Doing My Bit

Earlier in the year the Sandhill Branch of the Food Bank of Central and Eastern NC asked me to help them with their Chef’s Feast fundraiser. Of course I was happy to help. So we had many conference calls and email exchanges and I gave them my opinion all along the way. Opinions are something I am ever short on.

After doing these event kind of fundraisers for 20 or so years I have a good understanding of what works and what doesn’t. I used to be more forceful about giving advice, but recently I have lightened up in my adamance. Now I try and say, “In my experience…” and if my advice is followed, great, if not so be it.

On live auction items I am a fairly good judge about how much something will sell for, but I love being proven wrong when something goes for so much more than anticipated. Tonight we had an item I knew would sell well because it was an experience that you could not buy. It was a 90 second supermarket sweep in a Food Lion Store. You get one cart and can take anything you can put in the cart or on your person in 90 seconds, just no alcohol, tobacco or drugs. The really cool thing is Food Lion will also ring up all the items the winner sweeps and match the dollar amount and give that to the Food Bank.

Thanks to Food Lion for always being a great sponsor. Your auction item is my favorite. I was happy to help the Sandhills raise these funds. I always wish we could get more. The chef’s who made food for guests got a standing ovation and that always is a nice thing. I am certain people had a good meal and went always with a little better understanding of the work of the Food Bank.

No Power Parental Refuges

Friday when my power had been out about 18 hours I got a call from my Dad who was up at the farm.

“Do you have power?” He asked.

“No, do you?” I responded

“No, but it’s Ok your Mom is at the beach.”

Well, OK is only OK for a little while. It was not a great thing for my 80 year old father to be alone on a thousand acres, with no power, which meant no water and no computer to keep him entertained. I told him to come to my house where at least we have water. He said no, he had lots of trees to clean up.

Well yesterday my mother returned from the beach. My father had already cleaned out all his many refrigerators so that my mother could not argue about “how” spoiled things were and perhaps it wouldn’t kill them to eat that seven year old frozen fish.

When we got our power yesterday I called my parents and told them to come here. They waited until today to do it. As I was getting ready to cook dinner they got a call from the automated Duke Power system saying their power was on. Alleluia. They were here for the night and I was making dinner, but this meant my mother could go back for her Wednesday Bridge game.

While we were eating dinner both my parents phones got calls from the relative grape vine that in fact their power was not on. So Russ got on the Duke website and sure enough it shows not on. My mother yells at my father to call Duke , my father yells at my mother that he will do it. I get yelled at. I yell back, stop yelling at me. Life with two deaf 80 year old who might be slightly dehydrated. Please lord get the power back on.

The Power Is Back on Cauliflower Soup

Duke Power’s website showed we were not supposed to get the power back on until midnight Monday night. We have been surviving fine, but I felt like I needed to clean the house because despite not being able to see the dirt I could feel it. So the plan today was to go shower at Lynn’s first thing this morning, go be the lector at church and then come home and sweep and mop.

After parking the car in the driveway after church I thought I would check my email while I still had power to my phone. As I looked at my phone I was surprised that I three bars. Then an even better surprise, I had WiFi. THE POWER WAS ON!

What a wonderful surprise and a blessing. So no sweeping, but instead vacuuming. I quickly ran the battery down on the vacuum, but I mopped and did five loads of laundry.

Now that we had power I decided to cook. I was craving some soup so I made a cream of cauliflower inspired by a vegan recipe I read yesterday. I didn’t make it vegan, just added cashews for some depth of flavor.

1 sweet onion chopped

1 T. Olive oil

1 head of cauliflower

1/2 t. Thyme

2 cups of half and half

1/4 cup of cashews

Put the oil and onions in a soup pot and cook on medium high for five minutes. Add the cauliflower broken into florets and a big pinch of salt. Stir it around to coat the cauliflower with the oil. Add 1/3 of a cup of water and cover and steam for seven minutes. Add the half and half and another 1/2 cup of water and the thyme and some more salt and fresh ground pepper. Cover and simmer for 15 more minutes.

While cooking toast the cashews in a small fry pan of medium heat. Add them to the pot after the 15 minutes is up. Using a stick blender purée everything. Taste for seasoning.

See I needed the electricity so I could blend the soup!

I hope you have your power back on.

Wedding Nightmares

My friend Christina and her husband Francois own an Inn where her husband sometimes would let people have their weddings. He did all the work for setting those events up and took care of all the inevitable last minute details. Sadly, Francois passed away earlier this year, leaving Christina with the Inn to run alone. She switched from a B&B to and Air B&B, which saved her from having to cook for and serve guests alone.

But there was one event Francois had booked a year ago, a wedding this weekend. Christina liked the young couple so she kept the commitment. About a months ago, with this wedding looming she asked me if I could come out and help her with it given my wedding catering experience. I was happy to help. We were not going to be the caterers, but there is always a lot of last minute things to be handled at a wedding venue and without Francois to be the tough one Christina needed me to come and run interference or play bad cop as needed.

Well, lots was needed. First hurricane Micheal came through and blew down a huge tree right in front of the front door of the Inn. Then, like everyone in the area the Inn lost its power. So did the caterers, who said they could not make food.

Well, things got worked out. The caterers called another restaurant and had them make the food. Christina had a portable generator that was able to power enough of the Inn so the bridal party could stay in the rooms. The fallen tree was not in the way of the ceremony site or the tent so it just acted like a fence. Seemed like things were on track. Something always goes wrong at a wedding and if this was it, great.

This afternoon I drove out to Christina’s. I met the groom and groomsmen, all whose bow ties I had to tie. It was a little less than two hours before the wedding was to start and I was a little concerned the caterers were not there yet and neither was the band.

A woman from a local Inn when the band was going to be staying was wondering where the band was too. Apparently they were supposed to have gotten to the Inn, unloaded their equipment, set up and done sound check all before 3:00, when they would go back to the Inn with her and change for the wedding.

About 3:45 the band of about seven middle to old guys pulled up in their white van with a trailer of equipment. They asked where they were supposed to set up and the tent across the field was pointed out to them. One big issue, the hurricane had made things so wet that they could not use the van to pull the trailer across the field for fear of it sinking in the ground.

Christina, her friend Deb and I all volunteered to help the seven men move the equipment on dollies to the tent. They would have none of that. Then we asked one of Christina’s friends, who was at the Inn helping if he could use his truck to pull the van. The band made no attempt to help of even try to figure out how to do the job. It was apparent they would have liked to turn around and go home to South Carolina where they had come from.

The first truck did not have the right hitch, which was discovered forty-five minutes after trying to make it work. Another workman who had shown up to get the power back on tried his truck and that successfully pulled the musical equipment to the tent.

They got it unloaded just as the guests were arriving for the wedding. So the set up happened, but no sound check. Then they discovered the generator they had for the tent was not starting. Thankfully the friend came back and fixed that. Just then the power to the Inn was restored and it blew the septic tank up a little so stuff was gushing out of the ground for a few minutes. Thankfully no guests seemed to notice.

The food arrived via Honda Accord and the caterers carried the platters across the field, just behind the guests sitting waiting for the wedding to start. The ceremony took place and the bride and groom were beautiful and happy.

As the couple were getting their pictures taken and the guests were enjoying drinks and some nibbles, the seven members of the band came to us to ask where they could change their clothes. Christina showed them to the out door shower room and they balked at this. They had clothes they wanted to iron and rooms to change in.

I was about to say that if they had arrived on time they would have had a chance to change at the Inn they were staying at which was the plan, but I held back since I felt they were already inclined to walk away from this job. The head band guy then said he was going to ask the bride. Thankfully a bossy caterer put a stop to him bothering the bride with this ridiculous question and showed them to the port-a-potty tent where they changed.

When you are a wedding band you better be prepared to do some heavy lifting and bring your clothes already ironed and show up on time. These guys were not that band.

Christina got a good laugh out of the whole thing since she swears this is the last wedding she is ever having at the Inn. I was glad to be there to add some comic relief. My help was certainly not invaluable but I was able to teach the car parking people the right way to have the cars park after they had already parked three in the wrong direction.

I also ran interference when a couple pulled in in their big ass Mercedes SUV. It was a woman with way too much plastic surgery who said they were on a way to the foot ball game and she had a blog and want to take a few pictures of the Inn for her blog. As I was about to object her husband said, “She has 10,000 readers.” As if that meant they should get in the way of someone else’s wedding. I gave them ten minutes on one side of the house and it was apparent that they were using the Inn as the back drop for her personal photo shoot.

Later Christina and her friend Deb and I looked at the woman’s blog and got a big kick out of how lame it was. I will be looking for her shots of the Inn and see if she gives it any publicity after insisting on barging in.

So after what seemed like dozens of things going wrong it appeared the the very chill bride and groom had a good time. I don’t know how the band turned out because I was too exhausted to stay late into the party. This one last one Francois set up was one where he could have been used the most. I don’t think we will ever not miss Francois.

24 Hours Still No Power

When I heard the big pop behind our house yesterday and the house went dark my first thought was, “Oh shit, I need a shower.” Russ was at the office, where I told him to stay as I watched the trees bend at 45 degree angles one way and back another 45 the next. The last thing I wanted him doing was driving the convertible Smart car home in this storm. He rarely listens to me in these situations so thankfully he was very busy at work and didn’t have a chance to defy me.

I got out the large supply of flashlights and back up chargers and hung out in the relative darkness hoping the power would come back on. The storm passed through North Carolina fast, but not without dumping a huge amount of water and bringing these crazy winds. Micheal was everything Florence was not for us.

I got a very fitful sleep because I had an early morning commitment this morning. I was a member of a three person panel on how to run a good board meeting for a National Association of Corporate Director’s meeting. It started at 7:30 this morning and I was not feeling good about not having had a shower. I also had to change the outfit I had planned on wear since it needed to be ironed. Nothing like having to sit in an auditorium under the lights for half a day in front of a bunch of people you don’t know. Thankfully I kept them either engaged or laughing so no one thought, “Who the hell is this homeless person.”

After lunch at the meeting I went to a church friend’s office for a meeting and then wound my way home, praying that the power would be back on. No luck. Thankfully I had a way other than the garage door opener to get in the house. I had to make sure to bring my trusty flashlight in from using it to get out to the car in the dark this morning. As I approached the door I heard that horrible sound our alarm system makes when the back up battery has gone dead. It is a piercing noise that can’t be stopped until you unplug the battery. It took me a while to figure out how to find it and do it, but eventually I did it.

It is not too hot, nor too cold so living in the house without power is not uncomfortable, not having power to the two refrigerators is a pain. As I was contemplating what to do I noticed my next door neighbor had power. Yes, people around me have power, but we are a small pocket of few houses that don’t.

I called my neighbor and asked if we could “borrow” one extension cords worth of electricity until our power comes back on. Thank goodness for the kindness of the Martindale’s. Now my food is cooling again. I am going to wait until tomorrow before I open the door to the refrigerator and throw away what went bad. The freezers were still solid thanks to the large frozen blocks.

