The Celebration of Grace and Paul

Yesterday was the most beautiful wedding day for my fairy Godchild Grace and her sweet now husband Paul. Last night I barley had enough time to write about what was the best wedding ever, so I only covered the ceremony before passing out.

Now, 24 hours after the ceremony I finally have a moment to sit down and reflect on all the fun, the conversations, the friends, the details and the happy couple. I am still exhausted, but some of that is because we had to leave NH this morning, return Russ’ rental car in Boston and go pick up Carter’s Girl friend Claire to go to meet Claire’s parents for the first time. This plan for our meeting has been in the works for months and it was just wonderful. I do wish I was not so tired, but I was still in the glow of the wedding weekend which was a bonus.

Now back to the wedding…. Suzanne has been a great planner for at least the 45 years I have known her. So it was no surprise that every last detail of this wedding was perfect. When Grace and Paul got engaged almost two years ago Suzanne started the search for wedding venues. As Steve and Suzanne had recently moved to NH and purchased a lot on the New Hampshire sea cost I suggested they have an at home wedding, even though they did not have a house on their land yet.

Suzanne ended up taking that idea and running with it and what took place was so far from a little tent in the grass that I had suggested. Instead a steel and glass architectural wonder was built over looking the ocean with a porch full of comfy couches and chairs. As soon as the happy couple walked down the aisle Steve and Suzanne led the way for the guests to join them in the glass house for drinks and appetizers.

No one was shy about enjoying a mini lobster rolls or any of the offerings from the raw bar. I was so happy to get to visit with Suzanne’s four sisters and their families. Suzanne’s many friends from the years all had a great time reconnecting, just as Steve’s numerous friends did. Grace and Paul’s friends were the young blood of the party who made sure the dance floor was never empty. Carter had the best time with Grace’s brothers, Jack and Oliver and a bunch of their cousins at a table strategically placed near the band.

The Band! Music has always been a huge part of Steve’s life. When I asked him at age 27 if he could be anyone else in the world who would he be, he quickly announced, “Sting.” At the time I was hardly cool enough to grasp what a wonderful answer that was.

It came as no surprise that the band, all dozen or so of them, was out of this world. The playlist was right out of our era, since I am certain those were the songs Grace heard her whole lifetime. The dancing was powerful and exhausting. It started early and only took a break for dinner to be served and when the speeches were being given.

Dinner was served family style at each table with a flight of haddock, chicken, risotto, and vegetables. No one went hungry. I loved getting a chance to get to know my friend’s Rose’s boy friend Gene and Sally’s husband Pete. As always it was great to see Frank and Janet.

The dinner tables were a combination of rounds and long tables laden with ivory vases of varying shapes and sizes filled with every type of beautiful yellow flowers and lemons strewn about and used as place cards. Someone asked Grace about the theme of yellow and she said, “It is the color of sunshine and that is what Paul is.”

After dinner the speeches began. First from Steve, whom I certain had thought more than once over Grace’s lifetime what he might say on this day. Every tender word was perfect, reflecting so much of the love that this tight knit family has always had.

Grace’s lifelong friend Sydney was her Maid of Honor and she too gave a funny and darling toast to Grace that only a friend who has known you since you were both six could give. I loved the story of pretending to be models during recess with a game Grace made up called Chic, Chic, but pronounced, “Sheek, Chick.”

That was followed by Paul’s best man, his brother. Carter deemed his toast one of the best wedding toasts from such an doting brother, she had ever heard. I loved the part about them being back to back, to back to back science fair winners. These brothers’ love is a testament to their beautiful mother Sandy who raised them with their sister.

There were first dances, the cutest being with Paul and his ninety something year old grand mother. But those tender dances gave way to full on party mode and after the official reception ended and the band finished, a surprise after party took off with a DJ and light up batons.

Now it wouldn’t really be a party if I didn’t have so much fun that I fell down, and now have two bruised toes, a black and blue skinned knee and a bloody arm, but that didn’t stop me. Thanks to Pete for getting me a wet napkin to act s a tourniquet.

The one thing I loved so much about this wedding was how present Grace and Paul were in it. I had sweet conversations with them. Carter had a heartfelt love fest with Grace sharing how much our families love each other. Carter and Oliver talked and danced. Jack and Oliver and I danced. Suzanne and Steve and I danced. Nothing makes a Mother happier than when you love your best friend’s children and they love each other.

There was no more beautiful mother of the bride than Suzanne. She not only planned and executed this whole weekend, down to transportation for every guest, but she did it looking the like a billon bucks and having so much fun at the same time.

It was an honor and a pleasure to be witness to this happy union and to celebrate my dear dear friends. I can’t wait to see the life that Grace and Paul build together. It has a foundation built on love.

Grace and Paul, Perfectly Married

There are certainly not enough minutes left in this joyous day for me to rightfully convey the love fest I witnessed today at Grace and Paul’s wedding. From the moment we stepped off the bus with so many dear friends and family the feeling of happiness was in the air.

The day was surprisingly sunny and the yard was lush green with white hydrangeas and purple lavender in full bloom. The ceremony was set up in the grass with an alter of yellow and white flowers framing the deep blue sea just beyond the spot where Grace and Paul would be joined together.

Suzanne was just gorgeous in her blue floral dress the most stunning mother of the Bride. I could not hold back the tears as Steve walked Grace, the most serene Bride down the aisle with her veils floating in the light breeze. Seeing how Paul beamed at her made your heart flutter as we knew we were watching the magic of a new family being made.

Gussy and I sat together with our people in the fourth row so we could start the laughing that rippled through the guests as Jack gave his sweet and funny homily. Paul and Grace wrote tender hearted vows giving each witness a view into their loving relationship.

It was a most joyous wedding also enjoyed by all the travelers on Ocean Boulevard who slowed to catch a glimpse of the beautiful scene. My favorite gawker was the half naked surfer who threw his 70 year old body and surf board over the rocks and walked slowly down the street watching the wedding.

