The Right Container

For a good two decades I have needed reading glasses. It came as quite a shock when my 20/10 vision was not so perfect. I first noticed in a shower in a hotel with tiny lavender shampoo bottles with light purple writing. Was this bottle body wash, or shampoo? Lotion or conditioner? The lack of good lighting or contrast in the mice type on the bottles meant I was clueless as to what I was doing to my hair.

So began my affair with reading glasses and ultimately the chains I wore them on so I had them with me at all times.

Nothing about reading glasses and their accessories is long lasting. No matter the price they all fail, but given the number of hours of wear and tear it’s no wonder. The worst thing is that manufacturers don’t carry the same styles year after year and I am often in search of a replacement for a broken beloved model.

Tonight the little rubber loop that holds my chain on the arm of the glasses broke. This has happened before. I have bought replacements for those things, so I went searching in my bedside table.

What I found was a collection of glasses and chains that may or may not be useful still. I found eleven pairs of glasses and four chains and I didn’t really go deep into the back of this skinny little drawer, I had no idea I had this collection, given that I also have lots of other things like nail clippers and sewing kits and floss dispensers also in this drawer.

I guess this is a new opportunity to organize something which will involve trying to find exacting the right container and find a place to put it. To think I just organized all my sparkle floss cards for my needlepoint fibers. It only took me two years to find the right container for those.

Blissful Youth

This photo came up in my memories today. It is of me, my sisters Margaret and Janet and my cousin’s Brooks and Leigh on the front porch at Pawleys Island in August of 1973. Thankfully I had a 1973 shirt on to give evidence of the year. I was 12, Margaret was about to be nine, Brooks was five, Janet was about to be four and Leigh was two.

We spent every August at Pawleys. My father and his only sibling, Wilson and their families. Eventually my cousin Sarah came along on my fifteenth birthday and that completed the six cousins.

Those summers at Pawleys were kid heaven as our father’s made sure we had the most fun possible. We always had a few giant tractor inner tubes with ropes tied around them that we used as group flotation devices along with oblong floats we used to ride the waves.

August was a hot time to be at Pawleys so we were always in the water. My Dad and Will made sure we were strong swimmers and we knew how to dunk under giant waves and body surf smaller ones.

We learned how to dig up sand dollars with our feet and we would crab off the dock on the backwater, using chicken necks tied on string as bait.

At least once a summer Dad and Will would go buy a ridiculous amount of fireworks and would put on a big show on the beach after dinner. We ate watermelon and spit the seeds at each other and played endless hours of board games.

Will would play the guitar and my Dad would play the ukulele and we would all would sing. “Joy to the World” (the three dog night version) and “Let it Be” were regulars in our line up. We also sang old spirituals like, “Will the circle be unbroken” with all the right harmonies.

We had the cousins, Mary and Haidee, with their family at their house and friends and other family members who showed up from time to time, like the McIntyres.

We didn’t have a phone or a TV, or air conditioning for that matter. Whatever was happening in the world, we were ignorant of. It was bliss.

Just Praying for Rain

I’m doing a rare weekend mah jongg class away from home. I try and stay home on Fridays and Saturdays, but the demand is so high I just gave in and agreed to teach a sweet group in Greenville. My only consolation about doing this is that it’s been so hot and the lack of rain makes being at home terrible. I look out at my yard and gardens and it breaks my heart.

I don’t water grass. I consider water too precious a commodity to waste it on grass. I do water my gardens, but there is not enough time in the day to water enough to counteract this weather we have been having.

I am praying for rain this weekend and in significant amounts. I am not sure that is going to come true, even in a small way, but lord knows we need it.

There are a lot of things we need right now and lots of to pray for, but I don’t want to think about the the other things so I am going to just concentrate on rain.

The Eighth Deadly Sin

I spend a lot of time with women. Most of my Mah Jongg students are women (although men are catching on to than Mah Jongg is fun.) In a given month I probably spend nine hours with over 450 different women and that is only counting students, not friends. One trait I encounter in almost every class is at least one student who I can identify as a perfectionist. I guess I should call them an aspiring perfectionist (AP), because no one is perfect.

First I have to say I am really proud of these AP’s because they are attempting to learn something new in a group setting. That is terrifically hard on someone trying to achieve perfection. When you learn something new you are vulnerable, before you are proficient.

To learn requires failing, because you learn best from your mistakes.

Perfectionists often quit before they fail. Quiting is not seen as big a failure by them. Not being great at something quickly is seen as failure, and it should not be. To be good, not even great, at Mah Jongg takes practice. Being great does not ever promise perfection. No one is perfect at Mah Jongg, that is what makes it an interesting game.

Teaching perfectionists takes a huge amount of patience on my part. These people want to know the one right answer quickly. What hand should they play? What tiles should they pass? What hand can they change to since ONE of the tiles they needed has been discarded.