My Dad called me to see if we had power. At the farm they lost their power and he said he has never seen so much water there in his life. The whole soccer field my dad built a few years back was under water. I am more worried about my parents not having power since they have a well and they are old. Don’t tell them I said they are old.

So no internet, no TV, no sewing or cleaning. It’s like the olden days around here. We will go to bed when it gets dark and I will use one of the many flash lights to find my way around. Let’s pray I have a different story to tell tomorrow.

The Hurricane I Didn’t Expect

A couple of weeks ago we started getting the news about hurricane Florence coming to North Carolina. We had a week of news before hand. Everyone prepped. All the flash lights were brought out. Bags of ice were made and stored in the freezer to help keep food cold. Anything that might become a flying object was brought inside. Cars were gassed and cash was gathered.

Then Florence came, and stayed and stayed and stayed. Rain fell, but Durham was spared. Other parts of North Carolina were not so lucky. Lots of flooding happened. People will be out of their houses for a very long time. But we were fine.

Then this hurricane Michael popped up practically overnight. The pan handle of Florida was devastated from what I could tell on the news this morning. I didn’t think much more about it for us. I went to play bridge today. I could see the water pouring out the sky from the windows in the Bridge Academy, but I was more worried about making my bid.

I came home while it was still light out and it was still raining. Shay was glad to see me. I was on my bed reading my email and I thought the trees were bending over much more than in normal rain storms. Then I heard a big pop. My power went out. From what I can tell it is not out all over, my neighbors on two sides have power.

This was not the storm I was prepared for. I have very poor connectivity so I can’t look at radar. I have a very early morning tomorrow where I am supposed to be on a panel about non-profit board governance until lunch. I am praying the power comes back on because I really could use a shower and a working hair dryer. I also need to iron my outfit.

I guess I should have paid closer attention to the news and less attention to bridge.

Straw Improvement

I have always liked to drink from a straw. See, for a child of the sixties a straw meant that I was eating at a restaurant because the wasn’t such a thing as at-home straws. And eating at a restaurant was a very special occasion. Since I grew up in a “dry” town we didn’t have any real restaurants, just Orem’s Diner and a Friendly’s, neither of which we visited regularly, or in the case of Orem’s, ever. So a straw was a big deal, especially if it was a bendy straw.

As I got older straws became more common place. The invention of drive-thrus and car cup holders meant we had drinks with straws in them almost all the time, except not that much at home. Then I discovered that they sold bendy straws at the dollar store. My childhood dream fulfilled.

In the very recent past I learned that plastic disposable straws are environmental no-no’s because they end up in the ocean which eventually means they end up in fish, which means they eventually end up in us. So away with all plastic straws.

Yeah, it’s not so good for the skin around your lips to drink from straws, but what about in the car? Have you ever tied to drink from a glass while driving? You might break a tooth, or rear ended someone because your sightline is blocked.

Enter the reusable metal straw. It is a stainless steel tube with the perfect bend, you just can’t make that little sound of the lengthening and shortening a plastic bendy straw. The metal ones come with a little straw cleaning brush so you don’t have to worry if anything is growing inside your straw.

I bought a package of four straws and one cleaner from Groupon. I am just trying to do my part for the fish. Well, the best thing about these metal straws is they get cold sitting in your iced drink and as you sip from them the liquid traveling up the cold metal straw gets colder and is therefore much more refreshing! Ta-da, who would of thought?

So an environmental win that is an improvement. Now I like straws even better than when I was a kid and it doesn’t even involve going to a restaurant.

Vegetables Now Versus Vegetables Then

Russ texted me to see if I wanted to go out to dinner with one of his teammates. Since I had not actually cooked anything for dinner I said sure. Then Russ texted back that the teammate had too much work to get ready for a meeting tomorrow. “If you want to go out we can.” He texted back, thinking he had already gotten my hopes up.

I had a dinner out in Raleigh last night and was in no need to go out. “No, just come home, I am sure I can find something for us to eat.”

I pulled two frozen pieces of salmon out of the freezer that I packaged in individual portions because they thaw quickly. When Russ got home I gave him the news that I was going to cook the fish, but that was all I was going to cook fresh.

“No problem, I pull the containers out to see what we have.”

In the blink of an eye he had six different vegetable containers out on the counter. Amazingly there was no cross over of vegetables in any of them. I wondered why I bothered to make salmon.

I grew up in the 1960’s where every dinner had to contain one protein, one starch and one green vegetable. The idea of eating lots of colors had not entered the thinking. My mother was very strict about what qualified as a starch. Of course the easy ones were rice, potatoes and pasta, but corn and perhaps even carrots might get thrown in the starch category. Yeah, I agree corn is a starch, but not carrots. It was just because if she were going to let carrots qualify as the vegetable we might go a meal with no green. This was totally unacceptable.

The only caveat to the rule was spaghetti night. We ate a lot of hamburger in my childhood house. If it wasn’t an actual burger, it might be stuffed in a green pepper or made into spaghetti sauce. It would have made sense to have a green salad with spaghetti night, but salad was not a big thing in my childhood home. Perhaps because it had to be fresh and most of our vegetables were frozen.

I can only imagine what my sisters and I would have thought if my mother pulled all these vegetables out of the fridge. First of all there is only one green one amongst them and secondly we might have thought she was going to try and convince us that many of them qualified as a starch since they were not green.

Thank goodness I don’t have such strict dinner rules. I would go crazy trying to comply to the three item rule, but Russ wold be happy to have rice every night.

Where Did This Work Come From?

Perhaps it’s the never ending summer we have had, but I have been on an extended hiatus from any real work. For the last, say 20 years I have taken “summer off” from regular life. Now one might say my regular life is already “off,” but even for a person without full time employment I do even less in summer.

But just like kids going back to school, when the autumn comes I usually get more productive. No autumn and laziness sticks around. So it came as quite a shock to my system this week that suddenly I had tons of “work” to do and days that are full of obligations.

I spent the morning creating power points, and survey monkeys. Tonight I had a planning meeting in Raleigh for a panel I am going to be on Friday on Non-profit board management. Suddenly, I have real work to prepare for. I may even have to put on grown up shoes.

Meetings are scheduled, budgets need to get done, proposals need to be written. I had an organization send me an RFP for some top secret work. What do they thing I am, a working person?

I may be tired of the hot and humid weather, but I am not ready to give up my summer fun, non-guilt life of leisure. It seems like enough work for me to water the new shrubs and grass. I go out and look at the brown earth at least three times a day to make sure that everything is still moist. That is about all I really want to do. I may be retired but my retirement is exhausting.

Grandparent Technology

After the downer of the week politically we needed a night just to yucking it up so we had our old friends the Blanks over for dinner. We have been friends for for over 21 years so we have lots of background to laugh about.

We all had seen the story about it being the anniversary of a carbon paper on CBS Sunday Morning this morning, which got us talking about typing. All four of us had learned to type in either junior or senior high school and agreed it was probably the best thing we learned.

We juxtaposed it to our father’s who never learned to type until very late in life when they got computers.

Neither of my parents learned to type as young people and my Dad always had a secretary, even for years after he had retired, but now he is a fairly good typist. My mother is another story. She uses a computer, but does not capitalize or use punctuation, except she does use a comma acting as an apostrophe. I have read her emails out loud to her to show her how hard they are to understand without punctuation, but it doesn’t have any effect on her writing.

My friend Lane thought it was amazing my mom can e-mail, her mother doesn’t even do that, nor text. “But my Mom does have an Instagram account,” Lane said. I was amazed. I kind of think of emailing as required and Instagram as extra credit.

Lane went on to describe how she found out her Mom was Instagramming. “One day I got a suggestion I should follow Judyandrufus, (Rufus being her Mom’s dog). So I did.”

Lane pulled up her Mom’s Instagram account and showed me her screen without saying a word. There was a photo of what I presumed was her desk or counter with just a tiny bit of cord showing in the corner. I practically wet my pants I was laughing so hard.

“That’s not the first photo she posted, but the third. Sadly the first two are gone. The first one was also a photo of her desk with a bug on it. The second was just the desktop.”

Lane texted her daughter Isabel to ask her if she had a screen shot of the big picture. “It was a classic,” Isabel wrote back, but sadly she no longer had the screen shot.

I guess I need to be really proud of my parents for the skills they have. My mother posts real pictures she means to post, granted, sometimes they are sideways, but at least she knew she was posting them.

I started following JudyandRufus because I am certain I am going to need a good laugh in the future and the second I see that desk top I am going to get it.

Everyone Lost

At 4:07 our phones started blowing up. The vote was done. The long and bitter battle over Kavanaugh was done. The conservatives may think they have won this one, but the damage to the country is much deeper than one man on the Supreme Court. The mocking, the partisanship, the gamesmanship just to win, the drawing of a strong line down the middle of the county, pitting good people against each other, making enemies of fellow countrymen. No one won this one.

Just a moment later Russ’ phone rang and it was Carter sobbing. I feel incredibly guilty for how my generation has gotten us to where we are now. It didn’t happen over night. I am not sure how we come together as a union and people who all love America.

I do know that how things have been going so far is making us worse and not better. We do not try and lift each other up. We do not work for the collective good. We are letting singular issues rule, like a right for woman to make choices about their own bodies or gun rights, driving all other important issues to the side.

We need people who can look at the big picture and work to make America better for all, not just their “side.” I don’t know that Kavanaugh will ever be respected on the court by many in this country. We don’t need to repeat what his nomination did to us as a country again.

Many will feel euphoric over Kavanaugh’s seat, but what they can’t see yet is the damage this battle did. In my opinion everyone lost.

A Star is Born

My Dad and Bill finished my yard today. It was a Herculean effort by my 80 year old dad. I am forever in his debt. I will post photos of it when the grass comes in, but suffice it to say I am thrilled with it. I skipped bridge so that I could be here to take Dad and Bill to lunch and thank them properly. Thankfully they finished without having to be out in this crazy October heat all day for a third day.

Because my yard was done I was able to go to the movies late this afternoon. A group of six of mostly empty nest mothers gathered at the Windsong to see the remake of A Star Is Born. We all are old enough to remember the Kris Kristofferson/Barbra Streisand version and were greatly anticipating this one. The word was that Bradley Cooper had rewritten the story and done all new music with Lady Gaga and that it is his directorial debut.

Us six friends sat through at least eight previews all, except for one, for movies we agreed we wanted to see. That usually doesn’t happen for me. I am lucky if I like a third of the previews. Perhaps we are getting better than usual movies this year.

Back to A Star Is Born… Bradley Cooper was to die for. He was perfect for the role and directed himself beautifully. I think he was an improvement on Kris Kristofferson. Lady Gaga was good, but honestly not as good as Barbra. It takes guts to go up against Barbra.

The music was OK to me. It told the story, but I did not go away humming any one of the songs. I don’t feel like the one Lady Gaga wrote for the movie were as good as her early stuff.

