car smells. I found out later that the fuel is methanol with a touch of nitromethane.  Definitely race car stuff.

Perhaps it was the smells of racing cars which kept him at this project so often…once I did see the two parts together - the motor inside the plane. It went up and up and the wonderful buzzing sounds filled the air. Rapture. Of course this did not last long. With no dignity at all crashed into the ground.

Dad never seemed to mind these no runs and crashes. He would just begin again.

Then there were the austins and the crosley. These were totally fun. With engines in or without, it did not matter. My brother Lewis and I would get the neighborhood kids to be the engine and one of us would steer while all the rest had to push. We would push and steer this car out of our long driveway, all around a full block and then down our driveway again. Probably a near mile. I do not remember any adult ever telling us we could not do this.

Ahh, the thrill of 8 to 10 year old kid power…

I remember once our goats got into one to the crosley’s and eat up my dad’s papers and part of a leather jacket. They were If and And cute little critters.

One of the Austins had little flipper turn signals which were in the door jam and when you would turn right side the right side would flip up and left side for left turns. And the doors would open in such a way you could make a little room and have a secret opening. They call them suicide doors now. You could stand in the center of the side of the car and put both hands on each door handle and pull each one open like French doors open. Why they were dangerous I do not know.

Time moved forward and different cars came into our family. The Nash. This car had a back seat which the back would be able to be pulled up. It had belting on each side where the back and seat part were, on the loop belt was a strong metal ring on it. This you would hook onto a hook between the front door post and then you could make a two people bed, or three kids. For us, dad and mom had the bed, one of us slept up on the back over them and them one in the front. We even had clip on screens for the windows. Total fun, I thought.

Every other year we got a new Nash. We would be told the evening it was coming in. Mom would tell us the new car was coming. We would all go out to view the new addition to the family.
I can see my dad now in his coveralls and a light weight scull cap on working in the cool darkish garage. I can smell the smell of the grease and the cars themselves. I liked being around him doing these jobs. Today my husband, Greg does just this same thing only he make a living doing this. We are both car junkies and love different cars, mostly European models

When I started this bit on my dad, I had no idea it would be about cars and engines and motors, but it is. He was so much more too, however I think the car was his passion and I think I have him with me and this passion when I am around the car and all it takes to keep one.

This was the one place he was him…not a dad, not a salesman, not a husband, or son. This was his world and his time of renewal, his meditation and peace. The part of him which bonded him to the earth and his place in it.

piece on dad

well i was going put up a piece i did on my dad...it was fun remembering things about him, however, i do not know how to pull it from one file to this blog yet.  my husband, greg, is working on it..

at any rate our group meets tomorrow and one of our group spent the weekend at a zen retreat where they did not talk the whole weekend.  there will be a piece on this subject of what was gotten out of this by this member.  looking forward to hearing about this.

g and i are about to take off for a day's outing to tryon, nc.  see what a day trip there turns up. s

autiobio part 2

We started out our sessions writing at least 2 pages on different topics which we had chosen.  The book our guide used was-telling the stoires of life through "guided Autobiography groups" by james birren and kathryn cochran. 
 
in this topics and how to approach a subject were laid out.  Some of the ones we used were: our family, how we view money,  our health, etc.

I remember on the one about money one our members read hers and remarked how she had had no idea she viewed money the way she did.  It was a total surprise to her.  This type of thing has happened a lot in our group's meetings. 

we are a varied lot.  our ages are 60 to 85, so there is tons of life lived to draw on.  We have nuns, biologists, artists, social workers,educators and all manners of ways each of us is creating our way we voice our views of ourselves.

as we have grown it also seems each of our views seems to expand the views of our group in a way which helps each of us view our own individual experience... to see it differently or find our common ground. 

It has made us look forward to our next installment... like a tv series.  "what next"," to be continued".


Some of our group do not write that much but verbally experiment with what they have seen or gone through.  Poetry we are seeing is a profound method for one of our members.  It is amazing the effect it has on all of us when this person shares the poems with us.  We can see it, feel it and understand a way of seeing the essence of an event.

One poem was so clever it was a date with "freecell" the computor game-like solitaire.  very cute and "yes" for me too this game us so addicting.