There was no way to hide the joy, nor should there have been. That kind of love is what heals the world.

Once Grace and Paul were officially married the party really got started. I will save that story for the morning as now I am going to put this exhausted body to bed.

Suzanne and Steve will sleep well tonight knowing they just shared a most extraordinary wedding with their dear friends and family and gave Grace and Paul the sweetest start to a beautiful life.

Prelude to a Beautiful Life

As Aunt Dana my job was to be available to do whatever was necessary to help get this wedding off the ground. Not that every detail was not already thought of, planned, back up planned, scheduled, spread sheeted, paid for and assigned ownership. Still I was called into action.

First duty was to go pick up fifteen pies in Dover NH. I had breakfast with my friends Karen and Nick and headed on my way. When I let Russ know about the 15 pies he said, “You mean 16 pies right.” So I got the wedding pies and one extra one for Russ.

Arriving back at Suzanne’s house I was greeted by her youngest Oliver and we hid the pies in the garage where I took a photo of them so the caterer would know where to find them. Then I joined the family in the great room/makeup studio. Suzanne was already getting her hair done for the rehearsal, Jack, her older son, was working on his remarks as officiant and I helped with those and the practice session.

As is always my role, I will be laughing first and hardest during the service giving all other attendees cues and permission to laugh. It will be funny, but also sweet and heartfelt. Oliver came up dressed for the rehearsal two hours in advance and needed me to sew a rip in his blazer. Sure enough, Suzanne pulled out the wedding sewing repair kit and I had all the needed tools to take care of the job.

Grace arrived for her hair and make up and we were a happy group toiling away. The last job was to tie the place cards on to the special treat all the guests will be getting when they find their seats. At last all the jobs were done and it was time for the beautiful Mother of the Bride and Bride to dress for the rehearsal and I slipped out to meet Russ and Carter who had driven up from Boston.

Carter did my hair and we dressed for the welcome party. I somehow had picked the perfect AirBnB across a short bridge from the event space where the party was being held.

As an honorary Worden sister and longest time friend of the Farley Family I got to see so many people I have known and loved because of Steve and Suzanne. We had college friends there and Steve’s friends and as many relatives as an Irish Catholic family could have, and neither of them are Irish or catholic. There were the groom, Paul’s people, especially his mom and her sisters who are fiercely loving of Paul and now Grace. And all the young friends of the Bride and the groom, here to celebrate.

After lots of how are you’s, we gathered in a big dark room and Suzanne gave the most beautiful, sweet, funny and touching toast. She is a fabulous writer professionally, but this was so tender and heartfelt.

Then they played the movie Suzanne made along with help from Sandy, Paul’s mother. I need to get to watch it about ten more times because sometime the tears in my eyes obscured my view. I especially loved reliving those early Grace baby years with video with the grandparents, all of whom I adored. I was so honored to be in the movie with a picture of me and Grace on the subway together.

It was a beautiful celebration of two wonderful young people. Grace and Paul clearly are a happy couple being welcomed into two adoring families.

For me it was wonderful for Carter to get to know people I love who she did not know well and be with Grace, Jack and Oliver and especially Suzanne, whom she has a special bond with as she is her godmother.

Surprisingly we were almost the last people to leave the party. This is never the way with Russ Lange. Even he was having a ball. And this was just the warm up for the big event. Tomorrow will be a day of endless love.

The Calm Before the Fun

It’s amazing was a good night’s sleep will do for you. I am so thankful for Carter and Claire’s wonderful guest room where Shay and I had a rejuvenating night’s sleep. I need to be well rested for the wedding of the decade.

I left Shay to stay in Boston with Claire and Norman while we are in New Hampshire at the wedding weekend of my fairy God child Grace.

I had an easy drive to New Hampshire to the home of my Walker’s dear friend Karen and her husband Nick. Kar generously invited me to stay tonight knowing that I was here to be back up gopher for whatever was needed for Grace’s wedding. Since I was her mother Suzanne’s maid of honor I am well versed in weddings in this family.

This afternoon we had a girls party to toast Grace and her bridesmaids. It was a wonderful start to the wedding weekend. I picked Suzanne up for the trip into Portsmouth so we got a chance to catch up. Some of my favorite people beside the beautiful bride and Mother of the bride were there. Three of Suzanne’s sister made it, Gussy, Carol and Nancy. Gussy and I share the same birthday and are a dangerous combination. I was in heaven seeing her.

Janet and Rose, our best Dickinson friends were there and some of Suzanne’s New York friends including the hostess Rebecca. It was also a nice time to meet Paul’s family. They are going to be fun wedding guests.

Suzanne had told me that Grace and Paul would like a needlepoint of their Wedding Duo Gram that was designed for the wedding. I had never heard of a duo gram, but it made perfect sense when she explained it was the bride and groom’s first initials with the shared last initial. Grace is keeping her name, but both share the same Initial F for both their last names, so the Duo gram works well.

I created a needlepoint pillow of their duo gram, using the shape of one of the cards in their invitation as inspiration. I brought the gift to this party so Suzanne and I could see her open it. She was very surprised and thankfully loved it. I don’t want anyone else to get any ideas that I am needlepointing their children wedding gifts. Grace is very special to me. When she introduced me to one of her bride’s maids she said, “This is my Aunt Dana. I very embarrassed to say how old I was when I actually figured out she was not my real Aunt.”

Grace also told another bridesmaid maid. “If anything goes wrong with your wardrobe you go to Dana. She can fix anything.” This is what I am here for.

Grace is my real Neice. I am never figuring out she is not. I can’t wait to celebrate her beautiful wedding with all these people I love and adore so much.

Shay Meets Norman

The goal of day two of driving was to finally get Shay to Boston to meet Norman. We left early from Pennsylvania and it was raining. Shay spent the whole morning standing up in her car seat watching the trucks drive by. We stopped in Norwalk to have lunch with Nancy Mack. We totally lucked out as the rain stopped for just one hour so we could eat lunch outdoors.