The supporting cast was great. The big surprise to most of my group was when they ran the credits Andrew Dice Clay’s name came up and only then did we realize that was who was playing Gaga’s father.

All in all it was a great escape. Our group decided that Friday afternoon movies is something we need to continue and welcome others to join us. One bonus for our friend Anne was that she discovered that her husband had made dinner when she got home.

Now I want to watch the Judy Garland version and the Barbra one and compare them all!

Bright Outshines

Between things going on in Washington and the slap in the face from Durham Roofing/Budd Piper roofing charging me for four visits to fix one hole I needed some good news to change my mood. Luckily three things happened today that did that.

First, my Dad and Bill came back and spent all day planting the 21 shrubs. It sounds easier than it was. I have lots of roots and vines in the area of my yard we are redoing. It takes a huge amount of work to rid my yard of them. It took so long they were unable to plant the grass so they will come back again tomorrow to finish the job my Dad volunteered to do. He has no idea how much I appreciate this.

Second, I got to celebrate my friend KT’s birthday with a Thai Cafe lunch today. You know you are gabbing so much that you don’t notice when you are the only people left in the restaurant and they are turning the lights off. I always say this when I have lunch with KT, “We hardly covered half of what we need to discuss.”

Third, I opened a big envelope from the National Mah Jongg League. I was thinking it was awfully early to start getting my Mah Jongg friends to order their new cards for next year since they don’t come until the end of March. Then I found the check for The Food Bank of CENC that I “earned” by doing a big group order. This is one thing I appreciate about the NMJL.

It is a small donation, but every dollar makes a difference, especially this year with so many people affected by hurricane Florence.

If you play Mah Jongg and want to order next year’s card through me you can be assured that $2.00 from your order will go the the Food Bank. If you just order it yourself the NMJL keeps the money for themselves.

Thank goodness for the bright spots in the day.

Presidential Alert

This morning at my Mah Jongg group we got to talking about the President’s embarrassing mocking of Dr. Ford at his rally yesterday. We are a cordial group of Independents, Republicans and Democrats, but I don’t think any of us are a Fox News watchers so we are usually working off fairly balanced news. Despite our parties we seem to agree when 45 is acting badly.

The subject changed to the FEMA emergency warning test that was going to happen at 2:18 with a message from the president. I joked that even though it was a FEMA test, Trump might want only his base to get the message. To hell for anyone who does not like him.

2:18 came and went at my house. No message on my cell phone, IPad, Apple Watch or regular phone. About five minutes later I got a group text from a Mah Jongg friend who is not a Republican saying that she was waiting for carpool pickup at 2:18 and a number of people around her got the warning, but she did not.

We joked that maybe my prediction was true. Then a republican friend in the group piped in that she had gotten the text. The first friend who did not get the text, then replied that her husband got it. Guess what, he is a republican.

Another Mah Jongg friend, whose left Our game to go to a bridge game, said she got the alert on her phone and her watch but so did only about 2/3rds of the other people in the room.

There is my very unscientific results of the FEMA warning system. It sounds like it might be something like the rapture. If you are a Republican you will be saved, the rest of us are damned. I am certain this is something a good number of Trump supporters already believe.

My Dad Made Russ’ Birthday Better

Since today is Russ’ birthday I kept my calendar completely open so I could be available for anything he had time to do. Then one of his new clients needed their orientation to the Russ’ Agile Marketing program so his day was consumed by important work. I thought I was going to have a free day.

Then my father called. He and his best farm worker Bill were going to come down and work on prepping my scorched earth area of my yard for planting. Last week my Dad had one of his smaller tractors and many large implements trailered to my house so they could have them here when they had time.

My Dad volunteering to do this huge job was a godsend. The part of my yard that has to be replanted had, for the last 22 years, been full of vines and volunteer shrubs so prepping the soil meant tearing up vines and roots that had made practically permanent homes in my yard. It was not something Russ and I could do and paying someone else to do it would cost half a year’s tuition.

Bill and my Dad showed up with another big trailer with the four wheeler, fertilizer, grass seed and many more tools. They wasted no time cutting low branches on trees that were in the way of driving the tractor around. Then Bill started “raking” the earth with a big rake on the back of the tractor. My father supervised the whole effort from a bench in my yard. Bill ripped out vines and roots, for up old stumps, destroyed a sand box Russ had built with pressure treated lumber when Carter was two and moved all the mess to a compost pile in my back woods. Then he roto-tilled the whole thing. A tractor roto-tilling takes minutes compared to the hours it takes Russ with our little machine.

Lynn came by to see my Dad and thought that she wanted to drive the four wheeler around. We decided she was still a little too weak to do that and not possibly crash into something. it was just nice for Lynn to come see my Dad to break up the monotony of supervising.

After a good six hours work the soil looks great. Tomorrow twenty-one bushes Russ and I bought on Saturday will be delivered. Thursday Bill and my Dad are coming back to plant them. Thank goodness they have a giant auger to dig the holes.

They were just finishing up for the day when Russ came home. Happy Birthday! My Dad has just given him the best present ever. I am so thankful for his help, generosity and hard work. I am especially thankful for Bill.

I used to wonder why my Dad had so many tractors. Now I am just glad he brought one to my house for a little while. Thanks Dad. And happy birthday Russ!

Honor Tattoos

I get some of the craziest emails. I am sure you do too. Things for men’s Sherpa lined hoodies, or senior portraits. At first I was t sure if they were talking about getting a portrait of myself since I am on the back side on the way to being a senior citizen, but upon closer examination I saw if was for a “high school senior” portrait. I guess that if you ever had a senior they didn’t want to miss that might have another. I don’t. And as for that Sherpa thing, my husband is too hot blooded for anything fur lined.

One of my favorite emails today was from Pinterest. I am a big Pinterest time waster. I can look at quilting posts all day long. If today’s email was about quilts I might understand it, but it wasn’t. It was “14 Tattoo ideas for parents wanting to honor their kids.”

Two things Pinterest got wrong with me; Tattoos and my “Honoring” my kid. I am certain I never searched on anything about tattoos on Pinterest or anywhere. I don’t want a tattoo and never would think about getting a tattoo.

Now for the “Honoring” my child. I love my child, I adore my child and I even like my child. I don’t need to tattoo anything on my body to honor her. I gave birth to her, raised her, and pay for her school, that is how I honor her. And when did we start honoring children? I thought it was honor your mother and father?

My child is alive. I don’t need to scar my body to honor her. I have a friend who sadly lost her child much to early. I think she has a little butterfly to remember her child. That is different.

When tattoos used to be things that sailors got they often got home that said “ Mom” to honor their mother. I know people who do things to honor their grandparents who are gone, but honoring your children, well, I feel like everything we do to raise our children honors them.

Carter knows I love her, but I don’t think she expects me to get a tattoo that says her name. It just isn’t going to happen.

Lord knows what weird things are going to be in my e-mail tomorrow.

Weekend For The Dog

Remember when weekends used to be about driving your kid to sports and/or watching them do sports. Your whole weekend revolves around who was taking her and who was picking her up and how long she might be cleaning a horse, or tack, or both.

When your kid is gone you don’t change your weekends to be just what you want to do, that would be totally out of character. Instead you just shift your focus from your kid to your dog.

Now our dog is not a sporty girl. She will take a three mile walk, if that is what she feels like, but mostly she is a “I want to go places and been seen” kind of girl. So going in the car is her favorite weekend activity.

Yesterday, Russ and I had to go to Greensboro to buy 21 large shrubs to put in our scorched earth part of our yard. My Dad is helping me with this project and he dropped off a tractor and a number of large implements this week’s so I knew I had to get to sourcing these plants.

Shay was insistent on going on the trip. She rode in Russ’ lap while he drove all the way there. She wasn’t much interested in the various types of hollies or Laurels, but she did like getting there. She was just thankful they are going to be delivered and we didn’t dare think to put something in the car that might disturb her.

Today, when Russ mentioned to Shay that we were going to drive the Morris Minor downtown she ran to the garage door so she could get a good seat.

Once again she had to sit on Russ’ lap, on the left hand side of the car, but since it is a right hand drive she did disturb the driver. Shay loves the Morris because, with no air conditioning, she gets to hand her head out the window.

Russ needed to go to Bulldega so Shay and I stayed in the car waiting for him. The only thing she does not like about the Morris is people walking by always comment about what a cute car it is and never say what a cute dog she is. Her hurt feelings were quickly forgotten when Russ got back in the car. Getting to hang her head out the window two days in a row makes for a very good weekend for her. I am just thankful she doesn’t play a weekend sport.

College Cuisine

Last semester Carter had to eat in the college dining hall which was a real bummer for her. She had to cook when she was in Berlin and liked the need to explore the city that food shopping gave her. For her living space this year her number one desire was a full kitchen so she would not have to be on the meal plan. Thanks to her roommate having a good lottery number Carter got her wish.

Carter swore to me she was going cook most of her meals so I gladly outfitted her kitchen with good equipment. Yesterday she called me before she was going to food shopping at the Boston public market to discus what cut of meat she needed to make a roast. She and Olivia we craving beef.

A roast? This was not regular college cuisine. Carter had never made a roast before and I can’t remember her helping me make one at home. I talked her through the steps and encouraged her to make friends with her butcher and quiz them.

Not only did she get a nice piece of beef, but also some beautiful scallops. It is Boston after all and the seafood is plentiful. After the proteins were sourced she visited the green grocer for the veg. The fact that she was doing vegetables made my heart happy.

I just got a text from Carter showing me her finished roast. Wow! It looked perfect. She told me it was enough for her whole week. The idea that she has embraced leftovers is a big move since she would rarely eat leftovers at home.

Tonight was a surf and turf dinner. She cooked up a few scallops and added them to the beef and vegetable and sent me picture of her yummy dinner. This is way better than ramen or pizza. She told me that it tasted delicious. This is a college skill that will serve her all her life. Good Job Carter.

Melania Wrote Russ

Since I am the one who gets the mail at our house, I was the one who first saw the envelope with the return address of just her name, Melania Trump, endorsed largely across the top left hand corner of the envelope.

Since it is a federal offense to open someone else’s mail, I did not. I just got to imagining what she could have been writing to my husband…

Please Russ, save me from my life trapped here with this orange thing…

No, that was probably not it. Too familiar a greeting.

Dear Russ, you have been recommend to me as an expert in strategy. I need a plan…

No, she would not spell it out in a letter. Even she would know to send word to Russ through a third party.

Dear Russell, As your birthday is coming up in three days I would like to wish you a happy birthday and personally apologize for everything that happens in my house.

No, she would have way too many letters to write if she were personally apologizing to each American on their birthday.

Finally Russ got home. I told him about the envelope.

“Just burn it,” Russ said.

“No, let’s open it.” I responded.

Dear Russell, decisions made by the President impact countless lives across our nation, and throughout the world…

Immediately I knew what it was… a letter originally written by Michelle Obama that Melania found in her desk in the residence and so she copied it and sent it to the list Michelle had attached to it. That is the only explanation why she would dare think to write Russ and ask him for money for her husband’s re-election.

