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.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Saturday, May 29, 2010
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....
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....
Friday, May 28, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
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
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
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
how i learned to write
Two years ago i began a course on writing my autobiography. it was to have been a 10 weeks experience. our leader told us we could opt for 7 weeks because 10 weeks some thought would be too long. we did not think so but said OK anyway. well, 7 weeks came and we were not ready to stop. we went for three more weeks. ahhh. she was through she said. we said we were not. well, you all could take over and guide yourselves, if you wish. we said we want to. and she said you can continue to met at the community center too, if you wish. we wished. and so this month is our two year anniversary.
this is interesting because my husband and i just forgot our 23rd anniversay last week, but i am dead certain our group will remember our 2nd one. oh well. g and i will make up for this missed event this week.
so why is this. we are still together. i believe the important part is that we read to each other what we write about our memories. when in the beginning we were so large that we devided up into groups of four. it was good to hear about the four but this did not do it. as we are in our little groups i for one wished to be hearing everyone else's, so i was always listening to those others around me who were not in our group. Later as the 10 weeks went by our group got to 12 or 13 and we began to be able to hear everyone in our two hour time period.
i think this is what did it. we have become so into each other's lives that we are so eager to hear the next installment. It isn't just this. We have become aware of our own personal growth through all the remembering and all the encouragement we has given and recieved from each other.
next...more about us. s
this is interesting because my husband and i just forgot our 23rd anniversay last week, but i am dead certain our group will remember our 2nd one. oh well. g and i will make up for this missed event this week.
so why is this. we are still together. i believe the important part is that we read to each other what we write about our memories. when in the beginning we were so large that we devided up into groups of four. it was good to hear about the four but this did not do it. as we are in our little groups i for one wished to be hearing everyone else's, so i was always listening to those others around me who were not in our group. Later as the 10 weeks went by our group got to 12 or 13 and we began to be able to hear everyone in our two hour time period.
i think this is what did it. we have become so into each other's lives that we are so eager to hear the next installment. It isn't just this. We have become aware of our own personal growth through all the remembering and all the encouragement we has given and recieved from each other.
next...more about us. s
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