I was so happy that Nancy was able to take time from her new job to meet us. It was short, but always happy to be with her.

Shay and I continued the drive up to Boston to get to Carter and Claire’s new apartment and introduce Shay to their dog Norman. Norman is a goldendoodle the same height as Shay, but ten pounds heavier. They sized each other up, literally and have been getting along fairly well ever since.

When Norman wants to play Shay lets him know who is in charge. The humans went to dinner tonight at their local, Tavelo, and left the dogs home alone. It was a great to meet the friends at Tavelo and have a yummy dinner.

We came home to two happy dogs. Thank goodness since Shay is staying here with Claire while we go to the wedding this weekend. Thankfully the big drive is over.

I am looking forward to. Good night’s sleep in Carter and Claire’s guest room. Claire told me if I needed more pillows they had them for me. I think I’m good. I adore their sweet apartment.

Driving Miss Shay Shay

The big road trip to get Shay to New England started this morning. Russ loaded the car this morning as he is not making this drive with us. I am thankful for the bigger car this year as I have lots of wedding and Vacation stuff to carry.

Russ put Shay in her new car seat to say good bye. She was not happy he was not going with us. Although she is up higher and can see out the window she stood for almost the whole nine hour drive. I tried to get her to snuggle down and sleep, but she was much too anxious for that.

So I stopped more often than I normally would just to get the calm her down. That worked fine until we were north of Baltimore and a huge storm burst out. The thunder and lightening scared her so much she jumped out of her car seat and sat perched between the two seat. I learned I had to put her tether on the opposite side of the seat and shorten her strap so she can’t do that again.

We arrived at Russ’ Dad’s and Russ’ brother David and wife Tasha and old daughter Bree came over for dinner. Shay was happy for the attention, but was exhausted. She tried to heard me up to bed while everyone was still here. I hope she sleeps well tonight. I might not in a twin bed with her pushed up against me. (And there is a big storm here right now.)

This is the life of being Miss Shay Shay’s driver.

Hair Moron

Let me lay out the facts. I think I have about the same haircut I had when I was three. I grew up in the hippie sixties where long straight hair was the style, or no style by choice. I was lucky, I had long straight lifeless hair, similar to Laurie Partridge, and that is where the similarities ended.

Sometime in college I got a curling iron, but the burns on my forehead told me that was not a tool I could handle.

I was twenty seven before I ever had a perm. It was the eighties and I tried for a short period of time to have big hair. To be honest there were only a couple of days my hair was ever big because my BFF’s big sister Gussy sprayed and teased my hair into a “do.” It looked good for a hour.

I am a hair moron, meaning I can’t hold a dryer and a round brush at the same time, even in two different hands.

There is no such thing as a special occasion hairdo in my repertoire. My hair is my hair.

In the good new category, I have never colored my hair and I still retain my mousy brown color. I have grown a few grey hairs at my temples, but not enough to cause me to consider coloring my hair. That would take too much time.

Today, in anticipation of the big wedding we are going to next Saturday, I asked my hairstylist to cut my hair shorter in the back so I could attempt to not look like a little Dutch boy. She took photos of the back. Wow. I quickly sent them to Carter and told her it was going to be her job to try and recreate this. She altered me to the products I would need. This is going to be another virgin territory, the purchasing of hair spray.

I think I should practice. Maybe on my drive north I can try and do my hair everyday. Wait, when will there be time for that? I don’t think I can drive and do my hair at the same time.

So I post these photos so those of you who see me next weekend can know what I was supposed to look like. The only part I promise will be the same is the color. If it ain’t broke.

Farewell Bonnie

Three Sundays ago at the beginning of church our pastor added a name to our prayer list. When a name is added it means that this addition just came up in the last two or three days as the other prayer concerns are printed in our bulletin.

“Please add Bonnie Derr to the prayer concerns. She was just diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer.” A ripple of shock swept over the congregation. Bonnie has been a member of our church along with her husband Dailey for 50 years. She has served in every possible way and was beloved.

I did what you are not supposed to do in church, but I googled stage 4 lung cancer. Not good. Four months seemed to be like a reasonable amount of time to have with it. Bonnie only made it two weeks.

As a member of the funeral committee I got the news on the early side. So sad. She was a couple months shy of her 80th birthday, but I would have guessed she was younger to look at, but older by her life’s accomplishments.

So I went to church twice today. Once for regular church and once for Bonnie’s funeral.

I am not always able to go to funerals or memorials. So I often pray for others who have passed away at other people’s services. I figure no one knows when I silently add a name or think of who else these friends will be meeting in heaven’s waiting room. Nancy Dougherty passed away last month and she was only 74. John Cadigan was taken last month at only 62. I couldn’t go to either of their services, so I prayed for them today along with Bonnie.

None of us knows how long we have. We may have a long goodbye or a sudden departure. Try and be good with those you care about because there may not be time to tell them how you feel.

Let people know what your final wishes are. It is so much easier for the family if they have a script to follow. I often take note of music I like. One thing I said to my friend David Anderson who sat next to me at the funeral is, “I want Jim Ketch to live forever so he can play the trumpet at my service.” David said, “Me too.” So Jim, keep practicing, I need you around for another twenty five years. Trumpeters can play until 100 I hope.

Dog Anxiety Weather

It’s hard to get anything done when you have to snuggle your dog because the storm is so big. Shay demanded Russ to be with her, but he wanted to get his steps. So I was called into replace Russ.

Shay had her place on her home base, our bed. I turned on the Olympics and she snuggled up against me so hard the little 22 pound dog almost pushed me off the bed. The rain came down hard. The trees swayed in the big wind. There was not much thunder, but who could tell with the loud noise that buckets of water made hitting the roof.

I looked out the window to see our driveway now a river, and it’s gravel. I hope my down hill neighbor’s drains are not clogged.

