No Mah Jongg Emergencies

When someone calls me desperate to get into one of my Mah Jongg Classes I always say there is no such thing as a Mah Jongg emergency. Today my class for the Coral Bay Club, which is being held at the Carteret County Culinary School while the club is being rebuilt, had an emergency drill.

The life flight helicopter was making a scheduled landing at the school so that the emergency training class of teenagers could get a look at it, along with some ambulances and fire trucks.

We loved just taking a break to watch it come in and go on and get our class photo with the helicopter. It was not a Mah Jongg emergency, but a few students to suggested that I could use a helicopter to travel between classes. I was not opposed to the idea, only the cost.

I could have used a copter this week as I have been teaching class in Morehead in the mornings and then again in New Bern in the evenings. I have been getting back to my friend Jill’s house in Atlantic beach at 9:30 each night. Tonight she waited to have dinner with me which was so sweet.

We have been staying up too late every night and before I left for New Bern she said, “Tonight we are not going to stay up talking so late.” Here it is 11:30 and I am just writing my blog because we stayed at the table on the porch over an hour after we said, it’s time to go to bed.

I think we could stay up all night talking, but we have that pesky class in the morning. Sleep really gets in the way of having fun. I still need to have some wits about me to teach tomorrow or we might have a real Mah Jongg emergency.

It’s Not the Class, but the Friends

It has become apparent to me that the only reason I teach Mah Jongg classes out of town is to get to visit friends I have made through Mah Jongg. Last week I taught two classes in places I don’t have friends and so I stayed at hotels. It was miserable.

This week I’m teaching at the beach and in New Bern. It’s not ideal as my New Bern class is in the evening so I drive back and forth getting back to the beach at 9:30 at night. The saving grace is I am staying with the darling Jill Gammon and she invited Martha Crampton and Bit Hardy to stay and go to class with her.

I have had more fun with these ladies in the little bit of off time I have between the morning class and the time I have to leave to go to New Bern. The bad part is when I get in late at night we stay up talking and don’t want to go to bed.

Tonight Jill had dinner for me when I got back of the most delicious Salad Nicoise I have ever eaten, including ones in France. The four of us could easily solve all the problems in the world, if only people listened to us.

I know it’s a lot to have me come stay, but it is so much fun for me. I hope it is at least half as fun for them. Class is great, but I love the visiting so much more. Now if only my extroversion would turn off so I could go to sleep. We all stay up too late and I have to get up early to go teach first thing in the morning.

New Bern, Can We Have Some of Your Rain?

As I was driving 70 towards New Bern, I could see it. Off in the distance of this sunny, blue sky day, Rain. It was grey ahead, and getting darker. The trees on the side of the road separated me from the really dark grey. I was driving parallel to the river, now the rain highway.

I had come from Durham. Yes, we had some rain this weekend, but not enough to green anything up. We are still short due to four weeks of no rain. The ground is 100° baked hard. What little rain we got rolled down hill.

Now I was driving into a storm I was desperate for, but at home. Sure enough, just before I got to my exit to go to Trent Woods the rain came hard. Quickly huge puddles formed on each side of the road. Sign that this was not their first rain.

The neighborhood was flooded. Volunteer lakes sprung up in yards. Lucky ducks, and tomatoes and lawns.

I pulled into a little park, as I was early for my class and watched as a mother bird supervised her chicks in a bath in their newly formed baby pool in the grass. The tiny birds, splashed like toddlers in yellow boots. The mama found a worm pushed up from the saturated ground by the new deluge forcing the worms to float.

Rain sure makes me happy. Now, please go on up to Durham. Our Mama birds need you too.

Cooking for Others

There is one thing I can do, it’s cook. I always told young people to learn to cook, you use that skill everyday. I don’t cook as much for myself as I do for others these days. Russ is always coming up with things he wants me to make for him. It’s a good thing he likes leftovers because I am not good at cooking small amounts. I figure, make it once eat it three times, OK maybe five.

It seems like a lot of my cooking lately has been for others. I have been baking cooking for funerals at church. Or cooking meals for friends who need them. This is the kind of cooking I like to do.

For my friend Jan I have to think about the kinds of foods that are good for Chemo. No Beef as it would have to be well done. Not too much raw stuff. Not too caloric, but tasty.