Trying to teach patience to perfectionists is my most practiced skill. At this point I should become some Buddhist monk.

What I really wish is that people could learn to give up on perfectionism. I see very little benefit in being one and so much heart ache in trying to achieve the unachievable.

Spending time to go from being 50% good at something to 70% is probably good enough to be happy. But to go from being 98% good at something to 100% is never going to happen and you will make yourself miserable over 2%. Perfectionism should be considered the eighth deadly sin. It is probably equal to sloth, which at least has a cute animal named after it.

Yeah for the Wilmington Food Bank

I’m in Wilmington teaching. Since I finished class at 3:00 I decided to run by the new branch of the Food Bank. I was involved in raising money for this ground breaking branch and was unable to come to the grand opening.

Although the Branch Director Beth was not in I had three different staff members show me around. The big thing I wanted to see was the teaching kitchen. I had been advocating for a teaching kitchen for years. It makes the most sense in Wilmington because they make meals that can be frozen and brought out for emergencies, like hurricanes.

It is a more impressive operation than I had even dreamed of. I met one of the students to in the culinary training program. She was loving learning chef skills. It is a win-win because she learns how to cook, while making emergency meals and at the end of the training can be hired by a local restaurant or food service organization. I was so happy to see years of dreaming come to fruition.

Appreciative Receiver

I don’t tend to needlepoint for people who are not stitchers. People that don’t needlepoint have no understanding of the time and cost that goes into each piece. A fellow stitcher said she has now adopted the same policy when she went to the home of close friends she had gifted many personalized ornaments. She looked at their Christmas tree, up and down in and out, none of her gifts were displayed. She looked all over the house to see if they were hung on a special display. Nothing. She asked about them and was told, they didn’t “match.”

I feel a little bit the same way when it comes to vegetables I have grown. Non-gardeners see a gift cucumber as a .99¢ gift. They have no appreciation for what it takes to grow that cucumber. It’s not about its value on the open market, but actually the sweat that goes into it.

So today when my plumber John called to ask me if I were home, I knew he might be bringing me some okra. For years I have learned a lot about gardening from my plumber brothers. They have given me seedlings they had grown and I cherish them as I try an honor the gift that they are.

When I came home today I found not just Okra, but tomatoes and potatoes from John. I don’t grow potatoes and did not put okra in this year, which he knew. My tomatoes aren’t ripe yet so all these vegetables are an appreciated gift. John knows that I, as a fellow gardener, know what went into to growing these beauties. What a thoughtful gift.

Now don’t get me wrong. You don’t have to have your own garden for me to give you something I have grown. I just have to know you actually want it and will eat it. The worst thing is to grow something and have it get thrown away. At least I won’t be looking through your house to see if the green beans I gave you are displayed.

Dog Temperature is 101.5

Shay was out of sorts yesterday. She didn’t eat, which is not unusual for her. Lately she’s been on an eat one day and not the next diet. Of course she keeps her girlish figure no matter how much she eats or doesn’t.

Her issue yesterday, scratching her face, and going outside every two hours got worse through the night. Russ took Shay duty and was up with her every half an hour. Finally at 6:00 I took her and he got a tiny amount of sleep.

I called the vet the second they opened and even though they didn’t have any appointments they said to bring her over and drop her off and they would work her in. For five hours she didn’t pee once while there despite being taken out every half an hour. Why is this what dogs do at the vets?

The vet eventually got a sample manually, which I am sure Shay was greatly insulted by. The diagnosis was not complete, but they wanted her to come home to help relieve her “I don’t like being at the vet” anxiety. So I ran right over to pick her up, but the vet was closed for a meeting, except for me.

On the door was a note to “Shay’s Mom.” I called the number and got an Indian man who proceeded to talk to me about Shay, even though it was a wrong number. I knocked on the window and finally the tech came and let me in and reunited me with my poor girl.

I was instructed to take her temperature, yes rectally, so we could see if her elevated temp at the vet was white coat syndrome and not actual sickness. I needed Russ to help me do this and thankfully her temp was 101.7. 101.5 is normal dog temp, never knew that before, but then again I have never taken her temperature before.

She came home and drank two bowls of water, which was two more than she drank yesterday. They had given her a shot for itching, which she gets annually about this time of year. We hope that is all that she needs because Russ has to sleep tonight as he has a 5:00Am flight tomorrow, so I am night nurse. As long as I don’t have to take her temp alone I think we will be fine. She seems much calmer than yesterday.

Green Bean Season

Somewhere in my garage shed is my rolling garden cart. You know what it is a little bench you can sit on, while working in the garden. I can’t seem to find it, despite my need for it.

Since I was away most of last week, my garden did not get picked. My green beans grew and grew. I needed to harvest if I wanted edible beans. Bending over to do it was not my favorite. Despite my raised beds, they are not so tall that one doesn’t have to bend way over to pick.