This rain keeps coming and coming and it is not a tropical storm. That is still days away. I hope that it will be dry on my drive to the north. I can’t snuggle with Shay while I am driving.

Worst Growing Season Ever

My garden was a huge failure this year. I changed out much of my raised bed fill in the spring. Russ made sure there was never a weed. I gathered seedlings from the farmer’s market, gentleman farmer friend Iain Sanderson, and from my master gardener plumbers the Whaley Brothers.

So my garden was good, my plants were superior and it went down hill from there. We had the hottest and driest six weeks in May and June. Then we had record rains in July. I got a few tomatoes, a few cucumbers, 1 zucchini, many peppers from two plants and none from eight others, a good amount of Japanese eggplant, one round of green beans and a ton of basil.

It was by far my worst harvest in my long history of growing vegetables. I was feeling like a total failure. Granted I was away working during lots of these horrible weather events, not that I could protect anything, but I wasn’t around to hold their hands.

Monday I had reason to call my plumber John, who is now retired (boo hoo). After discussing my plumbing needs in the future and who I was to call he asked me about my garden. I practically broke into tears to confess to him my total failure.

He said his results were worse. Out of 12 plants not a tomato was harvested. I was heart broken for him, as he is usually able to grow a years worth of food each summer, but I felt vindicated that I was perhaps not at fault.

I know that when it gets over 90° tomatoes won’t fruit, but I was hopeful that a cool evening once in a while might have made a tomato. NO.

Now I have no guilt leaving my garden untended. It is like a Halloween horror house. Rather than tearing out the half of plants I still have I should just leave them until October and give out candy from the garden and scare the hell out of kids.

Farewell growing season. I’ll plant some arugula in September.

International Mah Jongg Day

As a twenty five year Mah Jongg teacher I had no idea there was an International Mah Jongg day, let alone that it is today. Of course everything gets a day these days; four finger persons day, people with two different color eyes day, hot dogs with Chili day. So International Mah Jongg day is not weird.

Thanks to my Facebook friends for alerting me to this very important day. Given my position in the American Mah Jongg world I would be remiss not to recognize it. What I am uncertain of is how we are to celebrate all the forty plus variations of the game of mah Jongg, not to mention all the junior ways of playing all those games.

For the uninitiated, American Mah Jongg has Jokers and most Asian Mah Jonggs do not. So for the subset who play American Mah Jongg I think the correct well wish to give you on this day is, “Wishing you many Jokers today.”

As I am not an expert on the other types I will leave the correct celebration phrase up to those who play those games.

If you haven’t learned to play Mah Jongg what are you waiting for? It has an international day. I’m not sure Parcheesi can say the same thing. I am certain Bunco does not.

I have upcoming classes with available spaces at Carolina Country Club in Raleigh September 17-19, Benvenue Country club in Rocky Mount September 30- Oct. 2, and in Cary at Home for Entertaining October 8-10. Isn’t time to join the international set?

Visits

As I am going away for six weeks I wanted to have some visits with Durham friends I am going to miss while I’m gone. I started my day with Christy and Mary Lloyd. I then went to lunch with Lynn and ended the afternoon with Jan and her daughter Kim coming to see me on their way back to the mountains.

Jan had her second Chemo treatment yesterday and Kim went with her. It was a long day as they did not get into a treatment room until more than an hour after her scheduled time. Jan is doing great. They predicted her hair would fall out weeks ago and she still has it. She has buzzed it short so when it does fall out it won’t be big clumps.

She told me it has started to fluff out, but I told her she had more hair than I have without chemo. The good news is she has a really nice shaped head. I told her so since she can’t tell from the side.

Then tonight I had a multi hours long call with my friend Tricia who I haven’t talked to in ages. One call leads us into the need for three of four more calls since she is trying to make the world healthy. There is just not enough time in the day to keep up with everyone. What’s it going to be like when I get home in six weeks?

Making a List

I have a big road trip planned. Shay and I will be traveling up the east coast together. We have about eleven days on the road before we go to Maine. Planning a dog road trip is a much harder than a human only trip.

Shay has already approved of her new dog safety seat which was a birthday gift from my father in law. She sits up high and can see out of the window while being harnessed in. That makes me more comfortable. So the car travel part is checked off the list.

The harder thing is her eating. She is picky on a good day. She will eat fresh chicken, but prefers steak. She will not be getting steak on this road trip. I will bring Chicken and that means I have to keep it cold. To ensure that happens I have to have a refrigerator every night with a freezer to refreeze her ice blocks. Oh the planning that goes into traveling with Shay.

The good thing about taking a trip with her is I make sure to stop and stretch our legs more often than if I am driving alone. I know I need this too so stopping for her to go potty will be good for me.

So my list of things to bring for her include, water bottles she can drink out of, towels and wipes for clean up, plastic eating bowls with covers, cooler, ice blocks, medications, food, extra water, poop bags and trash bags.

I have not started the list I need for myself. Maybe phone and keys will be enough.

The Happiness Shot the Olympics Brings

I purposely took this week off from teaching so I could get prepared for Maine and my pre Maine trip. What I did not realize is I was also going to be home with access to many TVs to watch the Olympics.

So today I altered the dress I am wearing to the big wedding in New Hampshire in 12 days, while watching the Men’s Gymnastics. It is hard to sew and watch the vault. If you blink you will miss it. So I watched more than I sewed.

I also watched the American women play the Chinese women in volleyball. Not the best outcome, but a very exciting match. I missed the women’s basketball because it must have been fast.

All this highest level sport and the world’s best commentators is such a nice break from politics. The honesty in the competition is so refreshing. I used to take it for granted, but the last eight years with the professional liar getting so much attention has changed things.

Please can we go back to agreeing that there is a difference between facts and opinions. You can still have an opinion, but you can’t change the facts.

I am going to do my best to watch some Olympic contest everyday until it is over because it just makes me happy. I don’t get bummed if the winner is not American, but celebrate the triumph of the winner, wherever they are from.