Historic Mess

As luck would have it the only thing on my calendar today that I could not change was a hair cut. This meant I was free to spend almost the whole day glued to one of the many TVs in my house all tuned to the the only thing on TV, the Kavanaugh nomination hearings.

As Russ was getting ready to leave for work he asked me what I was going to do while I watched. “I am going to deep clean the kitchen and scrub all the wood cabinets,” I responded.

“You really should paint something,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because that is what we did when we watched the Thomas/Hill hearings.”

I watched Dr. Ford with great intent as I squeezed out my rag of hot water and Murphy’s Oil soap. I felt she was more than credible. Her desire to get the FBI to do a more complete investigation even if it turned up exculpatory evidence, a word she did not know before today, was key. I was happy that people were mostly civil to her while she was there.

I scrubbed my stove with a tooth brush as I watch Judge Kavanaugh weep during his opening remarks. When he talked about his habit of keeping his calendar based on his father’s habit that started in 1978 for keeping a calendar, that acted as a diary, I kept waiting for him to give us the reason his father started doing that on such a specific year. Had his father been audited by the IRS before that and wish he had a calendar as proof of something? Why was Judge Kavanaugh so emotional about that calendar habit?

The best thing Kavanaugh said was that his ten year old daughter thought they should pray for Dr. Ford. That deserved weeping.

I felt sorry for the Judge for the loss of his reputation, but I feel that his continued fight against any Senator who suggested that if Kavanaugh asked for the FBI to do a through investigation he could lift the cloud of doubt that hung over him. But he didn’t. He stuck to his guns that the hearing was the investigation and that if he said he didn’t do it, that should suffice.

It didn’t for me. She was calm and willing to try and get to the truth. He was mad, and at one point rather than answering Senator Klobuhar’s question about drinking he just turned the question around on her and asked about her drinking. She was not the one being questioned and it showed a level of disrespect for a female Senator. Someone handed him a piece of paper right then and it probably told him he was being an ass. After a break he came back and apologized to Klobuhar. It was too late. His true stripes had been shown.

Lord knows what is going to happen tomorrow. I did my part to rid my life of the dirt around me, but I wish I could have been cleaning up politics instead.

Can I Drive A Truck?

I was at a meeting today at the Food Bank. One of the things we were talking about is how the Food Bank is dealing with the disaster relief from the hurricane. 22 of the 34 counties we serve have been declared federal disaster sites. This helps them get some relief, but also means that our Food Bank is going to have more need for many more months. I don’t remember the actual numbers, but after hurricane Floyd it was years, not months that the Food Bank was helping people affected.

Thankfully we have been able to secure warehouses in both Wilmington and New Bern to house and distribute extra food needed for the counties around them. The big issue is paying for it and trying to get the food there.

With the record employment numbers truck drivers are extra hard to come by right now. They are so busy delivering Amazon and Hello Fresh. Peter, the President of the Food Bank, told me he desperately needs more Class A and Class B truck drivers, but can’t find them. He told me of one man from Lexington, Kentucky drove to Raliegh to volunteer as a driver since he was a retired UPS driver. That kind of selflessness is so appreciated, if only he could stay more than a week.

I looked at Peter and said, “I have time, how hard is it to get a Class A license?” He responded by saying, “If you know of anyone who has one and can volunteer or wants a job.” He didn’t take me seriously about my learning to drive a truck.

So I came home and did my research. No wonder he snickered. It cost between $3,000-$7,000 and takes about four weeks to learn to drive a truck. Not worth it for me to do it. So now I am just going to spread the word that the Food Bank is looking for drivers. If you have a cousin who is retired, or you drove a truck in the Army. Whatever. We need help moving food to the ravaged areas.

Our current drivers have been working non-stop. Usually a driver on a Saturday might make four deliveries. This past Saturday they made 25, then turned around and worked on Sunday.

There have been lots of kind people coming out to volunteer to pack food at the Food Bank. Volunteers are vital to keep things moving. If you are interested in helping, the Food Bank is going to need amped up volunteers for at least a whole year. So don’t feel bad if you haven’t done anything for hurricane relief yet. There is time, and need, so much need.

Netflix Helpdesk

My Dad called today. He had signed up for Netflix but had an unsatisfactory talk with a customer service Rep about how to find the shows he was interested in. So he called me to be his personal Netflix consierge.

At first I was worried I was going to have to try and figure out how he could watch it on his TV. Thankfully he was trying to watch on his computer since he does not have a smart TV. So over the regular phone we began the conversation about how to find shows.

He was looking for British Comedies and really wanted to see To the Manor Born. Sadly it is not one offered on regular Netflix, but he could purchase it for some ridiculous price. I encouraged him to keep looking and just watch what came on his regular subscription.

“How do I know what they have?” He asked me.

Since I was looking at Netflix on my TV and he was looking at his on his computer I decided that we needed to FaceTime so I could help him with what he could see. So now I went from just trying to teach him about Netflix to teaching him about FaceTime video and Netflix.

After a few false tries we finally connected via video. The trouble came in my getting him to hold the phone up to his computer screen in such a way that I could see it.

“Move the phone to the right… no to the left, now back it up a little so I can see a wider amount all at once.”

I had to show him what the search magnifying glass was and had him type in the names of a few shows I knew were on Netflix. Eventually he was able to create a list of four shows as start of “My List.” It will give him something to begin watching and hopefully the algorithm will give him suggestions he likes.

He did quite well, but I found the whole thing funny since I had just come home from church where our communications director was teaching me how to set up a Google Group for a committee I am chairing. It was not as intuitive as I wished it could be and it took a little while for the two of us to get it going. After an hour I told her I was tiring of this subject and no longer could pay attention.

I am so thankful my father did not need help with a Google Group. I was able to be his Netflix help desk, but that is about as far as I am able to do, at least over FaceTime. Please lord, let Netflix put To the Manor Born in their line up, I think there are so many episodes of it they could keep him busy for a year.

Woo Hoo Carter

When Carter started her college search high on the list was a school where Greek life was unimportant. Although I had always sung my Pi Phi praises and Carter knew many of my sisters as still my closest friends, she wasn’t interested. So she chose Northeastern for it’s abroad and Co-op programs and the fact that it was in Boston.

After her first semester in Berlin she arrived in Boston in January to a very cold semester. She joined some organizations and had her fabulous roommate Olivia, but something was missing. She decided she wanted to rush this fall just to see what the sororities were like and meet new people.

Rush at Northeastern is not like Rush at a big southern University, but still, to a mother the cutting of girls after each party can be heart breaking. Since I was Membership chairman two years at my sorority I know what a numbers game the whole thing is, and we didn’t have computerized matching back then.

Last weekend Carter went to all nine houses the first day, she got invited back to the maximum number of six the second day. The thought of my introverted daughter going to nine parties and talking to that many people in a short period of time made me sweat. She reported liking them all and thinking she really wanted to join one. She had one house as her top choice last weekend.

This weekend she was invited back to four, the most she could go to on Saturday and her mind changed completely. She called me and was very emotional that she really liked a different one and was now confused. All good, I told her. You probably will like more than one and be happy at any of them.

Sunday was Pref day and she was invited back to two, the maximum, but it was her first and fourth choice. She had been cut by the one that was her early favorite. She more than ever wanted her first choice and was not sure she even wanted to join her fourth at all. I didn’t want to remind her that she didn’t want to join a sorority at all when she was looking at colleges.

I waited patiently all day for the time she would go and see if she were invited to join any sorority, but more importantly, the one she really, really wanted. At 5:30 I got a text, it was a card from her top choice, Tri Sigma.

Deep breath from this Mama. I am certain she is going to enjoy it and develop some life long friendships, just like I did with my Pi Beta Phi sisters at Dickinson.

Congratulations Carter. I guess I need to find some Purple and Pearl clothing for you for your birthday. Now don’t forget to keep studying too.

The Food Bank is The Emergency Feeding Plan

Most of you know my nineteen year affiliation with the Food Bank of Central and Eastern North Carolina. I really got to learn the workings of our Food Bank early on when hurricane’s Fran and Floyd did major damage in our state. Because back then so many people were displaced for so long the team at the Food Bank became experts on helping provide food to people who never before needed help for a very long time.

When Katrina hit the gulf coast it was the team from the Food Bank of CENC who were called into the Gulf to train their Food Banks how to manage feeding in these conditions.

The Food Bank is a non-profit agency, not a government one, but it is the Food Bank that the government depends on to manage and feed people in need. Government feeding programs like TEFAP, which stands for The Emergency Food Assistance Program are government funded programs but the food is distributed through the Food Bank. The government has no other way to directly supply food or feed people in need.

During this disaster called Florence many agencies, like the Red Cross, Salvation Army and Baptist Men come in and set up feeding sites where people are being housed while they are flooded out. The Food Bank of CENC works with over 860 different local agencies to get food out to the people who need it.

What we know is that after the flood waters recede and the shelters close people have to go back to their ruined homes and try and rebuild. It takes years. Most don’t have flood insurance. Most need help with basics, the most basic of which is to have food daily.

This disaster is one that will impact the work of the Food Bank for years.

There is no more dedicated staff than those men and women at the Food Bank. Thankfully we now have a new headquarters in Raliegh where we can handle double the numbers of volunteers, who keep coming to help pack food to be sent to our branches in Wilmington and New Bern. But those branches are small and already were working to capacity before the disaster with just regular help to those who are food insecure.

If you have been blessed by not having any damage during the storm and want to find a way to help people in hurricane damaged areas, please consider a gift to the Food Bank or CENC. It is a professionally run organization with the infrastructure and experience to best put your money to work. Every dollar donated to the food Bank of CENC is turned into 5 meals. It is so much better for you to donate money and let the Food Bank leverage that into more and the kind of food needed in these devastated areas.

Don’t think for a minute that the government has an emergency feeding agency. They rely on the Food Bank to be their agency. As Florence begins to disappear from the news, the Food Bank will quietly be there for the long haul. They need all our help.

Visit www.foodbankofcenc.org to make a donation, or call me if you would like to talk about how you can make a significant gift.

I Can Fix It Myself

How many times did I hear that when Carter was a toddler. It was the joy of being independent! I can’t imagine where she got it from.

We were lucky here in Durham that hurricane Florence did not get us too badly. I do know people who still had their basement flood, or lost big trees, but compared to down east where the flooding is still engulfing whole communities, we are nothing.

At our house part of the driveway apron washed away and then there is the roof leak that is causing me to redo five ceilings. There are some jobs I don’t try and do myself, like anything electrical or major plumbing work, although I am great at unclogging things.

While Russ has been inundated with work I decided that I could go ahead and fix some of the hurricane related issues at our house. Why should I use a professional when they are so needed by others?

Today I went to Home Depot and got high impact cement and large pond stones and I cemented the side of the driveway apron that got washed away and covered it the stones to make it look pretty.