I asked Russ to fetch Carter’s little Peter Rabbit step stool. Turns out it was the perfect height for me to sit beside the beds and pick to my hearts content. I filled my whole garden basket with yummy green beans.

Thank goodness we never got rid of the little peter rabbit stool. I am thankful to have it, but still would like to find my rolling stool and before green bean season passes.

Rest In Peace Russ Morash

Although I did not know him, I adored Russ Morash, who died on Thursday. Morash was the creator of four of the biggest TV shows on PBS, The French Chef, This Old House, Victory Garden and Ask This Old House. He was the one who thought that Julia Child could host a cooking show, when other’s did not. Cooking shows did not even exist. This Old House, was the first DIY home show and thanks to Morash we have Food TV and HGTV. He was years ahead of everyone else and he made superior TV shows on a PBS budget.

It was my Russ, who really turned me on to the other Russ. When we first got together he insisted we never miss an episode of This Old House. This was back in the days of live TV because no one really knew how to tape shows on their VCR’s. Through my whole marriage we have seen every episode of This Old House at least three times. We started with Bob Villa as host, moved to Steve and now Kevin and I have to say we like Kevin best. They were all thanks to Morash.

He has been retired from WGBH in Boston, home to these productions, but the shows lived on and in very similar ways to his original programs. Get likable experts to teach real skills, have a non-expert host who can ask all the pertinent questions so the audience had someone they could relate to and do good projects was his model.

I didn’t always love the houses, or the homeowners, but I always learned what was the best way to do home renovations and repairs. This knowledge has served me well in life. I often can fix things myself, thanks to This Old House, I learned what I should not attempt to fix and I gained the vocabulary to talk to repair people so they can’t bamboozle me.

One example was the time we got a new gas cook top to replace an old one. The exact same size cooktop was no longer made. I bought one that was very close to the same size. When the installer came and discovered that the cook time was 1/2 an inch too shallow for the opening he looked at me and said we would have to replace our beloved 70 year old stainless steel counter tops.

That was not even a consideration. I told him that I would just go get a folded edge piece of stainless steel that could be a filler and he could install the appliance on top of it. It worked perfectly. No one who comes to my house notices that the folded piece is not part of the stove.

That kind of creative problem solving in home situations is exactly what I learned thanks to Russ Morash. I am thankful that he stayed at WGBH for his whole career and made good shows that stand the test of time. Rest in peace Russ Morash.

Driving Addictions

I spend a lot of time driving to various towns to teach Mah Jongg. In the summer I am back and forth to the beach, which depending on which beach is usually a three hour drive. Since my car can practically go on its own I like to listen to books on audible. There is nothing better than a well written book performed by a talented reader. The best readers are like the best actors, able to play all the parts.

Besides enjoying a fabulous book, I love to talk on the phone to far off friends and family as I drive. Talking on the phone is a lost pastime and that is sad because it was my best skill as a younger person.

I was lucky enough to have a free long distance card thanks to my father’s connection to many phone companies. So when I was a just graduated twenty something during the terrible recession of the early 80’s, I could call all my far off friends for free and talk for hours. As poor young adults it was good entertainment to get to gab into the night. I often would talk to my friend Hugh in Miami as we would watch the same TV show in our own respective cities.

Nowadays it is practically rude to call someone without first texting them to see if they are available. It must be what it was like when the phone was first invented and people stopped dropping by theirs friends homes. Today it would be shocking for someone to come by unannounced or uninvited. That is almost what phoning someone is like.

On my drive home from the beach today I was listening to a book my dearest friend Suzanne had recommended. A very funny phrase came up and I wanted to discuss it with her and didn’t want to forget it. Since I was driving and did not want to text I did the audacious thing and called her.

My call went to voice mail, no surprise, but not five minutes later she called me back. We had a great gab fest for over an hour. It made my drive go by so quickly and enjoyably. I told her I was going to stop at the farmers market on my way home as we were saying goodbye, but when I hung up I realized I had passed it six exits before. No going back.

So I turned my book back on and listened the rest of the way home in pure happiness. Between the book and the call I felt like my drive was not a chore, but a highlight of my day.

Making New Friends Never Gets Old

On the last day of mah Jongg classes I am always a little sad. In the three days I have taught a group I get to know the students and adore them. This is especially true for beyond beginner classes because it is such an interactive fun give and take.

I love seeing how people progress and develop strong friendships with each other. The camaraderie and celebration for each other gives me hope that we are still a country full of kind and generous people. If everyone would just play mah Jongg together we would have a lot fewer problems in the world.

I owe a big thank you to Page Littlewood for hosting the beyond class and Annette Williamson for hosting me. There is nothing more restorative for me than having a comfy bed and a quiet space.