We have 99 days until the election, taking 14 out to watch the Olympics won’t change anything.

One Smart Puppy

This weekend we had guests. Shay usually thinks all people who come to the house come for her. She was excited to greet the friends at five. She showed them around and accepted the love she was shown.

Six is her normal dinner time and Russ made sure she was not let down. While the humans had dinner she hung on her bed Russ placed beside him in the dining room. After Russ finished eating she demanded to sit on his lap with her head on the table.

By 7:30 she was not happy we were still at the table. She came up to me and started demanding my attention. It was time for her to go up to her home base, our bed. She wanted to herd me up there.

Russ picked her up up and carried her up to bed like a toddler who had stayed up too late. We never heard another peep from her until Russ and I came up to bed at 11:45.

We came in our room and found her snuggled on our bed with her head buried to shield her eyes from the lights that were left on. She didn’t wake when we got into bed. This baby knew when her bed time was and she made sure to get her beauty sleep.

I don’t blame her. I have not gotten enough sleep all weekend. After our friends enjoyed breakfast with us they got on the road and I watched the men’s basketball game on the Olympics before going to teach mah Jongg.

I came home to Shay wanting to herd me up to bed. I am going with her tonight. I think she knows when we need sleep. She’s one smart puppy.

Mini Dickinson Reunion

I’ve got fifteen minutes to write and post this blog. We had a little Dickinson Reunion of two of my best friends, Doug Soder and Dave Harnish and some of their family members.

Doug and Penny just moved to Pinehurst which makes us very happy. Dave and Cindy’s daughter Deitra is coming to NC State in the fall for graduate school and they came to see the school and visit Cindy’s nephew Ed. So they all came to our house for dinner tonight.

We had great fun and it was wonderful to be together at something other than a funeral. Doug and Penny are spending the night because we knew it would be a long party and it would just be too late for them to go home.

Even though everyone came at 5:00 we stayed up talking until almost midnight and I had not written my blog before they got here.

I did have the forethought to get a group photo of as all at the dining room table. The only problem is I have not learned how to use my new phone to take photos. Even the young people Deitra and Ed were not much help in teaching me, so here are the series of what I got.

Deitra did take a photo of Doug, Dave and myself so we can send it into Dickinson. We look forward to lots more North Carolina reunions now that we are getting a critical mass in North Carolina. Suzanne and Janet, you need to come next time.

Olympic Break

Any minute now I am going to begin that two week period where I become an expert in so many sports and ignore everything else on earth. I think it is fabulous that the summer Olympics come in the same year as our presidential elections.

This pause in other news gives us a chance to celebrate what is great in the world and stop arguing. It makes us focus on young people who have spent a lifetime perfecting something. We learn the stories of athletes from all over the world and how they came to be Olympians.

I love following underdogs from small nations. I love learning the ins and outs of obscure sports. I love the honesty of Olympic Sports. I pray for no intrigue and no cheating.

I love the human interest stories and getting to see the beauty of the host country. I love Paris and can’t wait to spend two weeks immersing myself in all things Paris 2024.

How Did America Turn So Mean?

So much for any unity or civility. I watched A clip from a Trump rally in my home state of North Carolina. “I’m not going to be nice,” Trump said. No surprise to me. A tiger doesn’t change its strips. It wasn’t Trump or his statement that bothered me. It was the meanness coming from the crowd. Here in the genteel south.

Last month I listened to the Supreme courts ruling about towns being able to tear down homeless encampments and prevent people from sleep outdoors in public places. Yes, no one wants people living outside, especially if it is next to your house or on your walk to work, but making it illegal to sleep outside without an alternative for these people is just mean. Now for a large percentage of our nation mean is Ok.

I can sometimes be mean. I was not very nice to someone earlier in the week. I thought about it and made amends the next day. Now I am working to try and help that person. I felt better trying to help than I did being mean.

I am dismayed when people I think of as half decent repost things on Facebook that are just mean. Then I read who else liked it and who else commented in the affirmative. These are people who would have died if they were considered anything but nice ten years ago. Now they are outright, publicly mean.

Why did this become acceptable. Just because Trump has talked this way for so long, should not give you permission to also be mean. Mean is easy, it’s lazy, it’s not smart.

I would like to bring back a little more public civility and a little less meanness. Tearing up an encampment of a homeless person just takes away what little they have. It just sets them back even further. It makes all the burdens of living without that much harder.

I would like to encourage anyone reading this to just try and be a little nicer for the rest of the year. I am going to try myself. That does not mean I won’t write about things I think are just wrong, but not in a mean or cruel way. Maybe it’s time America tried to be a little more like Canada.

Big Moves

While I am at the beach for my final night of teaching here this summer, Carter is at her Boston Apartment for her last night on Beacon Hill.

I have had a great summer teaching on the coast, five times in the Morehead/Atlantic Beach/Beaufort area. Twice in the Wilmington area, once in New Bern. I know it’s only July 24, but soon I’m off on other adventures. I am ever grateful to all my hostesses who make coming to the coast so fun. This trip I am with the sweet Kristi Blizard. She organized a fun girls dinner with Ashley, Sarah, Susan and Terry. Thanks to these dear Mah Jongg friends.

Carter is in Boston preparing to make her first move without any parental unit help. She has lived on Mt. Vernon St. in Beacon Hill for over two years now in her darling fifth floor walk up apartment. It was a fabulous place, on the best street, if you ignored the steps.

Now she is moving further from the capital, which sits one block from her apartment, out to Dorchester to move into a two bedroom with Claire and Norman. It is a big move to a building with conveniences she is most excited about, like central air, a trash room, assigned indoor garage parking and more space, but mostly Claire and a great dog.

This will be the first move she has made all on her own. She booked the movers and sold half her furniture, donated old clothes, packed up her plants and is ready to go.