Today I cooked for my friend Holley, who has ALS. She is at the stage where swallowing is not working so all her food is through a tube. I made things that are already liquid, but also food for her family that is not. The difference in cooking for Holley is trying to add as many calories in as small a liquid as possible.

I got to have a great visit with Holley and her husband Paul. Paul said the vitamix can liquify anything into a Holley palatable form. We joked about the industrial sized Duke’s Mayo and what it can be added to. My suggestion was liquified pimento cheese.

Cooking may be a small thing, but it is my outward expression of love to the friends who need it. Holley seems to be craving a cheeseburger casserole. I think I can whip that up and Paul can run some of it through the vitamix and keep some whole for himself and their daughter Wheezie.

Anything Holley and Jan want is my motto. I’m not near John Cadigan’s family up in Massachusetts to cook for them, so I hope other’s are doing it. There is nothing better than not having to think about making a meal when you are grieving. Leave the cooking to your friends. And friends, the cooking is your love.

Make Sure You Have Carbon Monoxide Alarms

Early this morning I was woken from a really good dream by the sound of my phone texts going off. I have my phone silenced for everyone except for Carter. When it kept going off I was quickly awake and looked to see six messages from her.

She and Claire are visiting Claire’s parents and they awoke to five alarms going off in their house and the fire engines arriving. Turns out a golf cart that was plugged in emitted something that made the alarms go off.

I am so thankful that Claire’s parents have a good monitoring system and it kept them all safe. I am sure no one was happy about being awake at 5:30 in the morning, but thank goodness they were.

Please check that you have CO monitors along with your smoke alarms. They need to be loud to wake you because Carbon Monoxide can disorient you before it takes you out all together.

With houses being more energy efficient there is no place for carbon monoxide to escape. Stay alive and get out if your alarm ever goes off, that is as long as you have one.

Our House at 30

This morning Russ asked me if I knew where we were 30 years ago today. I correctly guessed that this was the first night we slept in our house. We made an offer on this house on a weekend we visited Durham in April after Russ picked UNC for business school.

It was our second trip to North Carolina to look for houses. The first house we bid on was in Chapel Hill and that did not go well, so we moved on to Durham. It was a good move for us. Our Chapel Hill realtor was not happy about showing houses in Durham so she basically only showed us Hope Valley. We looked at every house that was on the market.

One house in New Hope Valley had a kitchen island the size of an aircraft carrier. I could not figure out how you cleaned the center of it without crawling on top of it. Needless to say it did not make the short list.

The house we bought, where we still live, had a big lot and a tiny house. It had been built by Mr. Harris, the President of CCB, a local bank, as his retirement house. He and his wife lived here for over thirty years. The second owners were a couple who did not live here long as she got run out of town for having relations on her desk at work with a donor. We never met her, only him and I was certain he was more attracted to men and that was perhaps why she got it at work. (That’s all the information I will give you.) They only lived here a couple of years. For years people still referred to our house as the Harris House.

So now to us. We were the youngest people on our street. We didn’t know anyone in Durham, but we quickly found so many nice people. Our across the street neighbors, the Admiral and Mary Teer Outlaw had us over for drinks right away. They told us who everyone in Durham was starting with themselves. It was like an old southern movie. So every time I met someone in the neighborhood I never let on that I already knew their back story.

In those early days it was me and Russ and our dog Beau and three cats, Stormy, Charlotte and Chappy. I never would have guessed that we would still be in the same place 30 years later. Things have changed slightly, as we doubled the size of the house and added a daughter and new dog years after we lost all our original pets.

Now that daughter is grown up with a place of her own in Boston. We are no longer the young people. In fact, we are the second longest term residents of our street. We have seen a lot change, especially the prices. It has been a great 30 years. I think we still have a few more to go to beat the original owners as longest residents. Thankfully I think our house is now thought of as the Lange House since most people who knew the Harris’ are dead.

Happy Anniversary to our house. As Russ said, “30 years ago today boxes were moved into the attic that have never been opened.” I asked him if we should ceremoniously get one out today and he said, “ Not in this weather.” We might have to do it on the 30 1/2 anniversary.

July 4th Reflection

Happy July Fourth! My wish is that all Americans want a free country today and tomorrow. Russ has been watching the UK elections and the results are still not final.