It was a bonus today to get to hang on Annette’s front porch and watch the boats on the water. I had a pair of doves come and sun themselves while I was out there. It was idyllic.

I know I have had a fun week when I lose my voice, as I did today. Thankfully it wasn’t totally gone so I could still teach. For someone who talks for a living, I talked an extra amount this week.

I’ll be back in July. I can’t wait to see all my beginners from this week in the beyond class then. Making new friends never gets old.

Too Much Fun

I am running out of time, battery and juice to write my blog tonight and it’s all Page Littlewood’s fault. We had a Big time at her house tonight with a beyond Beginner class. Page gathered a most fun group of people to spend three evenings learning how to be better players.

She set up her house as a perfect mah jongg parlor and everyone enjoyed food and drink while we learned. It got to the point that if all four tables guessed the right answer they got to drink. This turned learning into a great drinking game. It was hard to tell if their analysis improved with each sip or improved because they wanted a sip.

After class a few of us stayed and George joined us as we talked all about Durham and how much we love it, even when quirky things happen.

We stayed much too late leaving me mere minutes to write and post and only single digits of battery life left on my iPad after pulling up so many mah Jongg hands for class.

It is hard to beat the beauty of Beaufort, with the shrimp boats coming in as the sun was going down. But the people are the true jewel of this wonderful town. I could have stayed up and talked all night, but my early morning students might not be happy about that. Now I need to find a way to wind down quickly after such a fun night.

I Always Make It

No matter how insane my schedule is I always make it. You can almost always do more than you think you can do. When I think about people living in the middle of war zones, who survive. Or people who fall into deep caverns and are not discovered for days and days and they are still alive.

For me, getting up at five in the morning, driving three hours and teaching three classes is nothing compared to those cavern survivors. The big difference is I have food and water and air conditioning. Why should anyone think I might not make that schedule.

I started the morning at the Doug and Elizabeth Townsend Event Room for the Coral Bay Club. Then I went to a private home to teach.

At least tonight I had the joy at teaching at Page Littlewood’s beautiful Beaufort house. We had a wonderful smart group and Page made Shrimp tacos for everyone.

Now I am coddled in luxury at Annette Williamson’s house, down the block from Page. So one good night’s rest and only two classes tomorrow with no driving very far, easy peasy.

I Should Have Scheduled a Nap

Seven days in a row of non-stoppedness was bad planning on my part. After a fun Boston Weekend I should have scheduled a nap today in advance of my week.

Shay and I both had haircuts today, nothing too stressful in beauty treatments done by others to us. Then I had to prepare for a Food Bank event being held at Russ’ office with us as the hosts. Not that we were doing any of the work, but Russ was concerned about how the office looked. He asked me to come in during the middle of the day to help tidy up.

I got there and looked at him and said, “What the hell needs to be done.” The place was perfect. I did bring him lunch and we ate at the counter, so we had three grains of rice to clean up. I got my car washed and came home to clean up at our house and pack for my work trip tomorrow at 5:00 AM.

Three classes tomorrow after my three hour drive. Thankfully I am listening to the best book, Good Material. (Thanks for the recommendation Suzanne.)

We had a lovely event for the Food Bank and I met a lot of really nice like minded people. Sage and Swift catered it so at least I didn’t have to worry about dinner.

I left Russ with the staff still cleaning up and came home to try and get ready for bed early. It’s going to be a big week. I wish I had gotten in one nap.

Happy Father’s Day

What a blessing I have for the father’s that I have had in my life. First my brilliant and very funny father, Ed. He was always my greatest champion and teacher. Generous to a fault. He always taught me to talk with strangers as if they were friends, friends as if they were family and family as if they were cell mates.

I learned all the bad words I know from him, but of course when I first learned them I did not know they were bad words as they were so frequently used I thought they were normal words. He taught me to cook or more likely demand I learn to cook so someone in the house could do the cooking if he wasn’t there. I got all my work ethic from him and thought everyone worked 15 hour days as the norm. I miss him, but am glad he is not able to vote again.

I was lucky enough to get Russ and have him be the father of Carter. They say you marry your father, but that is not the case as Russ is kind, thoughtful and cerebral in his brilliance. He is like my father in his his generosity and work ethic, but he rarely calls anyone dopes, as my father did often. Russ is wry and witty. Carter got most of her good qualities from him.

One other quality that would describe both my father and Russ as fathers is selfless. Neither had or have hobbies that would take them away from their kids. Both knew that time with your kids can be fleeting so they both spent as much time when they were not working to be with them.

So on this Father’s Day I want to thank heavens for them both. My wish is that all children could have father’s who instilled so much good in them as Russ and Ed did, maybe minus the bad words.

Dorchester/South Shore Day – Seaport Night

We had few plans for our big day together with Carter and Claire. Russ and I started out walking up to Carter’s apartment for one last visit. The window boxes on Mount Vernon St. were worthy of the houses.