I am so thankful she is not moving on August 30 as the whole city of Boston moves that night and is homeless with all their belongings for a night awaiting September 1 rentals.

I can’t wait to visit Carter and Claire in their new place in August. We will miss Beacon Hill, but we love Claire so it is a wonderful move.

Good luck with the move. This is big time adulting now.

Women, Your Vote May Save Your Life

For my young life I was a Republican. I came from republicans. They were white, college educated and lived in the suburbs. I didn’t think a lot about it as a child and a young person. I was just going along with what was the norm in my family.

Then when I was in my late twenties, my youngest sister came out. I had known she was gay since she was five. She was always the best sister, smartest one in the family, best student, athlete and person. About that time Rush Limbaugh was gaining prominence and Republicans were starting to be mean. The “Moral Majority” as they liked to falsely call themselves started to have opinions about anyone who was not sis gendered, straight, white, and rich enough.

Suddenly there was a party who did not see my sister as being equal. My college and MBA educated, business owning sister could have fewer rights because she was born liking women more than men. How is that even an issue? She was successful, employed lots of people, paid lots of taxes, yet you think she should be forced to be unequal.

This is how I was driven out of the Republican Party. I could not support a party who did not think all people had the same rights. Anyone who is related to a gay person or treasurers a gay friend should decide if voting for Trump/Vance is worth what might happen to your loved one.

Now let’s just talk about women. Not gay women, but all women. Trump/Vance is as anti woman as a a pair of candidates can be. JD does not believe women should have control of their own bodies, he does not believe in no-fault divorce making women stay in abusive marriages, and does not support child care so women can work. These policies are from the 1950’s, 75 yers ago!

I am not sure how any women or any man who loves his wife, daughters and grand daughters can support these men with these policies. They are not hiding the fact that they want to change America and make the lives of women very different.

Now if you personally want these policies for yourself, you are free to stay in an abusive marriage, and let men make decisions about your health care and not work and stay home with your children. No one is saying that you can’t do those things. I am asking that you don’t let a political party make those decisions for everyone else.

Republicans used to truly be for small government, meaning let people make their own decisions and not the government making them for you. It was a different party. That is not who the party is now.

For my daughter I can not let the government take away her rights that women faught to get. Once rights are taken away they are very hard to get back. You don’t have to tell your husband who you vote for, but if you don’t vote for yourself who knows what else you might be losing.

Physics and Civics Lesson

Today I was trying to drive home from Chapel Hill and I got to the intersection of Chapel Hill Rd and Garrett Rd and I saw a giant river flowing down Garret road. Cars were trying to forge that river. I knew better and did a u-turn and went another way.

We had a giant deluge today. This after lots of rain in the last few consecutive days. The ground is starting to fill up with much needed water again, but when it comes big and fast it has no where to go. This is an act of God.

Decades ago my friend Doug Soder told me a most important lesson his father taught him. “You always buy the house at the top of the hill. There is nothing you can do about water. It always flows down hill.”

This is a lesson lost on those who live on the down hill side. They often complain about water flowing on to their property. The statues concerning water are very clear about who is responsible for water. They say that the lower estate must receive and pass the water from the higher estate.

The reason for this is gravity which is a law of nature. Water is going to run down hill and there is not a lot you can do about it. The one thing you can do is have as many permeable surfaces as possible.

I live on the high side, but water still runs from one side of my property to another. I have a gravel driveway which helps slow the flow of water, I have landscaping and mulch for the same reason. But water is always going to flow down hill. People on the top of the hill are not responsible for the water flowing down the hill. That is the end of this physics and civics lesson. You cannot blame the people at the top of the hill when water flows down hill no matter what that water does when it goes downhill.

Thanks Joe

Two weeks ago I was at the beach teaching. The big discussion was what was going to happen in the election. It was post the debate, pre the shooting at the rally. I went to breakfast with two dear friends, one red and one blue. The red one, who I love and adore, asked me what I thought was going to happen.

I said, “I think Biden will drop out, but not until after the Republican convention. It does no good to give Trump that time to figure out what he is up against.” I followed that up by saying I was not blogging about it because I am just tiny bit superstitious and did not want to jinx it from happening.

That night I also discussed this possibility with the friends I was staying with. We all agreed that both candidates are too old and not good choices and the best thing that could happen would be to have a new, younger, choice.

Today I was teaching mah Jongg from 1-4. My watch kept blowing up, but I could not stop to see what was going on. Towards the end of class one of the students told me why she had kept looking at her phone. It was general excitement on all our parts.

Joe has done an extraordinary job. He has gotten more done in four years. He steadied the ship. He got us through the pandemic. He renewed our standing in the world. He got infrastructure money passed and has started rebuilding important bridges, roads, and transportation hubs all over the country. He brought American manufacturing jobs back and ensured that America can provide vital parts with the Chips act. The stock market is up, inflation is coming down, wages are up, especially for the lower and middle class. Crime is down.

Joe deserves credit for all these things and now he has done the selfless thing of dropping out. Something rarely done in the world. Most people do not recognize their own decline. Trump certainly does not recognize his. He can hardly put two sentences not on the teleprompter together. It is pure selfishness for him to run, but then again he is doing it to try and stay out of jail. September and Judge Merchan are coming.

For all those people who said they would not vote for Trump or Biden because they both are too old, there is a new choice. It’s time to save America from the project 2025 fascist plan. It’s time to save democracy.

For those who vote Red because they think it will better for their personal fortunes, the conservative Moody’s analytics said that a Trump win will be very bad for the economy. Trump added more to the debt and not because of the Pandemic, but to give tax cuts to the rich.

And then there is the issue which needs to stay at the top of all women’s’ and those who love any woman minds, protection of women’s health care rights. Trump and the ones in his pocket are at war on women. We must not allow these men to continue to try and take women’s rights away.

Thanks Joe for all you have done. Finish strong and hand a good country off to Kamala.