As we spent so many years living in the UK we hold it fondly in our hearts, but are glad we don’t live there now. Russ mentioned that since Brexit there has been no foreign investment in the country. Without immigrants the economy has not grown and they don’t have the tax base they need to keep up services.

The idea that natives wanted to keep “others” out of their small island and return to some fictionalized time has been a failure. There are not enough workers to do the low end jobs that keep a country running. Without immigrants there are not enough lorry drivers, farm workers, health care aids, dish washers, construction workers, line cooks, meat packers, rubbish collectors, outdoor maintenance people, house cleaners and the list goes on and on. Without those immigrants working jobs and paying taxes there will not be enough in the coffers to cover health care and retirements for pensioners. We would do well to learn from their mistakes.

Undoing Brexit is much harder than enacting it was. Even if the UK loosened immigration it is hard to attract the right people to come to your country after you have treated them badly and thrown them out earlier. It may be too late for us to learn from that mistake.

Isolationist policies have never paid off. The greatest times of growth are when there have been free and fair trade. We need others to buy our goods and to get that to happen we also have to be open. What British goods are we buying right now? We need to learn from them.

An uneducated electorate often chooses short sighted, short term choices to things they are unhappy with. Being staunchly proud of being uneducated does not serve anyone in the long run. Educate yourself on how countries with isolationist policies are doing. Then decide if that is the way you would like your country to go.

It will be too late to change when we don’t have workers doing the jobs we need. It will be too late when Social Security is underfunded because we don’t have immigrant workers paying into the system. It will be too late when you want a home health care aid to come take care of you because you can’t take care of yourself, and none are to be found.

On this Independence Day remember we were founded by immigrants. None of the founding fathers were native Americans of more than a couple generations. Unless you are 100% Native American you too are a descendant of an immigrant. Never forget that.

You Are A Store

Recently I stopped into Whole Food with my friend Jan to grab lunch. I got the salad bar and went to the coffee bar to get an iced tea. There was no line and the barista was standing at the ready.

I ordered an iced tea with lemon, my go to order forever and ever. He looked at me from beneath his hair net and said, “We don’t have any lemons.”

Not missing a beat I replied, “You do, you are a store.”

By then another women joined my line of one, but stood to the side of me. Jan was on the other side of me in front of the goodie cabinet of baked goods, trying to look like she was picking between the almond croissant or the morning glory muffin. I knew she was actually taking in all the reactions to my comments.

Before I could continue the lemon conversation the barista volunteered he could add lemonade to my tea to solve the no lemon problem. I agreed to that compromise. Then he told me he had to make another drink first, for some invisible customer. It was a complicated coffee drink that inexplicably involved him adding a non-dairy form of milk in small drips and stirring vigorously between each drop.

Finally he got to work pouring the premade tea from a pitcher he retrieved from an under-counter refrigerator into the cup of light ice. The line to my side continued to grow and the women next to me was displaying a humorless posture.

The Barista started to search for the lemonade in the under-counter refrigerator. He didn’t look long or hard and quickly stood up and announced he didn’t have any lemonade. I withheld my obvious comment that “he did have lemonade, since this was a store. He just didn’t have it right there.”

Instead of that comment I suggested they stock lemons since they sell tea. That was when he volunteered that they had done away with lemons during the pandemic.

“That was many years ago. You need to tell management it’s time to bring them back.”

At this point Jan had stopped pretending to look at the goodie cabinet to get a continuous good look at the humorless women next in line who was appalled by my suggestions.

I was appalled that this barista had been working there since the pandemic and had not learned make drinks faster and how to provide any obvious customer service when it came to selling iced tea. For goodness sake, this is North Carolina, in the summer, lemon is required with iced tea, just as ice is required. Someone could have gone to the produce department and solved this problem. Apparently no one besides me realized that the Whole Foods is a store. They sell lemons in this store. Don’t tell me you don’t have lemon.

Take Care of the Living

Yesterday I got a message from my friend Lilea, whose sister Stori was one of my closest friends in boarding school. Lilea is the one you contacted me when Stori had her fatal horse back riding accident. Yesterday’s message started with, “I have some sad news…”

Stori’s husband John was found dead on his front porch Sunday. It was numbing to read. How could this be? My heart immediately broke for Sam, Stori and John’s only daughter. Sam is just 26 and has lost both her parents in less than two years.