Russ loved Carter’s place and I loved that I am to going to have to walk up the five flights of stairs again, especially. To when she has to move out.

We drove to Claire’s building which is also going to be Carter’s when they move into a two bedroom in July. The building is lovely. They have secured assigned parking which is the biggest bonus. We got breakfast from the cute American Provisions cafe next door and ate on their roof deck with Norman, their dog.

If I had ordered the weather I could not have made it better than today. Cool, no humidity, sunny perfection. We decided to take a drive to the south shore, going back roads to Hingham, Cohasset and Scituate. We stumbled upon Cohasset strawberry festival with the community band playing on the village green and the Unitarian Church selling lobster rolls.

Norman Rockwell could have painted up this scene.

Carter and Claire showed us all their favorite homes and neighborhoods. The dream is to have. Shingle style home in one of these places one day. It never hurts to dream.

Because of the Strawberry festival parking nightmare we went on to Scituate and got a snack and walked Norman along the water. I needed a car nap after that.

Tonight Russ and I walked to the Seaport and met the girls at LoLa42 for a special dinner. Carter had told them it was Russ’ birthday. It is not. Still we got nice treatment and a yummy dinner. We walked the fan and enjoyed the last light as it was setting. Such a fun day with our girls.

Let’s Visit Carter for Father’s Day

When asked what he wanted to do for Father’s Day, Russ came back with the best answer. Why not visit the one who made him a father. So off to Boston we went.

Carter is only going to be living on her fancy Beacon Hill street for another month. Russ only visited her apartment once when she first moved there so he wanted to experience it all furnished before she moves out to Dorchester with Claire.

I told Carter that Mt. Vernon St. Might be the nicest street she will ever live on. She told me I was right because the house on the corner of Louisburg square, four doors down, was for sale and it was just under $20M. Definitely the best neighborhood she will ever live in. Getting to live in Beacon Hill has been so much fun.

Carter lucked into her apartment with a wonderful landlord. He only raised her rent $25 from the first year to the second year and apologized for doing that. He made up for it in a big way and raised the rent $700 when he put it on the market when Carter told him she was moving out. He rented it to the first person who saw it, even at a crazy price.

Tonight we went to dinner with Carter and Claire at Myers and Chang. It was so good. The tuna two ways probably the best thing out of many outstanding dishes. It was fun to just be with them. I am going to love this Father’s Day weekend way more than Mother’s Day.

Pray for Rain

We’ve been 7 days without rain and none is in sight for two weeks. This is not a good place to be with my garden. I spent a good two hours working outside this morning. It wasn’t enough, but it was all I could take. It did act as a bonus spa treatment as at least one layer of skin sloughed off from the sweating.

I need a lot more time to water, but am not going to be here much to do it. So I tried to water deep today.

It appears that some animals consider my zinnias a drive through and have eaten all the leaves off a bunch of stems. I may or may not get any zinnias this year.

The vegetable garden started producing green beans. If you want a cheap and fast crop buy green beans seeds. They grow easily and you get a bunch of green beans from each plant continuously.

I also picked the first four cherry tomatoes. I have plenty of tomato plants and not a lot of fruit coming. Tomatoes are the whole reason for the garden. The arugula is out of control. If you want some just come and cut it from the two beds outside the garden. It will grow back.

All I ask for is a little rain, maybe Saturday night if I get to be specific in my prayers. We just can’t go three weeks without rain in this heat. Well we can, but it will be sad.

Broken Into Cary

As regular readers you might know of the many cities and towns where I teach Mah Jongg. I joke with my husband that if I were to break down in any Eastern North Carolina town I would know at least a dozen people I could call for help. And those people would all know a tow truck driver.

Despite my total dominance of Raleigh and Durham, I have never once, in 25 years taught a class in Cary, until this week. I easily have taught over 1,500 people in Raleigh in the last year and only one person from Cary and that was in Beaufort. So when I got a call from this cute business in Cary, Home for Entertaining, I knew it was time to break that Cary spell.

This business is a shop for homewares and bridal registry and a place for events and classes, like cooking and flower arranging. It is run by a darling family and it is just beautiful.

The bonus for me is that since it is not a club, people don’t have to be members to come take classes. I have loved getting to know Cary people. I will be scheduling more classes there, some daytime ones in the fall, since my evening classes in the fall are already booked.

It’s about time the Cary barrier has been breached. I love teaching classes in far off places, but being close to home is the best.

Annual Squishing

I had my annual squishing today. Those awful uncomfortable moments where they squeeze your boobs between two pieces of heavy duty plexiglass with the power of two f-150’s driving toward each other at 99 miles per hour are your best defense against breast cancer going bad.