I Like My Old Thing

I don’t buy new things just because. If something I have works, I am keeping it. First because I already know how to use it and second, why add stuff to the planet if I don’t need to. I keep cars a long time, I keep phones and electronics forever and I keep shoes until they fall apart.

I still have, and occasionally use the same stereo I had in college, with the addition of a cd player three years later. I have all my old albums and CD’s. I wish I had the cassette tapes I made when I would record the Casey Kasem top 40 every weekend off my original realistic stereo my Dad gave me when I was 10.

I have five half sheet pans I bought in 1983 for my catering business and I use them weekly still. I know I bought them for $5 each.

I have had an IPhone X for the last seven years. I still have it, but recently the memory was getting filled up and it kept telling me it couldn’t save a photo or download mail. I cleaned everything off that phone I could, but the system data kept filling up.

I went so far as sleeping with the IT guy in hopes of his fixing it. Even Russ couldn’t he get it fixed. So off to the Apple Store we went. The genius cleaned out my Safari cache, I write that like I know what it means.

It made little difference. So Russ told me it was time for a new, bigger memory, bigger camera, bigger everything phone. I had been holding out for the 16, but I said I would give in for the 15 pro max. Pro Max sounds redundant.

Since I did not want to import any issue my old phone had, I am manually reloading my apps. This is one of the reasons I didn’t want to get a new phone. I have to unpair and re-pair everything. I have to remember all my user names and passwords for banks I rarely go to.

I am yet to take a photo with my much better camera because the only thing I want to take a photo of is the phone and it’s not so good that it can take a selfie of itself.

I will be happy to have this new phone for the wedding we are going to next month, but I don’t think it will fit in my evening bag. This might mean a new purse is required. Not good, I have a beautiful one I bought 25 years ago.

I got a new car this year,that was a hard enough change. Now a new phone. I may have to go lay down. So much to learn how to use. Now I have to sleep with the IT guy who bought me this phone.

Sitting in the Dark

No rain for a month and a half and now we have had big rain multiple days in a row. This afternoon we had a deluge. Wednesday when I was driving home from the beach I drove through that kind of rain you can’t see through. I put my flashers on and slowed down, but not to the five MPH that some people did. People, if you are afraid to drive in big rain, please pull your car off to the side of the road. I don’t want someone to rear end you because they didn’t see you until it was too late.

Today I was home doing some deep cleaning. That means I polished TV screens until they gleamed. I had he robot vacuum running from room to room as Shay watched me use a q-tip in the crevices of baseboards. Trust me, it’s satisfying, even if it uses a bunch of Q-tips.

As the robot was running around the sunroom and I was picking up dog toys, I heard a pop. The electricity went out. The rain was coming down so hard that I could not hear all my many neighbor’s generators come on.

Thankfully the robot was able to keep cleaning until the battery ran down. I decided it was too dark to continue my baseboard work. Shay headed me up to her home base, our bed. She feels safest there, but she really shouldn’t since it is on the top floor.

It wasn’t that windy so I was not worried about a tree coming down on the house. My phone was at 50% and my iPad 68% so I opted to play a game on my iPad that did not need connectivity. Without power our signal booster is out so we get the pitiful one bar and no WiFi.

Duke Energy texted they knew the power was out and predicted it would come back by 6:30. We shall see.

At least we are filling up the ground water. It is going to rain some everyday this week. I guess I need to be charging everything at all times. Especially the vacuum.

Post Script: I wrote this while the power was out. I got a two texts at the same time at 6:19. The first one said the power would be back on at 9:45. The second one said the power was back on. Since I didn’t have any lights on when the power went out I didn’t notice it was back on. Thank goodness the first text was wrong.

Goodbye Bob Newhart

The funnier someone is the smarter they are. There can be smart people who are not funny, but there rarely are funny people who are not smart. Of course there are lots of kinds of funny. My favorite is dry, droll, ironic funny. Bob Newhart was that kind of funny.

He never raised his voice. He did sometime make fun of someone less brilliant, but often in a way that the person did not understand was a slight, because they just weren’t smart enough.

As a child I never missed an episode of the Bob Newhart show as I certainly was always home on Saturday nights, either with a babysitter or being the baby sitter. My sister’s were a little too young to “get” Bob’s sense of humor, which is sad, because they certainly would have loved it.

Most people think of themselves as funny. Actually most of them aren’t. There is hardly anyone as funny as Bob Newhart. He will be greatly missed.

The Best Recipe

When I was in boarding school I had the best roommate, Nancy Mack. Nancy had the best Mom, Jane. Jane was a superior Mother, Doctor, and Baker. I was always in awe of all that Jane did. She worked full time as the pediatrician for a whole town. She raised five children and kept Nancy’s Dad, also a Doctor, in line.

Sometimes she would just pop up to school and take Nancy and me out to lunch and then leave Nancy a tin of homemade snickerdoodles.

These snickerdoodles were so far superior to any other cookies on earth that we would talk about them long after they had been consumed. Since I had a mother who not only did not bake or eat cookies I especially appreciated Jane.

Today Nancy shared her mother’s hand written recipe. She said it is too good not to share. So I share it with you, with Nancy’s clarifying notes. I did ask Nancy what her mother meant by “shortening” and she confirmed it was always Butter.

So do yourself a favor and bake these cookies. I wish Jane were still alive so I could run a batch by her to get her opinion. I am going to have to make some next time I see Nancy so we can have them with milk just like we did at Walkers. They are a happy memory.

Figure Eight At Last

Thanks to Margie Springer, we brought Mah Jongg classes to Figure Eight. I love expanding to new beaches and new clubs. Margie asked me in February and she made this happen. I had 19 great students today for day one and tomorrow we add more for the more advanced play lesson.

Margie has been kind enough to host me at her beautiful house with her husband and son Curtis as well as her sister Caroline. Margie and I played Siamese Mah Jongg after I finished class and she won plenty.