Then on the inside of the house I had a section of the ceiling cut out by my painters after it had gotten too water logged and started to mold from the roof leak. The painters left a giant fan to help dry out the floor joists in the attic before we move forward. After they were dry I wanted to stop the air conditioning from all going up in the attic. Since quilting is my newest skill I quilted a new floor for the attic. Just like toddler Carter, “I can fix it myself.”

Movie Pass Sucks

When Movie Pass first came out it seemed too good to be true. Pay $9.95 a month and you can go to see a movie everyday for free. That was too good. They were banking on people not going everyday. Like me. I only went once or twice a month.

Then they changed their plan, and the new plan was still fine with me, three movies a month. That was still was a savings. So I kept the service. Until today.

I was going to the movies with my friends Lynn and ELizabeth. It was the first time Lynn has been out of the house that was not the hospital so we were excited. I got to the theatre that is one Movie Pass services. I tried to check in for our movie, A Simple Favor, and the Movie Pass app said it was not showing at that theatre. Sorry app, you are wrong. I tried to do the chat on the app to get Movie Pass to approve my movie, but the Chat kept crashing.

As I was holding up the line and could not get anything to work I bought a ticket. I sent an email picture of my ticket and explanation to the Movie Pass email and they said, “No Dice.”

Well Movie Pass, “No Dice to you.” I canceled my subscription. When your site does not work in the two ways they have for me to use the service I have paid for you are cheating and stealing.

So Mitch Lowe, CEO of Movie Pass, good luck getting another job, you have failed miserably at Movie Pass.

Oh, the movie was great.

No Joking

When are old men going to learn to stop joking about sexual assault? Today we hit a new all time low when South Carolina Republican Representative Ralph Norman, who is running for re-election, opened a debate with his Democratic rival with very bad joke.

“Did, ya’ll hear this late test late-breaking news from the Kavanaugh hearings? Ruth Bader Ginsburg came out that she was groped by Abraham Lincoln.”

Wow! Ageism and sexism in two little sentences. Not only is it never a good idea to joke about sexual assault, but to use a national treasure such as Justice Ginsburg is a new low and to open a debate with that… tone deaf is not even close enough to describe this guy.

I am wondering if RBG has a case against this guy? Certainly Abraham Lincoln might. It is time for him to rise from the dead and shake some sense into this guy and anyone who laughed at the joke, even nervously.

If we don’t stand up to people when they say stupid things how will they learn? Of course this “old boy network” who not just joke about sexual assault, but turn a blinds eye to it, need to get their butts kicked out of their roles in power.

It has happened in Hollywood and media circles and now it needs to happen in government. Just because we have a President who was recorded saying he can grab women and still was elected is no reason to ever let that happen again.

If you are a woman, have a mother, sister, daughter, grandmother, wife or girl friend and want them to know we are a nation that cares about their protection don’t vote for anyone, of any party, who does not take this issue seriously.

I Am Mean

My father, who has known me my entire life, says that I am, “one of the toughest people he knows.” Sometimes he says I am one of the “meanest people he knows.” He is not wrong. When I worked with him I was a lot meaner. I was tough on everyone.

As I have had aged, had less professional responsibility and fewer hormones I have softened, just a little. People who get to know me superficially have no idea how mean I can be. They probably never will because I have no reason to be tough on them. My normal default is funny, which might mask meanness. So to some people I appear to just be fun loving. I think I need some sort of sign warning people, “I may appear to be all laughs, but don’t test me.”

Today, someone who does not really know me said something inappropriate to me in public and my natural tough demeanor shot right back at her. I used a bad word, which was unfortunate and I am sorry for that, because I think it took away from my making the point that what she said was inappropriate and out of place.

Earlier in life I hardly put up with anything without corrective action, but as I have aged my fuse has gotten longer. If the explosion is bigger now it might be because it usually includes past sins and not just the current issue.

I wish I was not so mean and so blunt. On the other hand, sometimes people need to be told when they are out of place. At least those who witnessed my reaction know I am mean.

Asian Cucumbers

Making an asian slaw with chicken for Mah Jongg Lunch tomorrow. To spice it up I am adding these cucumbers to the mix. They will marinate overnight so might be a little pickled by lunch.

1 English cucumber sliced as thinly as you can

1/3 c. Rice wine vinegar

2 T. Soy sauce

1 T. Lime juice

1 garlic clove, minced

1/2 inch of ginger, grated

2 T. Sugar

1/2 t. Sesame oil

Ground black pepper

Red pepper flakes

Mix everything together except the cucumber and them pour it over the cucumber in as small a container as will hold it all. Mix well, cove and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes to over night.

Friends With Drones

Last year we got a new roof on the old section of our house. The roofers who had put the roof on the addition twenty two years ago came back and said their original work was still good and we only needed the front. So we let them replace the old roof with a new one. The old roof had not had a leak, but I didn’t want to wait for that reason to replace it.

Fast forward and a couple of months ago I noticed a wrinkle in the kitchen ceiling. Then some paint in the guest bathroom ceiling peeling. Then one day in the upstairs hall I heard dripping. I called the roofers. They came out and found a torn shingle and said that was it.

No…a week later it rained outside and so it rained inside. They came back. Three nail pops, That was it. No… more rain, another lose shingle. Russ and I kept saying it was something in the valley based on the attic evidence. Not where they looked.

So now we have the hurricane rain. Of course all weekend when the roofers are closed the water poured in five different rooms. Came back out this morning. When I showed the guys the wet rafters their response was, “Shit.” I’d say so. They couldn’t figure out it out because it was raining too much to climb on the roof.

They came back during the break in the rain and finally found a hole right where we said it was. New membrane. Please god, let this be the answer.

I wanted to get a good look at the roof, but did not want to go on the roof. I put a call out on Facebook for someone local with a drone. I had four volunteers right away. My friend Laurie called and said her husband Bryan could come right over. Nothing better than a man with a toy.

Bryan expertly flew the camera wielding device up above my house and took video and photos while I scoured every shingle from his iPhone screen. I have to say the roof looked good. Hopefully the latest fix is the last fix. I changed all the towels in the five rooms where water had come in the house so I can tell if any new drips appear.

Thanks to Laurie and Bryan and all the other volunteers. Using a drone to look at your house from a bird’s eye view is so helpful. No one should ever go up a ladder to their roof unless they are professional.

I hope all your homes survived this crazy rain. There has been so much flooding and the one thing I know, water always wins.

Signature Color

I am sick of rain, but I am not complaining since it is nothing compared to those who are dealing with flooding. So as not to write about the storm for yet another day I would rather laugh about something so ridiculous that I heard the other day while playing Mah Jongg.

A friend who wishes to remain unnamed for obvious reasons told us about someone she knows who has a “signature color.” On first blush, there is nothing too absurd about that. Don’t most of us have a color we like more than all the others? But that is not what this person means when she says she has a signature color. No, this woman not only loves her signature color, and uses in it all the things she does, both personally and works wise, but she claims this color as her own, like no one else can use the color.

When my unnamed friend told us this I practically fell off my chair. It sounded like something a third grader would do, claiming that only she could wear red and no one else.

This woman’s signature color is aqua, the universal color that looks good on everyone. I am thankful I don’t live near her because I would hate to be wearing that color at a party and have her come up and tell me, “You are wearing MY signature color.”

I am certain my comeback would be something like, “B#$@*, no one owns a color.”

If people are going to start claiming things like colors we are going to have more than a few fights. Colors, sunshine, chocolate chip cookies, these all belong to us all. There is no claiming them as yours and yours alone. Signature color, get a life.

For All The Craziness

Last week the lines at the grocery store were nuts. No one in Durham could buy a battery or a gallon of water. People who could afford it were stocking up in survivalist-like ways.

I was less crazy. I did fill my freezer with bags of ice and a couple of bags of water to create ice blocks in case we lost power. But I did not stock up on food. I figured I would have to eat what was in my freezer if we lost power, so why buy canned food I may never eat. I also filled my car up with gas, but I never waited in one gas line.

Was I foolish not to do more? Turns out, so far, that Durham was spared. Granted the rain and potential flooding could still be two or three days away, but I feel like my house on the top of the hill is relatively safe.

With all the hype for so many days in advance, by today I am just over the whole Florence thing. I am actually getting really bored. So much so I cleaned the grout in my bathroom today as if it is going to be photographed for a magazine, which it is not.

Russ went to Home Depot to get something and said that if we wanted to stock up on batteries, generators, rakes, paper towels, lanterns or water they are all restocked. I passed on it all. Actually I am hoping that the people who evacuated from down east will go to Home Depot and stock up before they go home, because from the looks of things on TV it may be a huge mess back at the beach.

The real worry now is the flooding along rivers. On the news they were showing the river levels and the expected flood levels. There was one for a river in Fayetteville that had a prediction of 65 feet of water over the regular river level. Now that is a disaster, and waiting for it to happen has got to be the worst. How does someone who does not live particularly near the river know where 65 feet worth of water will go?

Then there are the trees that will fall over because the ground is too wet to hold them up. So I know that we may have dodged a bullet here in Durham, but a large swath of North Carolina has not.

My Food Bank, the Food Bank of CENC has three branches in already hard hit areas, Wilmington, New Bern and Greenville and the Sandhills Branch may also end up being bad, as well as the Raleigh Headquarters. I can tell you from past disasters the Food Bank ends up helping people affected by hurricanes for months and months after the event is over. If you want to help people in need the Food Bank is a reliable agency with infrastructure and local experts already on the ground. $1 donated is turned into five meals through the Food Bank. To donate go online to www.foodbankcenc.org.

I may be bored with Florence, but I fear that we have not yet begun to know what our state is dealing with, and by the time we do, the news will be sick of this story and will have moved on.

Storm?

I don’t want to write much about the weather and jinx ourselves, so I will let these two screen shots of the hurricane map do the talking for me. I’ll just say, Durham is a great place to be, today. Of course the weather is supposed to last for a few days so if we get five days of continuous rain things can change. Just know that right now, Russ, Shay and I are all good.

Maybe the fact that Russ is home is the key. Since he has never been here for a bad weather event, be it summer or winter, perhaps just his presence makes it not so bad. He was in Boston for the last two days. Yesterday when all the other airlines were canceling their flights into RDU Delta was holding strong. Russ took the 7:30 PM flight and got in at 9:45. He said the pilots did an excellent job of feathering the plane between wind gusts. I was just happy the smart car made it home from the airport.

In true fashion Russ went to the office today. He certainly had an easy commute since no one else was out. So it has been a non-event day and I hope it will be a non-event weekend.

My friend Lynn has been in the hospital for the last couple of days and while you are praying for Florence to go away and everyone to be safe from the storm, throw a little prayer in for Lynn to feel better and come home.

I hope to all my North and South Carolina peeps that you are comfortable, dry and have power!