As I have lived through my friend Jan’s second breast cancer and my friend Kathi’s second breast cancer I know I want to do anything possible not to have to do that. If that means flopping out a naked one and holding my breath so be it.

I feel lucky I have good insurance so I get the 3-d scan. Good thing since these girls are triple D. I got to look at the scans, not that I know anything, but the tech explained the white dots as calcium and the little marker for the place where I had a needle biopsy 14 years ago.

Thank goodness there are good techs who get us through these squish sessions. I will await the radiologist’s report and pray that it is all good news. Don’t put off getting checked.

Cleaning Out Birthday Calendar

It is easier than ever to remember Friend’s and families birthdays. Between Facebook and perpetual calendar reminders I have no excuse. Of course there are those people important enough to me that I know their birthdays without any reminder. Some are childhood friends who I have not seen in years, but still I know their birthdays.

I made a big snafu last month when I let one of my best friend’s birthdays go by for a week. It wasn’t until I was watching Good morning America and they said, “Today is May 30th.” My mind went, “ Oh Shit.” I called and my friend offered me such grace in my missing the birthday. I had no excuse, but I did everything I could to make up for it.

Today I looked at my calendar and I saw that someone who used to be a good friend has a birthday next week. She moved away more than a decade ago and despite my attempts to stay in touch she never reciprocated. This was a good enough friend that we had gone on trips together, but once she lived half a country away it was as if we never met.

I looked at her birthday on my calendar and I decided today is the day I can remove that listing from my perpetual calendar. I have no guilt. I have not seen or heard from her in years, even though we never had any falling out that I knew about. Russ and I still hear from her husband and we get updates on their son, who we adore. She is someone who is fully in the present. Knowing her as well as I did, and her family history, none of this surprised me. Still I kept her in my calendar.

I decided I am not doing a good enough job on the actual friends I love and adore. I am going to clean out my birthday reminders of people I really don’t have a relationship with. Now this actions does not mean I will be better at communicating with people on their Birthdays. That would involve know what day it is right now. Unless I am teaching you mah Jongg, I don’t know what day it is. So please accept my belated birthday wishes when I send them. It’s not you, it’s me.

I chose the Quilt

Friday was a free day for me. I had a choice for the three day weekend I had ahed of me. I could deep clean the house or I could make the baby quilt for the baby that came a month ago. I hadn’t made a quilt since December and I had just cleaned something in my house last week. So quilt it was.

As of Sunday afternoon I designed, cut, pieced, sewed, pressed, trimmed, backed and quilted the whole thing. That leaves just the binding and I can knock that out tomorrow. It was very satisfying to get this sweet boy quilt done.

I was told by the grandmother about the colors they wanted so it’s not terribly baby, but it is for boy. I feel accomplished to get this done in a weekend, but a little guilty, so I m going to go dust the dining room. At least then I can say I cleaned and quilted. I also better go water the garden. Some chores you don’t have a choice about.

A Sad Anniversary

Today I was reminded that a year ago yesterday was the last time I saw my friend Hugh Braithwaite. It was our college reunion weekend. Hugh only came for Friday night.

He joined our gang at the G’man, the bar we hung out at in college which is still the same place we hang out. We spent the evening catching up and then Hugh, Doug and I drove around Carlisle late at night, looking for a place to eat breakfast at 1:00 in the morning.

Carlisle has changed in that no place was open, not like when we used to do the same thing in college. Eventually Doug and I dropped Hugh off at his microtel before going to our AirBnB where we rehashed all the conversations of the evening.

Hugh was leaving just a few hours later to go to a family wedding in DC. He texted us a video of him dressed in a blue raw silk suit dancing and laughing at the wedding. It was so Hugh. Hugh was a great dancer. Sending us a video of him having a great time was a way of saying, “See, I couldn’t stay at the reunion. I had this better offer.”

We had no idea that it was the last time we would see him. He was our elusive friend. The life of the party when he was with us, but in demand everywhere. He always chose to be with his family, and rightfully so. He loved them so much and was so proud of his children.

That last night we were together he told us wonderful stories about the people they had grown up to be. Thanks in no small part to his beloved wife Carolyn. I am so thankful that we had those conversations as our last ones. He had found some higher power.

When I first learned the terrible news of his sudden passing in February the first thing I thought of was how much he loved his family and how happy they made him. He had told me that in those exact words. He didn’t talk about his own success, just theirs. So proud. Just a year ago last night.

Our college gang, Doug, Suzanne and Dave talk or text regularly about Hugh since we were last together at his funeral. Our grief is collective and we lean on each other a lot. I am not sure we will ever get over losing him so early.

Locked In the Sweat Shop

There are not enough waking hours in a week for me to complete all the projects I have to make for gifts. Thankfully I finished the needlepoint pillow I was making in record time, thanks to two rainy weekends. Today I had the day off and I got started on the baby quilt I need to make. I should just make baby quilts every month just to have on hand when a new baby comes along.