Since Stori’s passing I had heard from John every few months to talk about Stori. He was heart broken and just wanted to talk about her. I was always happy to do that. Now I wish I had reached out to him more.

Today I got to spend the whole day with my friend Jan as she continues her breast cancer journey. She has had a miraculously successful double mastectomy. I say successful because she has not had much pain and has a nicely healing scar. Unfortunately she still needs chemo.

The chemo starts next week, so today I went with her for her oncology appointment, her chemo training and her operation to implant her port for the chemo treatments. My most important job was a to distract her when she got her IV needle inserted. I am an expert on this front.

Jan is a trooper. Her positive attitude serves her well, but I was at the ready in case she wanted to be like the rest of us and have a pity party. No such thing happened.

She got through everything like a champ and even did the unthinkable and brought me a little gift and a keeper of a letter. She knows not to give me a gift!!!

I will be starting up a new meal train for Jan for the Chemo weeks. If you want to be included in the providing meals let me know. We are just starting with the first round and will judge from their when she will need help. Most likely on the day of Chemo and then for a week a few days after Chemo as those are predicted to be the bad days. Then she gets two weeks off before her next round.

Between the passing of Stori, my dear college friend Hugh, now Stori’s husband John I am feeling like I need to do a better job of keeping care of old friends. Jan is one of my first friends I made in Durham, and one of my best friends going on 30 years. I can’t afford to lose any more old friends. I am not live long enough to make new old friends.

Please reach out to the ones you love. We have to take care of the living.

Shay Goes Out To Dinner

It’s a very good day when Shay gets invited over to her friends the Pottenger’s house for dinner and she is allowed to bring us as her +2. Dave and Sara Pottenger’s beloved dog Brady was a cousin of Shay’s and is the reason we have Shay.

Sadly Brady crossed the rainbow bridge two years ago. So Shay needs to visit the Pottenger’s to give them their labradoodle fix. Megan was there too and Shay made sure to snuggle with her.

Shay is so spoiled at the Pottenger’s. She was allowed to put her head on the dinner table. Megan texted a photo to her sister Tatum and Tatum texted back that Shay needed her own seat at the table.

Love our dog, love us. Well our dog loves the Pottenger’s just like we do. We all decided that we should always have dogs in every meeting because it lowers the anxiety. Perhaps dogs should be required in Congress. They would make better deals and decisions.

Thanks Sara, Dave and Megan for the wonderful dinner and dear friendship. You are about the only way for me to keep my sanity and you make Shay very happy. She loves you as much as we do.

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.

I’ve Seen Her With My Own Eyes

A week of blogs about one friend is a lot, but tonight will close out the week with all the good news people have been asking for.

I made dinner for Jan, Rex, their daughter Kim and grand daughter Morgan who are in from Texas to help out. I texted Jan when I had ll the food made and it took a bit for her to get back to me. She was having her second nap of the day. Since she slept in her rented recliner I felt like she deserved two naps.

I let myself in the front door because thankfully their big dog crocket was with their son David. Jan was up and dressed looking like she does on any regular day. She hugged me without pain before I hugged everyone else.

After a detailed description of how well she was feeling she showed me one of her drains that was clearly working. If I didn’t know she had undergone surgery 27 hours before I never would have guessed.

Due to Jan’s poor reception to regular anesthesia she had nerve blocks, which might still be working at the time of my visit as she said her pain level was a two. Such great news.

We had a really good visit, sitting out in the sun talking with Kim and Rex. I suddenly realized I had been their too long for a food drop off visit. I hope I did not wear Jan out, but she did not appear tired. It was also getting close to dinner time and she was happy I had brought Salmon as it appears many other people had mentioned bringing the same chicken dish. Note to self, don’t bring chicken to a meal train as that is what everyone else is bringing.

I hope Jan continues to feel as good as she does today. She was quite miraculous, but then again she is that way normally.

Prayers Answered

For those of you who have been praying for Jan McCallum, the prayers for this part of her cancer journey have been answered. She went in for surgery this morning and the report was it was successful. She was home before four this afternoon and is reclining in her Mastectomy PJ’s with some kind of inflatable contraption wrapped around her. For someone going for the flat look they have her looking more like Mae West right now.

She needs to rest and hopefully will have enough pain medication to sleep through the night. Rex and her daughter Kim are with her so she is well cared for. True to Jan’s style she has already sent many group texts and her Bubbly of bosom buddies have been cheering the good news.