Then we went back to the yacht club for dinner. It was during dinner that we discovered we both had great grandfathers in Charlottesville, VA at the same time in the early 1910’s.

After dinner we came back to their house and play Mexican Train Dominos. This is my kind of game playing family. Thanks to Margie for getting Mah Jongg going at Figure Eight.

Do you have a Rising Junior or Senior in High School?

I have a brilliant friend, Kristin Hiemstra. She is a super women, coach, leader, TedX speaker and fabulous college counselor. She worked for sixteen years in college counseling in the Chapel Hill school system. She went on to do more adult and organization coaching, but has found herself drawn back into college counseling.

Not all schools have the resources necessary to provide kids with the kind of help they need to figure out what they are interested in, what might be the best path to get there and what is realistic for them given their strengths.

Parents are not always the best judges about their own kids. Oh the horror stories I have heard. The parents who insist their little darling is Ivy League material, so they encouraged that child to apply only to the Ivies, not to get into a single one.

Or the parent, fearing costs, discourages a well qualified candidate to dial back their choices because they don’t know how to manage to money side of higher education.

I knew one family whose child was miserable in math, only apply to a business program at big university where he was qualified for a different program, but not business. He was rejected and ended up at a much lower standing school because it was the only business program that would take him with such poor math scores. If only he had known he could have gotten into a general studies program and taken business courses to see if he even liked them. The end of the story is he dropped out of the business program because it was not where his interest or strengths were. If only his parents had a third party work with the kid to figure this out before wasting two year’s tuition with nothing to show for it.

My friend Kristin is that person to talk with. Her college counseling business is called the Art Of potential and that is exactly what she teases out of high school kids to help them on their journey.

You can find Kristin on Linkdin or I am happy to put you in touch with her. She can work remotely so you don’t need to be close to Chapel Hill. She’s the real deal.

The Elephant in the Room

Yesterday’s tragic shooting at Trump and the supporters who were hit is not the way we solve public discourse. I am thankful that so far everyone has said the obvious, “We condemn political violence.”

Biden has called for us to bring the temperature down. I pray that everyone does that and it comes from all sides.

What I have not heard is any talk about why anyone needs a rifle powerful enough to shoot 400 yards with great precision. The 20 year old shooter apparently had his father AR style weapon.

I have long been an advocate for gun control. Other countries do not have these kinds of shootings as they have common sense gun laws. We have an out of control number of mass shootings growing every year.

I hear from friends abroad who say they won’t come to the US for vacation because they think it is too dangerous. I can’t blame them when we have a mass shooting on average more than one per day. Averaging over 500 per year.

Now that Trump has been shot at and hit by an AR style weapon, I wonder if his stance on these military style guns will change? You can’t hunt with them, unless you are hunting people.

When will we ever have the guts to change this in America?

Processing Tomatoes

I bought this one box of Roma tomatoes. Usually when you buy a box of tomatoes the top ones are the beauties and the bottom ones are the dogs. Not in this case. Every single one of these tomatoes was perfect!

I started by making two tomato pies. Then I made a giant pot of tomato sauce. I used my largest Dutch oven and put in 30 tomatoes and two giant sweet onions. Cooked it for five hours and when it was all said and done it was two quarts. But it is beautiful, especially since I put in my fresh basil which has flourished when everything else failed.

Lastly, I cut 18 tomatoes in half and seeded them and slow roasted them in the oven with some olive oil and balsamic vinegar. I just turned the oven off after four hours and are letting them sit in the oven until tomorrow.

All that cooking and I still have one third of a box of maters left. I will probably roast all of them since that is the least amount of work for me. Once roasted they can be frozen to make into sauce, soup or other ingredient in a future concoction.

Those were not the only tomatoes I bought. So we will be eating BLT’s tomorrow and anything else I can think of with tomatoes.

I also made a nectarine, cucumber and tomato salad today that we had for lunch with burratta.

We had tomato pie and corn for dinner. Outside of bacon, I can not think of when we might eat meat again. We have a few more vegetables to get through.

Storage Management

I need a new phone. My storage keeps getting full. Apple is going to stop supporting mine. Outside of those issues it is perfectly fine for me. I wouldn’t get a new phone otherwise.

Here’s the problem. Russ says I should wait for the IPhone 16 since it is going to be such a big departure from the 15. I would like to have a new phone when I go to my best friend’s daughter’s wedding, but the timing is not right. So I will go with my old phone.

My old phone still takes great photos, but my storage is full. I keep deleting things and it fills right back up. I hate that I have to have apps to get into museums. I don’t need the app, just let me buy a ticket and come in.

People send me videos. I watch them, but forget to delete them. Someone how I mistakenly store them. I can’t tell you how many times I mistakenly take a screen shot. It gets stored. I listen to books and they are stored. Phone management takes up way too much of my time.

What I really hate is as soon as I get a new phone they will announce what new features will be on the next one and I will want those. I won’t succumb to getting a new phone every year just to get what little improvements have been made, but I do wish they would wait a little more than a year before releasing new and improved phones.

It’s not social media that takes up my time, it’s storage management. UGH!

Just Buy the Tomatoes

Russ let me know that my tomato plants have suffered catastrophically from weeks of heat. If it is too hot the plants won’t fruit, but more than not just getting tomatoes, my plants are suffering.

I am going to have to put them out of their misery this weekend. I might cut some way back and see if they can recover, but the idea of getting tomatoes from them seems futile.

With that news from Russ, I stopped at a farm stand on the way home from the beach today. Beautiful tomatoes for $2.75 for slicing and eating. Tomato pie is in the future. Even better was the box of Roma tomatoes for $25. I will be making sauce and soup and dried tomatoes this weekend.

Gardening is heart breaking. Supporting a local farmer is actually cheaper than trying to grow things and fail.

It’s too hot to spend a lot of time in the garden. Being in an air conditioned kitchen processing vegetables someone else grew is fine with me. At least I am not worrying about fighting the squirrels.

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.