I love making baby quilts, which I encourage the mothers to use. Let the baby roll around in the grass on it. Allow them to drag it after themselves as they learn to walk. Let them use it to wrap their puppy up in to pretend it is their baby. My quilts are made to be loved, thrown in the washer and loved some more.

The thing that is wonderful about a baby quilt is I don’t get sick of making it because it is quick to piece. I can also quilt it myself which is fun for me. I know tomorrow might be a nice day outside, but I might be locked in the sweat shop. I got a good start today, let’s see if I can knock this out.

Maria’s Big Thrill

As a teacher the thing that makes me most happy is when I see progress in students abilities. It does not matter where you start, just that you improve.

All my classes for people who are beyond the beginner state try and meet people where they are and move them up a notch. This week I had a wonderful group of beginners at Dunes as well as a most enjoyable group of beyond beginners.

Beyond beginners usually know what to expect from me as a teacher, so they come ready to do their best work. As we go through exercises and the students pick tiles to give away and then we compare their choices to my choice it is very exciting when we all agree on the choice.

Sometimes we don’t agree and I explain why I picked my choice and they explain their thinking. We then have to come to an agreement about what to pass. Most of the time the students defer to my choice, even though I encourage them to challenge me.

Today, in the third day of doing this Maria from Morehead, challenged me and made an excellent case for her choices and I agreed she choice was better than my choice and we went her way. Her excitement was immediate. Beating me was the thrill of the day. Congratulations to Maria. I loved that she had found a better hand than I had. It means my work as her teacher is paying off.

It was a thrilling moment as the teacher. Yeah Maria!

Developing New Mah Jongg Curriculum Perhaps

Staying with my friend Mary Jo means there are a lot of laughs, but also a lot of serious discussion about what the future might hold. Mary Jo is always pushing me to figure out what comes next. She is all about me creating new curriculum for Mah Jongg classes and finding new ways to help people be better players.

I am all about helping people learn “how to think” not “what to think.” In order to figure out what to teach I need to figure out what people are doing wrong or how they are not maximizing every opportunity.

Perhaps I need to do a few focus group/game playing opportunities where I watch people playing and try and see the patterns in what is difficult so I can create a class that teaches to those issues.

If you want to volunteer to come play Mah Jongg at my house, or have me come to yours and let me watch you play it might help me flesh out a new mah Jongg course. Not that I am not already busy teaching the classes I have, but there are so many people like Mary Jo who want to constantly be learning. It could be like Mah Jongg academy.

The bottom line is there are not enough hours in the day when staying with Mary Jo. We went to dinner at City Kitchen with Kate. The view was beautiful and the food delicious. I ran into three different Mah Jongg student friends who came in the restaurant while we were there. It is funny to meet people’s husbands for the first time and they say, “I know all about you, the guru of Mah Jongg.” I hope all these husbands are happy that their wives have found such joy in playing. Now it is time for the husbands to learn to play. Mah Jongg is not just a female game.

Thanks May Jo for the wonderful hospitality, even if I didn’t get enough sleep because we stay up talking so long.

Morehead Madness

The Summer Beach Mah Jongg has started. There are four weeks this summer I will be making the trek to Morehead/Atlantic Beach/Beaufort for classes. That means I impose on four different friends to stay with them.

I leave home at five-thirty in the morning so that is one night I get to stay home. This morning’s drive was fantastic because I finished up listening to my book group’s read of Long Island by Colm Toibin. It was a great listen as the reader was excellent at switching between Long Island Italian accents, and Irish.

Toibin made me sympathize with every character which is quite a feat. I loved the book and highly recommend it. Now I have to start a new book on my drive home. I’m a little sad that Long Island is done.

I had classes at the Dunes Club, but the highlight of this trip is that I am staying with Mary Jo Bowen. She has the most darling house in Morehead and I practically invited myself. She was offended when I said I like to spread out my stays so no one gets sick of me. She thought that meant I didn’t want to come back to her house. Nothing could be further from the truth.

She did Iron my sheets, which I told her was absolutely over the top and unnecessary, but they are beautiful.

Mary Jo, invited Kate to dinner with us. I introduced them to each other last year and am so happy they have become friends. We went to Full circle and it was so nice a quiet downtown since it is the week before the Big Rock Fishing tournament. I am usually here the week of Big Rock and it is crazy busy then. I like the quiet best.

The first day is the long day. I need to rest up after my early morning long day. There are people counting on me being able to teach them Mah Jongg.

Don’t Skimp on the Thank You

It’s graduation season and that means gifts. Graduating from college or high school is an accomplishment. It is not graduation from preschool, lower school or middle school. Those are just moving up ceremonies and are not gift occasions. A gift for those is like a participation trophy, but the rules are suspended for grand parents.