Florence Hurry Up and Get Over With

Growing up summering at Pawleys Island we heard lots and lots of stories about Hurricane Hazel and the folk lore of the Grey Man, who somehow warned people on the island to leave due to the storm. See, back then there was no weather technology to track storms or even know they were coming. Hell, there weren’t even phones on Pawleys. Hazel did major damage to Pawleys and is still talked about today as an Island changing event.

Then there was hurricane Hugo in 1989 which did major damage to Pawleys. For years as you drove down Route 17 you could see trees that were snapped in half at about the 12 foot height and an occasional boat stuck high in the tree a mile inland. Technology had progressed since Hazel, so people knew to evacuate back then, but so many houses we lost, including my cousins Johnny and Flo.

And now here we are with hurricane Florence, nicknamed Flo. Technology had advanced to such a degree that we have so much information days and days ahead of the actual event. When I was in Massachusetts Monday they were calling this the storm of the century for North Carolina. I have heard that before with practically every storm. Now I am not down playing the seriousness, but I am hoping for the best.

The thing that gets me is how the news hypes everyone up . “Get your storm preparedness kits ready! This includes water for three days, batteries of every type, flash lights, power chargers, food, cash, full gas tanks.” The list goes on and on.

When I went to the grocery store on Tuesday, three days before the storm really is getting slightly close to us, people were buying crazy amounts of water. What in the world. Do none of these people have containers at home they can fill up with water from the tap? For as many storms as I have endured we have never lost our city water. Why don’t they say on the news that you need water if you are on a well?

After a week of preparations I am ready for this storm to come and go. I was wishing it would not come at all, but it looks like something is coming. The coast of North Carolina is already starting to flood. Please pray the damage is not too terrible and no lives are lost.

As for me, I have Shay, Russ is coming home tonight since Delta Airlines is still flying into RDU, we have food, water, batteries and flash lights. What I, going to do with them all I don’t know. If we lose power I don’t need much light. I will just go to sleep.

So stay safe all my North and South Carolina friends. If you aren’t ready now you were under a rock some where.

My Aunt Susan

My mother is the oldest sister of three girls. Her next sister down was Susan and they were only about a year and a half apart in age. Their youngest sister is Eddie and she is much younger that my mother and Susan. Together Susan and my mother were each other’s childhood memory keeper. Being so close in age they experienced their young life in unison.

Recently Susan had not been well and it was very distressing for my mother. Today when my mom called Hank, Susan’s husband, he shockingly told my mother that Susan passed away late last night. Although she had been sick, my mother had thought she would have time to see her one more time. But Susan had fallen and broke her hip on Sunday. If you aren’t well a broken hip is almost always the beginning of the end.

I am heart broken for my mother. She still has her youngest sister Eddie, but not the one who knew what life was like in my mother’s childhood years.

Susan was a sweet Aunt. She was always kind and as far as I can remember never raised her voice. She is the sister I look most like.

When I was a kid Susan and Hank lived in Greenwich village in a garden apartment owned by their Episcopal Church. It was so fun to go and visit them and go to Azuma, a kind of hippie gift shop in the village, that was near by.

I am sending out love to my Uncle Hank and their two sons, James and Steven. And extra love to my Aunt Eddie and especially my Mom and my sisters. Both my parents have lost their younger siblings who they were so close to. I count myself lucky to have both my parents, but know it is sad for them to lose their contemporaries.

One thing that brings me comfort is knowing that my Aunt Susan, who was a faithful believer, is in heaven with her mother, my sweet Grandmother, Mima. I know they will keep watch on my mother.

Mom’s Back To School

When I was in Massachusetts earlier in the week my friends told me to stay because of the impending hurricane. I didn’t even consider not coming home, not because I want to endure another storm, but because it is the start of the fall season for things I am involved with. So tonight I had the first Garden Club meeting of the year and I also had the first Mentor/mentee game for the bridge year.

Yes, I need to get things ready around the house for the coming monster storm. I had to do some grocery shopping since Russ had eaten down the leftovers. I also needed gas for my car, but those things took a back seat to the new “school year” of meetings. For me missing the start the new year puts me off on a bad foot, so much so I will head into the storm.

So now that I am home I am praying the storm is not the storm of a century the news is touting it to be. Mostly because Shay and I are riding it out alone. As is the trend, Russ will be on a business trip to Boston and will miss the storm. He has systematically missed every snow, ice and hurricane we have ever had at our house in North Carolina. Once, when Fran hit, I was with him in Italy so we missed it together, but other than that I have been here to face the music.

I am happy that Russ is working, so going off to Boston is a good thing. I think I can handle this alone. It is Shay that will be distraught that he is gone since she doesn’t like big weather anyway.

I am not letting the hurricane get in the way of the new year. Tomorrow we have Mah Jongg, then I have a church meeting. Hurricane Shmurricane.

Life Above the Clouds

After 12 days away from home I am ready to get home. I had a perfectly lovely last day today with Stori. We went over to Gloutser, MA to look for a place for breakfast and ended up at Lobsta Land, the same place we went for dinner last year. Monday is not a good day to go out since so many places are closed.

After breakfast we went back to her house to bid some bridge hands as practice before it was time for me to head to the airport. John, her husband came up from his office and told me I should just stay since I was heading home to a big hurricane. In some ways he’s right. Why should I go into the eye of the storm, but being away for so long I am ready to just face the storm and eat with it. I say that now, let’s see if I regret this decision come Friday.

As I drove away from Stori’s It started to rain, half way to Logan airport I got a text saying my flight was delayed an hour and a half. Seems like this might be the foreshadowing of my week.

Once I got to the terminal and got settled I was watching the storm outside the window and texting with Carter about a cold she felt was coming on. On the ground things were dark, and stormy. It made the time feel later than the 5:15 it was.

We finally boarded our flight and departed from Boston. As we climbed through the clouds the cabin was dark and I could hardly needlepoint. The plane shook as we cut a path through the angry clouds. Then, after a few minutes a small ray of light cut a small stripe through the interior of the cabin. The shaking subsided and I could start to see the tops of the clouds out my little porthole of a window.

A little more attitude and we were skiing on top of the thick white clouds. The light was illuminating the whole plane. We continued to assess and soon we were high above the clouds and the sun shone as brightly as a June morning. I felt like I had awoken to a new day. The sky up here is bright blue with white, link and grey clouds carpeting the earth below us.

I feel as if it is a welcoming sunshine to go home. Like Dorothy following the yellow brick road. I have been lucky with nice weather during my whole trip until today and that was hardly bad. I am praying this hurricane Florence makes a move east and saves North Carolina from nay devastation. If only I could raise the state of North Carolina above the clouds. It is beautiful, calm and peaceful up here.

Thank God For Good Friends

Since my job as Mom was done with Carter at school I had one day of activity to fill before going home tomorrow. Thankfully friends came to my rescue. Stori, my wonderful Walker’s friend, invited me to spend the night. Since I was coming to the north shore to see her I also called my college friend Janet and had lunch with her. I was thankful Janet was available because she is moving to Arizona and It is not a place I drive through regularly.

I woke up in Boston this morning and fall had clearly come to New England. When I left North Carolina eleven days go summer was in full swing. It has been hot, hot, hot in Maine and Massachusetts. I had packed all the right clothes for summer, shorts, sandles and t-shirts. But when the weather changed I was able to layer my clothes, but my feet were freezing. On my way to Manchester I stoped at a store and bought some closed toed shoes before going to meet Janet.

We had lunch at the same place we did last year when I came to visit. It was great to catch up, be it a very short visit. I also had a chance to see her daughter Sophia who just graduated from college in May. One of the bonuses of Carter going to college in Boston is that I thought it would give me a few years of being able to visit my Yankee friends. Now one of my dear ones won’t be a Yankee resident anymore. Of course our 40 friendship will still continue despite the change of location.

After I said goodbye to Janet I went off to Stori’s house. Stori and her husband John welcomed me and we settled in for an afternoon of Wimbledon tennis finals and needlepoint, at least for me and Stori. It was exactly what I needed. A nice afternoon of not going anywhere.

We watched the men’s final which went on and on. When one game took over twenty minutes I thought this match might take five hours. Thankfully the match was won in three sets and we went off for dinner.

Now we are back at their home, in our jammies, with a fire in the fireplace, watching a movie. This is exactly what I needed. Thank god for good friends who take me in and do all the things I like to do. It is so good that Carter came to Boston so I can see my friends.

One More Goodbye

When I left Carter at school last Sunday I did not have a moment of being sad, because I knew I was coming back through Boston and was going to see her again. Today I left Maine, with a bunch of bags of things I had picked up for Carter, blueberry soda, tomatoes, cheese curds… Arriving in Boston this weekend is a piece of cake compared to the crazy town that was move-in weekend. All the “No Parking”signs are down. There are no dead sofas discarded on the sidewalk. There are no crying mothers leaving their babies at college.

I was able to park in the lot across from Carter’s apartment. She came out to help me with the bags of things I brought her. “What is all this stuff?” Every college student needs capers.

I went back up to her apartment because I wanted to see it since her cute roommate Olivia had moved in. Olivia had been her roommate last semester so they already had a good living situation, but Olivia did not get to Boston until after I left last week. The girls had done a great job organizing all their stuff. Thank goodness they both like things to be clean.

Carter told me she was writing a paper and Olivia was at her job, so I checked into my hotel and took a shower before Carter walked down to meet me for dinner. We went to the Prudential Center and did a little shopping before Olivia got off work and we went to Oceanaire for dinner.

It was so nice to catch up with Olivia. The three of us had a lovely dinner and then grabbed a lyft back to my hotel first before the girls continued on to their place. Olivia asked me if I was coming back this semester and I said, “No.” I confirmed that I was not having breakfast with Carter and said goodbye to them as I got out of the car.

This goodbye is not as hard as putting her on the plane to Germany, but every time I say goodbye I know that my time with her is shorter and shorter. She is very happy at school this semester, loves her classes and professors. Especially likes her campus job as a mentor and TA. Loves her apartment and roommate. All these things are exciting and exactly what one wants for their child. I just wish my goodbye was not as I was getting out of the car without a hug. Growing up is hard on a Mother.

Practically a Local

I don’t know how this has happened, but I have come to my last full day in Maine. Warren and I have gone, gone, gone all week. Today was no different. Our MO has been to have one invitation each day and somehow we drag that out to a whole day out.

Today’s invitation was for lunch with my wonderful friend Wendie. Wendie and I first met in Washington, DC 34 years ago. She has met Warren on my previous visits so now they get along quite well.

Since coming to Maine involves too much eating Warren and I decided just to have a slice of toast this morning before walking the breakwater at Rockland. It is a my favorite place to walk because, not only is it beautiful and cool with a nice breeze across the water, but for some reason I never tire of walking the rocks. You have to pay very close attention to your steps so you don’t fall so I just don’t think about being tired. Since it is after Labor Day there we only seven or eight other people on the whole breakwater.

When we got to the lighthouse end Warren volunteered me to take a picture of a couple who were trying to take their own. After I got a few shots of them together they told us they will remember them forever since it was their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary trip. We wished them well and gave them some recommendations of places to go. They asked if we were local and Warren said yes, and that I was practically a local.