This is just the start of her journey and she can well report on how things go for herself. She has read the messages you have sent through the blog. I have loved hearing from so many of her far flung friends who I have heard about through the years. Thank you for keeping her in your prayers. You all made a difference. Jan’s lifetime of making friends everywhere she goes shows through. Hooray for a good day for Jan!

Ask Your Higher Being to Watch Over Jan

Not everyone I know is a believer. Believe in what, Dana? Believe that we are connected to each other. Believe in karma. Believe is a higher being. Believe that dogs are angels from heaven. Believe that how we care for the earth is important.

I don’t care if you believe in one God, Many gods or no god at all. Jesus does not have to be your guy. But you can still be a believer. You can believe that there are things outside your control or that you can’t see the whole picture and therefore you have to have faith things will work out the way they are supposed to.

So no matter what you believe, or don’t believe I want to ask that you summons whatever higher power you might think about, even only sporadically, and ask them to watch over Jan McCallum. Then add Jan’s surgeon Maggie DiNome to your request. While you are at it mention Rex, Kim and David, Jan’s husband and children. How about all the nurses and surgical techs, and health aids?

Jan has her surgery tomorrow morning and gets sent home the same day. No one gets better in the hospital, but going home is rough too. I am praying for low pain and high drainage. Good sleep and a quiet home. And good margins and no more cancer.

Doesn’t matter what you believe, doesn’t hurt to ask. Doesn’t matter if you don’t consider yourself worthy of asking, you aren’t asking for yourself. Just in case prayers multiplied works better, let’s do it. You can do it right now, or when you wake up. You can do it twice or ten time. Silently or loudly proclaimed. You can name the being you are asking help from or whisper into the wind. Just ask, but name Jan.

I believe in connection and goodness and light, but I also believe in good doctors. So I have faith that Jan is in good hands, but just in case I’m going to ask the one I believe in to watch over Jan. It’s for selfish reasons. But my higher being is OK with that. That being knows there are so many who love and depend on Jan. I just don’t want there to be any question about who he needs to watch over tomorrow. It’s Jan!

Bye Bye Boobies Party

When Carol heard about Jan’s cancer she thought Jan needed a lunch to gather her friends for moral support. Jan suggested it be called the “Bye Bye Boobies Party.” Carol said she just couldn’t call it that. Helen joined Carol in hosting and a plan was hatched. I brought a watermelon salad made with arugula I grew and mint that grew itself from my garden. Deanna made some mini muffins. Carol, who loves an excuse to bake, made many desserts, including an orange olive oil cake with oranges from her tree in Naples.

Sara gave a heart felt blessing that kept getting interrupted by the timer on the stove telling us the quiche was done. Carol read a list of suggestions for things we could do for Jan, beside signing up for the Meal train Lee created.

The suggestions are:

Go walk Crockett for Jan Since she won’t be able to control him and can’t lift more than five pounds.

Offer to do shopping or to the farmer’s market

Bring lunch

Call for check ins

Chauffeur Jan around

Visit and play games with Jan

It was a wonderful chance to be with friends in support of Jan. Sadly we forgot to take a photo while everyone was there. The most important thing is Jan felt the love. Then she went home and hosted a neighborhood party to let all her new friends in the neighborhood know. They are a tight knit group as they all moved into this new neighborhood at around the same time. I feel certain they too will take care of Jan, and most importantly walk Crockett.

Natural and Artificial?

Russ did some cleaning out of the pantry today. I know, he’s good like that. He found a jar of Maraschino cherries we must have brought home from Maine. Why we brought them home I do not know. I am guessing they are from Maine because they came from Walmart and Maine is the only place we ever shop at Walmart.

Sometimes I like to make a mocktail with gosslings diet ginger beer, lime juice and a cherry with a splash of juice.

Since Russ found this wayward jar he asked me if I wanted a cherry in my watermelon, turmeric, ginger, lime mocktail. I said sure. Live big, it’s a holiday.

Then I got a look at the jar. “Natural and Artificial Flavor.” Nothing about a Maraschino Cherry screams natural. Just look at the color. Now I am certain at one point the cherry was natural, before it was soaked in sugar syrup and zapped with some laser to make it neon red.