I never got a gift for graduations from parents or grandparents, although I still have a beautiful sterling perpetual calendar I got from Deicy Stockwell, Stori’s Mom, for my graduation from Walkers. In our family getting your education was the gift and I fully understand that now.

I had a grandmother who was a stickler for thank you notes. One year an unnamed relative, who was younger than me, did not send a thank you note for her Christmas presents. My grandmother informed my mother that child would not receive a gift next year due to this oversight. It was tough love.

I think I have taken after my grandmother, but in an even more picky way. I received a thank you note that was so generic it could have been written in advance to be given to anyone who gave the grad a gift. The salutation was, “Hi.” Followed by, “Thank you for the gift.” (No mention of our specific gift, which was very generous.) A bit about the grad and the a closing with a bad grammar mistake.

Now I am a horrible speller, as all readers of my blog remind me of and I make plenty of grammar mistakes, some are actually stylistic choices, but still I make others. This mistake was something a college grad should have gotten right.

So I will forgive the grammar, although it does not bode well for the institution that conveyed the diploma, but the generic thank you, that could have been to someone who gave a ten dollar gift card or a new car was disappointing. Even the addressing on the envelope was wrong.

Like my grandmother I will hold back on future gifts. I know getting kids to write thank you notes is hard, but by the time they get to high school and certainly college they should learn to do it with a little more thought. You should at least thank the givers by name, mention the gift and how you might use it, even if that might be a stretch and then you can talk about yourself and your plans. This skill is something you need to use your whole life, like when you go to interview for jobs, or receive wedding gifts. The big moments that require a little tiny bit of effort on your part because you are being judged on your thank you.

The Perfect Evening

There are some perfect evenings in North Carolina, after the pollen has gone, when the potted flowers on the terrace are all in bloom, before the humidity and the bugs have come, and the temperature feels not warm, but not cool, but soft. Tonight was one of those nights.

You can’t predict when they are going to come. There is no way to send an invitation that says, come eat on the terrace only if all the planets line up just right, otherwise don’t come.

Thankfully, I had invited Lee and Tom to come for Sunday supper and conditions were just right for eating on the terrace. We sat in the living room for drinks, but when dinner time came I invited everyone outside. Lee said she didn’t know the terrace was there. That’s because we are not going to eat out there unless conditions are perfect. And they were.

So we lingered over dinner and the peach and blueberry cobbler I threw together at the last minute. Eventually the sun set, but we had the outdoor lamps to keep the party going. Even with the lamps on the table turned on, there were hardly any bugs. Just that lady bug that got in Lee’s water.

Maybe we can have dinner outside tomorrow. There just aren’t that many perfect evenings. I’m so glad we caught one tonight. Maybe we should eat breakfast outside.

Best Laid Plans

Months ago I made the decision to take the week of Memorial Day off from teaching. If I don’t purposely block time out it will get filled with classes. I know that I need some blocks of time at home to actually get somethings done and just see friends at home.

Little did I know when I blocked this week off I would have a friend having an operation. Someone was looking out for me that I was free when needed. I was happy to help out with that rather than doing the things I thought I would be doing this week.

I did get to have some fun this week. Celebrating Christy’s birthday yesterday was top on the list, and getting to play some Mah Jongg. We had dinner out with friends tonight and are going out to lunch tomorrow with some other friends.

Tomorrow night another couple is coming to our house for dinner. So, that is a lot of fun for my week off.

Sadly, I did not go to the attic. It’s an ongoing joke that I will never clean anything out from the attic. Right now I think all the light bulbs are burned out so I can’t even go up in the night and get a box to look through. I will have to save this job for another time I take a week off.

I did work in the garden this morning and watered plants around the property. Things are looking good enough and we are eating arugula as fast as we can.

Russ cleaned out the overflow pantry in the garage for me. I asked what I need to use up and it looks like we should be having tuna melts for a month.

I did actually do one major job I should have done in March, cleaning the outdoor glass topped table. We bought this aluminum table and chairs for our terrace before Carter was born. It has served us well and is still going strong. The only issue is the channel on the table where the glass top fits in gets full of junk from pine needles falling on it, and other natural shmutz growing under the glass.

It is a big job to clean it out, because I have to lift the glass up and prop it a few inches from it’s normal place and scrub the aluminum and the glass. It is one of those jobs I have to do every spring, but sometimes it doesn’t get done until summer. I feel so accomplished that I have it done and can consider my week off successful despite the lack of other progress. The bathroom mirrored wall that goes up to the ceiling needs to be cleaned, but since that has been a few years, what is another few months?

I have too many people patiently waiting to learn Mah Jongg. Who cares if the mirror in my bath room needs to be cleaned up by the ceiling. I can’t take another week off until it’s time to go to Maine. No cleaning then. Hopefully no more people need any operations. If I don’t schedule time off they just can’t happen.