After our walk we were off to Camden to lunch with Wendie at the popular Long Grain, an asian fusion place. It is a fabulous little restaurant in a beautiful space with just nine tables set far apart from each other and food that you might find in San Francisco. We had a lot of catching up to do and after we had dragged our lunch out as long as possible our server politely asked if we could let someone else have our table.

Warren, Wendie and I were having such a good time that we just went around the corner to Zoot coffee where we got a drink and monopolized the front corner table in the window and continued our gab fest. While we were in the window we saw Warren’s friend Sue, who runs the community breakfast I worked at Monday and invited her to sit with us. After more laughs, Sue had to go back to work but not minutes later her husband stopped in and joined our table.

At about hour four of our lunch date we saw the parking enforcement guy and we realized we had parked in two hour parking. So we all ran out of the coffee shop, calling to the parking guy in a friendly way, that we were going to our cars. Warren ran ahead and jumped in the car in case we were about to get a ticket, but the parking guy was a jovial sort and just smiled and waved as he walked by our cars.

So another day where we left the house and were gone all day with only one thing to do. But what could be better than sitting around visiting with friends?

Our lunch was so good we just skipped dinner and went to Dorman’s for ice cream. I have to admit that it is a miracle that we only had one visit to Dorman’s the whole trip. I wish Russ was here to enjoy it too. Next year! We are about to play one last game, Russ will be glad he missed that.

It is hard to believe that tomorrow I go back to Boston. My week in Maine feels shorter every year. Thanks to my friends here and especially to Warren who hosts me and lets me turn his quiet life upside down with lots of going places. I’ve been coming for so many years I am practically a local.

Finally Lobster

When I come to visit Warren there is very little relaxing and lots of moving about. Today was no different than the previous days, except I finally got some lobster. Isn’t that the reason to come to Maine? Sorry Warren.

Yesterday while we were out trekking about we went by Bayside, one of our favorite areas. As we were driving around the village of tiny Victorian cottages Warren spotted a for sale sign on a darling white gothic cottage. It was late in the afternoon so there was no way to get a chance to look at, but we stopped in the real estate office and asked about it. It had gone on the market ten minutes before.

Today we went back to look at it. It has a great unobstructed view of the water and some beautiful original 1910 glass windows with the wavy glass. Other than that it is in need of a total redo. The lot makes a postage stamp seem big, the need to move the house and create a new foundation is just the beginning. It is a four month a year house at best. All that being said I still ran the numbers, drew a new floor plan and tried to make it work. I called Russ about it, but it just does not make sense. It was a fun thought.

So now that I am done looking at houses I am going to actually be on vacation for one more day. Tonight Warren and I went to my favorite lobster shack in Rockland called Claws. When Claws first opened we wondered who would want to go eat on Route one, and sit outside next to the gravel parking lot on picnic benches? Little did we know it made the best food anywhere.

Warren is not a lobster eater, but he is a good sport about going with me. I had the best lobster roll that was nothing but lobster, no mayo, no butter, just lemon and sweet as can be lobster. Claws also knows something about chowder. The seafood chowder is mostly seafood and a thick soup that has a flavor that is lacking in most chowders. I don’t think it even has potatoes in it.

So I may not be getting a Maine house this week, but I did finally get lobster. Poor Warren really wanted me to buy this house so I don’t have to spend so much time at his house. Maybe when Carter graduates.

Maine Friends

Somehow with only one thing on our social calendar today, a lunch with my friends Sheppy and Dick Vann, Warren and I were gone from the house from 9:45 AM until 6:30 PM. So much for coming to Maine to relax.

Our plan was to meet Sheppy and Dick in Liberty Maine, at a new place, 51 Main, owned by the guy who owns Liberty Graphics, our favorite shirt printer. Since Russ, Carter and I used to go to Family Camp at Medomak in Washington, Maine, near Liberty, I asked Warren if we could drive that way to lunch. You know the answer, especially since I was driving.

The first place I was looking for in Washington was the Washington General store. It was not a store that was there when we went to Camp, but friend Sean, who sailed the big boat at Camp and was the carpenter and his wife Amy had told us that they were buying this big yellow barn at the cross roads of the two streets in Washington to open this store.

Warren and I had no trouble finding the store, which was now an attractive red. As we pulled in the parking lot I saw Sean and his father walking away from the store. I jumped from the car and called out, “Hey Sean! I’m Dana Lange.” He came over and gave me a hug and showed us the store. It was fabulous! Warren and I were so impressed with it all we were sorry we were not staying to eat lunch there. Sadly, Amy was at home, but Sean told me that Holly, who owned the Camp was still at camp.

We made a visit to Medomak our next stop. I walked in the main building without knocking and called out to Holly who was upstairs with her daughter Eliana. It was a huge treat to see them. As we were talking another camp friend Chelsea pulled up and screamed when she saw me. I love when I make people scream and not because I scare them. It was too short a visit, but we had to get to lunch.

Sheppy and Dick were waiting inside the restaurant and both looked fantastic. It is their last day in Maine, so I was thrilled we were able to make this work. Sheppy treated us to our lunch since I got her breakfast when I saw her in Nashville in July. It was hardly a fair trade. After telling lots of school stories, Sheppy wanted to show us the only octagonal post office in America, which was very cute, then we went into Liberty Graphics to buy T-shirts.

After Dick and Sheppy departed Warren and I went into the best used tool store in the country, Liberty tools. I never buy anything, but I like looking at all the old planers and saws. Since we were all the way in Liberty, we decided a trip to Belfast was next.

Belfast is my ground zero for quilting. The Fiddlehead artisan store is where last August I decided I wanted to make a quilt. It is hard to believe that now one year later I have made 4 king sized quilts, one twin, two baby quilts, one table runner and 32 placemats. I couldn’t help but return to the scene of the crime. We also wanted to visit the Bella Book store, Home of the orange Julius cookie.

Sadly the store was no longer where it was last year. We went to another book store in town and inquired about it and they generously told us that Bella had moved next to the food co-op. We happily made our way down the hill and found it. The new location is so much cooler. The owner sold us the last of the orange Julius cookies with drinks and we sat in the store and talked with him all about the relocation and split a cookie. It was a charming afternoon.

As we headed south on Route one to get back to Warren’s we decided to drive through Bayside, the tiny Victorian village of cottages that were originally a turn of the century church camp, the place that Russ really loves. The story of what happened next will have to wait until tomorrow…

Better Times Ahead

There is no better place to ignore the Kavanaugh questioning than Maine. I have no TV, no radio, and no time to look at my IPad or phone. Warren kept me busy as can be today even though we only had one scheduled activity; a dinner with our friend July and Chip at six pm.

July and I went to high school together with Warren. Warren didn’t go to high school with us, but he was there. So this friendship goes back to 1976. Geez that is a long time! Friends like that drop everything when you text to say, “Can we get together?” So July planned a dinner for us to meet in a place called Hallowell, Maine.

I had never heard of Hallowell, which is right next to Augusta, the capital. I had also never been to Augusta, so Warren took this dinner invitation as an opportunity to school me on all things Augusta. This meant that our six PM dinner plans, a 42 mile drive away, involved a trip that had us leaving the coast at 9:45 AM.

First we had to go to drop the trash off at the dump. Then we got on route 17 headed toward the capital so we could make a stop at Elmer’s Barn, one of Warren’s favorite Antique spots. I use the word antiques liberally. Maybe it is because technically I could be considered an antique. But when I see empty cans of baking powder, that match ones I have in my cupboard, I don’t consider them antiques. And as such I am suspect of everything in a place. The room of floor lamps made me think of a flamboyance of flamingos rather than antiques.

After Elmer’s we finished the trek to the capital. It is no Boston. It is a small fish kind of place in a small pond. The capital dome is not even gold. One distinction that Augusta does hold is that it has one of the last remaining K-Marts. Now isn’t that something for the chamber of commerce to work with.

Warren and I stopped at the K-Mart so he could buy greeting cards from their very novel collection. My favorite section was the “better times ahead” cards. I wondered aloud if this was a new addition since Trump became president? For those who liked him they could think, “Now, we will have better times.” And for those who wonder how the hell we got this guy, they are saying, “Boy, do we need better times ahead.”

We went to lunch at a cute place called Otto’s on the Kennebec River. Sadly it is in the fairly dead downtown, where one of the few other open businesses was a formal dress and tuxedo shop that had two 1960’s era wedding dresses in a window on mannequins who were missing their hands. If you want to shop there you needed an appointment according to the dusty sign on the door. I think that last appointment was in 1972.

Our lunch was very leisurely thanks to the kitchen losing out ticket. It was fine with us since we had hours to go until we would meet our friends. After lunch we went to the very large and comprehensive Maine State Museum next door to the capital. I have to say it was worth every cent. My ticket cost $3 and Warren, as a senior citizen, got in for $2.

The Maine State Museum had fabulous exhibits about logging, and ship building and fishing, nature and so many other things Maine. The funniest part to me was the comparisons of two different eras of Maine kitchens. One in the 1800’s that had no light and we couldn’t see into it at all. I wondered if it was supposed to show you what living without electric lights was like. Warren liked the 1950’s kitchen because it had the most HoJo feel. I enjoyed all of the museum, except for the section on rocks and geology of Maine. Maine rocks are not that different from other rocks. It was a little embarrassing when Warren tooted at the Museum, but then again, the sign said he could.

When we had seen everything Maine we moved on to Hallowell. It literally is a four minute drive from the capital. The cute little town was all torn up from a Main Street water and sewer replacement. We visited another antique store which was more promising and Warren bought a pantry cupboard. From there we went to a fabulous old book store with a fine collection of rare books. We could have spent hours, but the owner wanted to close up. That was fine since I don’t need a first addition Little Women, but it was fun to see.

Finally it was time to meet our friends for the activity of the day! We got to the Slate restaurant before they did and settled into a table on the patio. Chip and July arrived and it was just like old times. The only problem with these get togethers is they are just too short. I think we need to plan a longer reunion. Maybe I will send a card from the “better times ahead” section.

Why is Vacation So Tiring?

I’m not sure if I am the only person this happens to, but if I have a very early morning appointment I have to get up for I don’t sleep well the night before. I tend to wake up every twenty minutes in fear that I am going to sleep through my alarm. Consequently, I don’t get any sleep and I am a mess.

Last night was my first night at my friend Warren’s. I was tired when I arrived, but I couldn’t be a rude guest and go straight to bed. After dinner and some time on the front porch I excused myself to write my blog, then I made the mistake of looking at Facebook, which led to me watching Megan McCain’s, President Obama’s and even President Bush’s eulogies of John McCain. I didn’t need to do that then, what I did need was to go to sleep because I had to be up at 4:15.

After my five hours of half sleep in twenty minute increments 4:15 finally came. Why would I have to get up on vacation at this hour? I was not going to catching a flight, or work on a lobster boat, no. I was going to serve breakfast at the Camden Baptist Church community breakfast. This is a volunteer job Warren does every Monday morning. I joined him last year and had a ball, so I was looking forward to doing it again. It’s just very early.