My issue is with the need to label Natural and Artificial Flavor above the name. I’m sure it’s a full disclosure thing, but once you add anything artificial doesn’t that cancel out any natural part? For the .79¢ these things cost can you have any illusion they are a high percentage of natural?

In order to label something natural shouldn’t it be 100% natural? A drop of artificial means that it is tainted.

I am not complaining about these cherries being artificial, I bought them expecting them to be. I don’t believe in spending $26 for those all natural cocktail cherries. I would prefer to go without the cherry all together rather than spend $26. I grew up in the sixties and drank plenty of strawberry Quick. What the hell do you think was in that?

Let’s just label these Cherries, artificial with a hint of real cherry. No one who buys them is expecting anything more.

Who’s In Charge?

Every night Shay demands her dinner at 6:00. We don’t eat until almost an hour later, depending on how the cooking is going. Shay’s dinner is a multi-course extravaganza. Kibble base topped with some warmed rotisserie chicken. This is followed by a cheese course and then a second cheese course. Dessert is her half a doggie NSAD which she eats like candy.

It takes her a while to savor all her courses, but as soon as she has deemed herself full she demands that Russ go in HER sun room and play with her and some of her toys.

It does not matter if he is finished with dinner or not, but as soon as she is ready she demands sunroom time. I am not required, or sometimes even allowed to join them.

If I stand in the doorway she gives me the side eye, “This is Daddy and me time.”

If Russ is away she does not annoy me into going to have after dinner play with her. She might just go right up to bed after dinner, obviously despondent that Daddy is not there.

Shay’s training of Russ is impeccable. She has him exactly where she wants him at the exact time. Many a time he has gotten up from his half finished meal to throw a blue dog for her to catch in the sun room. We have tried to play with her in the breakfast room so we could eat together and that is a hard no, as this 22 pound diva drags Russ away. Who’s in charge here? I think the answer is pretty clear.

A Bubbly of Bosom Buddies

While I was at the Durham Bulls game last night with Russ and our friends Michelle and Richard, Jan was back at the hospital getting one last scan to identify something fishy looking from the scan she got earlier in the day.

She texted me last night that the results were not in yet. I felt like she had enough already, but said my nightly prayers and posted my blog.

It was no surprise that the messages of support for Jan were many and far flung. She is well loved by anyone who ever met her and through her years of Heading up Pixels to Pages she traveled the world teaching millions how to make digital scrapbooks.

This morning she got the good news that the shadow that required looking at was nothing critical, just some innocuous thing in her body. This was good news. So it looks like if nothing else changes in the next few days she will have her procedure Thursday.

With that worry behind she turned to coming up with a name for the many friends who are also acting as her spirit animals, because I am just one of many. Jan wanted an original name for this group, like a gaggle of geese gets or a murder of crows, but something happier.

So it was decided the emotional support group will be known as a Bubbly of Bosom Buddies. As one of the most Bubbly people I know, I find this to be the perfect name for Jan’s friends. So I invite you to send any loving wishes, prayers and advice to Jan you want. You can do it through this blog or Facebook as Jan will get all the messages.

Knowing people are wishing her well gives her lots of endorphins, which can’t hurt in these days. As one of the Bubbly I wish I could thank you all personally.

Jan’s Emotional Support Animal

My friend Jan got some bad news a couple of weeks ago. She has given me permission to write about it. 34 years ago as a young mother she got breast cancer. It was caught early and she had all the cutting edge treatments for the time. I met her just a few years after and we became fast friends. She told me then about her cancer survival, but I never thought of her and cancer because she is the most vital person.

Her bad news came with her most recent mammogram. She called me right after she had the squishing, but had not heard from the doctor, saying she knew she had cancer. Of course she was right. She didn’t feel anything and she didn’t feel bad, but she knew. She had to go for another mammogram with contrast and an ultrasound sound and they found some more spots.

She had already made her plan for treatment even before the doctors had one. Their’s matched hers, ‘cause she is smart that way.

She is scheduled for a double mastectomy next Thursday, if all the pre-op tests are OK. Today I took her for her Bone Scan and CT. Jan has deep veins and does not like needles so I was there to tell her stories while they poked around. The tech invited me to come back and distract all the other patients.

Between the CT and the bone scan we walked around the garden at Duke and played some Mah Jongg against each other on our devices. I got to go in the with her for the bone scan where she lay perfectly still on the table for forty minutes while the machine made it’s drawing of her skeleton. I did not talk to her through that since she had to be still and I could not be trusted not to make her laugh. For the record she has a very nice skeleton.

We went to lunch after to celebrate her birthday which was this week. I took her home and she declared I was now her official emotional support animal. A badge I will wear proudly.

It turned out there was one thing on one of her tests they wanted to explore more thoroughly so she had to go to Durham Regional for an other scan this evening, but her husband took her.

We are praying that additional thing is a whatthefuckanoma and is nothing consequential, but the word is still out on that.

I ask that you please pray for Jan. Not actually the way a minister who called her to pray with her did, and said, “Jesus, put your hands on Jan’s breasts.” We got a laugh out of that thinking that there wasn’t much Jesus could do about those breasts that are going.

Jan wants everyone to remember to get your mammograms regularly. This cancer is not related to her previous one 34 years ago. It’s just bad luck, as Jan says. But she has a plan and she is an expert at working a plan.

Lee Wolman is doing the meal train for Jan. She is thrilled when other people cook for her and Rex. As the official emotional Support Animal I will keep up to date on her needs and if you want to help I am certain I can find you a way. Prayers and chocolate, that’s what I think Jan wants most. No hands on her breasts unless you are a medical professional. Maybe Jesus can lay his hands on her doctors.

Bad Smell Investigation

In my burning the candle on two ends week I have had little time to do home drudgery. I had my last beyond beginners class at my house this morning. While it was going on I went to the kitchen to fill my tea and smelled a bad smell. I was unsure if it was coming from the garbage can, or the refrigerator because I smelled it when I was getting the tea out of the fridge, which is next to the garbage.

Since it was the middle of class I could not investigate. After class I threw some things away from the fridge that could be the issue, but then I had to drive to Dunn to teach my night class.

Dunn is a good drive away so it made for a very long day and week as this was my third day in a row doing morning and night classes.

I got home tonight and went to the fridge to fill my glass with ice and water. The smell is still there. I am too tired to start sniffing around. I have an early day taking a friend to the hospital tomorrow for pre-op work up before a big operation.

I am not looking forward to smelling everything inside the fridge. I recently clean it out and there is just not that much in there and nothing obvious is jumping out at me.

Russ checked the freezer to make sure everything in there was still frozen. Thankfully it was. He is not good at sniffing out something bad. I can’t count how many times he has asked me if something was bad because he has no sense of smell.

So this job is going to fall to me. I am not looking forward to tomorrow afternoon. I wish there was some device that could tell me what the offending odor item is that does not involve me smelling everything. I hate bad smells.

Mah Jongg Mirrors Life

As I was teaching experienced players Mah Jongg today I got into a discussion about how players who lost the game react. I stated that so many players are quick to reveal their losing hand to show their “almost” Mah Jongg. Often times players do this before they have even looked at the winners hand to verify it is actually correct.

Never reveal your hand until you have verified the winner. If the player has called Mah Jongg in error than they are called dead, but so are you for having revealed your hand.

The reason people reveal their hand prematurely is that they want to show you how smart they are too, or how close they got, or that you won by a hair, or any other number of reasons. I too am guilty of showing what I was going for, but did not make.

The more I think about this the more I recognize traits in people they might want to change if they only realized they were doing it. How often does someone join a group and immediately want to start talking about themselves. I know I do.

At a recent celebration for a friend I listened to two people dominate the conversation and ignore the person being celebrated. I know these people, who are all friends, did not purposely mean to do that, but they do it all the time.

I have another friend who is skilled at asking specific questions to each person in a group so they have a chance to shine before she ever mentions anything going on with her. It is a most welcome trait, which I want to try an emulate.

As I write a daily blog about any old drivel about me, I usually want to hear about other people because I figure if they were the least bit interested in me they might have already read what was going on with me. This does not mean I am not talking about myself, lord that would take an act of god. But, like revealing your Mah Jongg tiles, it is best to ask about others before making it about you.

My advice in Mah Jongg is you don’t always have to reveal what you are playing. Instead take a moment to celebrate the winner. Let her have her moment in the sun. Soon enough you will have another chance to win.

I am going to work on applying this same advice to all aspects of my life. That does not mean I will stop writing my blog about the randomness of my life. The difference is, if you read it, that is your choice. If I see you in person, then I want to hear about you. You got enough about me.