Warren gets there at five to do the prep work and it turned out it was a good thing my extra hands were there because none of the set up had been done the day before as they expected. So I rolled silverware, set up tables, chopped vegetables and made coffee. Then at 6:25 the first early bird crew came to eat. I was a waitress for the cooked to order breakfast, so I had to take orders, serve food and drinks and clear tables. It was fun and a good workout.

After the guests all departed and the whole kitchen was sanitized we departed for the HoJo home around ten in the morning. Just in time to get home, hit the wall and take a nap. I slept hard for one hour then Carter called waking me so I got up and restarted my day.

Warren and I went antiquing and then to Moody’s diner for dinner. Besides the seafood chowder the highlight was meeting Nancy Moody, whose parents had started the dinner in 1927.

After dinner it was home and time for games. Tonight it was Password. Warren broke out an addition from 1963 and the words were next to impossible. Maybe it I had more sleep I would have done better. I think my real vacation is starting tomorrow. I am taking a sleeping pill tonight to sleep hard and through the night. I need a vacation from my vacation.

My Work Is Done.

Three days of moving in is over for me. Today Carter and I went out for one last meal together then I took her to Trader Joe’s to stock her kitchen. Turns out the Trader Joe’s on Boylston is the smallest one in America. That being said, we were still able to find almost everything Carter could need. Everyone in the store couldn’t have been nicer. We had this opera student as our cashier. I did the bagging, as I like to do at any store. Since her cashier stand was no more than a one foot square box that had a shelf that pulled out for the bag, she had me stand right next to her. I had to work fast because there was no place to put items that were already rung up, other than in a bag.

With five full bags the opera singer asked a coworker to help us carry them up the escalator to the street. Carter waited with the bags while I went to the parking garage to get the car. For what I have paid to park my rental car these three days I could have rented a house at the beach for a week. When this Boston trip is over I am going to try and never have a rental car in Boston again. Uber or Lyft will be much cheaper.

I returned to Carter’s apartment to do a little help lining kitchen shelves, but it was really time for me to let her do everything on her own. Carter still had her storage boxes to unpack, clothes to put away and her kitchen to organize. I was just in the way. Since I am coming back to Boston next Saturday I will get to see the room finished then.

I happily drove my rental car out of the city to Maine for my annual pilgrimage to the mid coast to visit my friend Warren. I usually come in the summer, but this year September made more sense to tie it in with drop off. This way I won’t be home, missing Carter. Instead I am missing Russ.

On this busy day I did not get a chance to speak to my youngest sister Janet and wish her a happy birthday. I left a message, but want to give her a shout out that I love her and hope the next year is her best one yet. It’s been a busy day. It’s been a busy three days, but now I have vacation. Oh Happy Day

“Good Thing You Are Here, Because You Are Right”

Every inch of me hurts. In the last 24 hours Carter and I went to Target at 8:00 pm last night and bought two carts worth of stuff for her apartment. I broke the cart escalator in the store because I had a microwave on the shelf under the cart. The sign that said, “nothing under the cart on the escalator,” had fallen on the floor so the four employees it took to fix it were not mad at me. But Carter left the area and pretended not to know me.

After that Target run we started moving our full SUV of stuff into Carter’s second floor walk up apartment ourselves. Not wanting to wait to put together any of the four closets/shelving units /hanging racks that we bought, Carter got right to work with the Allen wrench. Finally at 10:30 I called it quits and we went to eat dinner.

Today was the real move in day. We rose early and drove 40 minutes out of town to the land of IKEA/Costco/Home Depot all right next to each other. We had heard that this day at IKEA was the busiest one all year so we planned on getting in early. Since Costco opened first we hit that up, filling a whole cart.

Then we zipped over to IKEA with the giant stream of other cars and got into it just as it was opening. Two carts later we were packing it in that giant SUV and toddling over to Home Depot. One more full cart and it was still just 11:30. We ate lunch outside the city, just so we didn’t have to pay for parking and headed back to school. It was not an official move-in day since Northeastern tries to not add to the mess that is September 1, lease change day for renters. That being said they still had hampers for moving and traffic cops everywhere.

Carter’s apartment is just across the street from the lot where we could park and unload our car. It took two hamper loads to get everything to her building and then countless trips up the stairs with armfuls of boxes and bags. Carter began assembling her rolling desk chair, but when it came time to do the arm she hit a stumbling block. I suggested a different way and she said the best thing ever to me, “Thank god you are here, because you are right.” Not words that I normally hear from my 19 year old.

I took over the chair assembly and she moved into the bathroom for a towel rack assembly. At one point she called out to me, “What are you working on?” “The fucking chair, how about you?” She replied, “The fucking towel rack.”

We kept unpacking and assembling everything we had, while we waited the delivery of the seven large boxes Carter had in storage. I carried three big loads of cardboard to the basement for recycling. By the time I climbed the back two flights for the third time I could feel my body beginning to fight back. I looked at my watch and I had done 22,000 steps and 31 flights of stairs and it was not yet 6pm.

Our cousin Andrea and her daughter Sarah arrived around seven and delivered a box I had sent to their house. At last we were going for a comfortable meal. We drove to Back Bay and Andrea found us two parking places on the street five blocks from the restaurant. We walked to dinner and after sitting for an hour my back stiffened up. I walked back ten years older than I had walked in. Sadly, we both had parking tickets. This September 1 thing in Boston is serious.

Carter’s roommate Olivia wanted to see the apartment since she was not moving in until Monday so after dinner Carter and I went back to the apartment so Carter could give her a FaceTime tour. Olivia was very happy with the progress and our choices. At last we are back at the hotel so I can recover.

Tomorrow it is just grocery shopping and then I am leaving Carter to finish unpacking and setting up making this space exactly as she wanted it. It only took seven full carts from four major retailers. I’m done.

College Check-In

Carter could hardly wait to get back to Boston. Since last semester she was only here during times of terrible snow and cold she was completely shocked by the beautiful trees and flowers. People sailing on the Charles brought a giddy sound of glee.

Our flight got in around 1:30. With great difficulty we dragged three coffin sized suit cases, two carry on roll-a-boards, one back pack and one tote bag on the bus to the car rental building. We were not alone as other Northeastern kids were doing the same thing as us. Sitting across from us was a freshman who was moving into the dorm Carter lived in last year. We told her she would have good storage and that made her smile.

Carter was skeptical about the car I rented until she saw the suv that easily held all our bags. We made a beeline to her on-campus apartment. I found a parking place on the street which Carter thought surely meant I was going to be towed away. Since it is still Freshman move in time the streets are packed with families who looked like deer in the headlights trying to find their way around.

The plan was for Carter to go check-in and then we would look at her room. Since we had to walk by her building Carter thought we might just go in and look at the hallway. When she used her ID card and room code she was able to open her apartment door. Her building is an old apartment building and we were unsure of the size of her room that she will share with her sweet roommate Olivia. We opened the door into their foyer and were happily surprised with it. She has one closet in the hallway. A bathroom with a claw foot tub. A kitchen with a fairly new refrigerator. A bedroom which is bigger than her room last year. The lighting is poor, but overall it was fairly clean and certainly workable. The closet space is the only drawback, but we are going to buy an additional clothing rack.

The door to the bedroom was not attached at the top hinge, but it is an easy fix. We made a list of things that would make it more homey, then explored the rest of the building. It has a nice laundry room and really nice common room with study rooms. Overall I think it is a hit.

We walked around the corner to check in. It was now after four and since we hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast we went to have lunch at Eataly at the Prudential center. I told Carter that she certainly goes to college in a much nicer area than I did, but that she can’t afford to shop there regularly.

Carter was so happy to be back in Boston. We did a tiny bit of shopping for beauty products then came to check-in at our groovy hotel. Carter promptly took a nap. Tonight we are going shopping at Target for cleaning equipment then are going to go back to her apartment to start dropping stuff off. Oh, the fun we are having!

West Wing Binge

For the last two weeks I have been binge watching the West Wing. I have stopped watching all things Washington on the real news in favor of watching a fictional White House. The West Wing story lines seem so much more real to me than the tweets of the current office holder. There are some themes that have not changed. One is the issue of white supremacy, another is gun control. Even though West Wing originally aired starting 19 years ago it so sad to see we have practically moved backwards on these issues.

My favorite part of the show is the playfulness that C.J. Craig, Whitehouse Press secretary, has with the press. She is able to joke with them and they have good back and forth conversations. It makes the current press secretary, SHS look like a kindergartener playing at her job. Perhaps the current White House could hire Aaron Sorkin to write their scripts.

In the West Wing there is no Fox News. The government did not love the press, but they we treated respectfully. The whole campaign about fake news is just a 45 smoke screen.

I occurred to me that 45 might have come up with it because he watches so much Fox. The word Fox sounds a lot like the French word Faux, which means false, or fake. Perhaps Fox News actually means fake news in French.

I digress. If you want to live in the illusion that America is being run competently, just watch West Wing. It has helped me sleep better at night. I know I am just tricking my brain, but frankly having a brain is exhausting in this administration where it appears no one does.

If this made you mad, I don’t care. I am living in the Bartlett administration, if just as a break from reality.

Original E-Mail Address

From time to time I get an e-mail message from a friend asking me to delete their old e-mail address because they are changing their address. Usually the reason is something like, “I get too much spam,” but secretly I am hoping that it is something more salacious than that. Perhaps an old flame has found them and is sending tawdry messages. No one ever admits to that, especially in a big group message.

I should not doubt the spam excuse since I get over 350 junk emails a day. I agree they can be annoying and every once in a while I go on a big “unsubscribe” binge. But I have never gone so far as to even consider giving up my 25 year old email mail address. Granted I have more than one e-mail address, but my original one is the most important to me.

It is not for sentimental reason, but just for memory. See, every account I have ever opened is tied to that e-mail. If I signed up for a loyalty program, that is the e-mail I used, if I opened a sign up genius account, it is with that e-mail, if I opened a stock trading account, that is the e-mail.

My fear is that when I lose my account numbers, user names, or passwords I still know the email attached to the account. See, I often forget I have even signed up for an account and only find out I did when I try and create a new one using my tired and tested old email account. It is amazing how much stuff a person signs up for in a lifetime. It is also easy to forget about it.

Tonight I was trying to make a reservation at a hotel chain I have not stayed at in years. While on their website I discover that if you are a member of their loyalty program and make your reservation through their system you save $15 on WiFi. Of course I did not know my account number or password, but I did know and still have my e-mail address, so a new password could be sent to it.

I am trying to be better about keeping track of all my stuff, but lord it is hard. I miss the days when I only had a library card and ATM card to keep track of. For now I am counting on only needing my original email address for the rest of my life. It may be full of junk, but every once in while it really saves me. If I started using a different email I would have to remember my old and new one. If I could do that I could just remember my account numbers and passwords.