Our tune for June

Apple Jam Mont Blanc pastry from Tous les Jours

We have been moderately busy.

There is always a flurry of activity in June ... two birthdays (three if you count my late mother, who would have turned eighty-eight yesterday).

Dagny's is the fourteenth, and our Chad's is the twenty-sixth -- today! Happy Birthday, Chad.

We're not planning a get-together per se but I'm sure he'll be fêted properly by all of us nonetheless.

I have three truly special sons-in-law and a lovely daughter-in-law, and I'm grateful for all of them.

Me playing with Dagny on the way home from the bakery

But before we celebrated Dagny with a party on the very day she turned eleven -- which is also Flag Day and President Trump's birthday -- we girls got up to some shenanigans.

Audrey needed to make a trip to Charlotte for an important errand, so we girls formed a plan.

Erica had at some point become aware of a Charlotte bakery named Tous les Jours. She'd wanted to go there for some time and the rest of us of course shared that desire.

If you love baked bads goods as much as we do, you will understand our yearning. Who does not love a bakery?

Turns out Tous les Jours translates (French to English) every day.

If you're ever in Charlotte and need a snack, try Tous les Jours

Yes I could eat bakery items every day. Make that many times every day. So you can see the appropriateness of this excursion.

It was an ideal time to go. Rhett was in North Carolina for VBS at our Stephanie's church. 

Erica left Elliot in the care of a teenaged girl from our church who adores that kid.

So it was that Audrey (who drove us in her brand-new Honda CR-V EX-L) and Erica and Dagny and I set out for Charlotte, a ninety-minute drive, at about eleven that morning.

Dagny's party was all about strawberries

Audrey's errand involved her visiting an office at Charlotte Douglas International Airport. We dropped her off and, not knowing how long she'd be there, decided to go shopping.

Dagny navigated with my phone while Erica drove us to the nearest TJ Maxx. Turned out there was a Burlington there too. We were happily shopping at Burlington when Audrey texted Erica that she was done.

Oh noes! We did not want to leave; we'd only just got there!

Audrey agreed to Uber over and in fact admitted that she'd already thought of it, when she'd checked and seen where we were and knew what we were doing.

Our Allissa cuddling Skippy at the party

She joined us about fifteen minutes later. We kept shopping at Burlington, made some purchases, and then hit TJ Maxx.

What a great time. Shopping! With a bakery visit on the horizon! Pinch me.

Eventually we got antsy to experience Tous les Jours, so we set out for the five-minute drive.

And oh the wonders we saw upon arrival. You take a lovely large square tray with high sides, put a piece of waxed paper in the bottom, and grab a pair of tongs.

Dagny insisted on displaying her Trump poster

Then you go to the cases and pick out what you want and put it on your tray, then go to the counter to order your coffee or whatever beverage you prefer.

There is a small seating area and we picked our spots and chowed down.

Apparently the pastries are French-Korean inspired. Fine with me. I chose the Apple Jam Mont Blanc pastry, while the girls selected, among other things, the Strawberry Croissant.

There were no complaints as we consumed our treats and coffee drinks. Mercy. I went back to the cases a second time and chose some things to take home.

I told Dagny to get a shot of her presents in the front room

In due time we were sated and decided to head for home. As we neared Columbia, a heavy rain came and we drove the last ten-or-so miles in the deluge.

Approaching our street (the girls had picked me up that morning), I saw on my phone that TG was at home. I said out loud that I just knew my beloved would be waiting in the garage with a big golf umbrella for me, as he too would be watching his phone for where we were.

Haha.

Turns out the garage door was open but TG was not standing in the open door prepared to escort me and my packages into the house without getting drenched.

She truly is berry berry sweet

He'd just got home and was sitting in the driveway in his car, waiting for the rain to abate.

It was coming down like cats, dogs, and ferrets. Maybe an armadillo or two.

Audrey pulled up more or less behind my garaged Cadillac.

I called TG. After he said hello, I wasted no time requesting that he brave the rain to get the umbrella out of my car and rescue me.

Birthday confection created by Erica

He chuckled. Ooookay, he said. You know how that sounded: Yes my love I will (reluctantly) sacrifice myself for you.

Haha.

Which he did, rather gallantly, I thought. Dagny reached over the back seat and got my shopping haul and passed it up to me. TG got those first and took them into the house, then came back and got me.

As he sweetly pointed out, he needed a shower anyway.

The strawberries would not stay on the candles

Wasn't that exciting? Yes it was.

Then we went into full party-planning mode for Dagny's upcoming birthday only two days hence.

Stephanie and her three children arrived on Friday night ahead of the party on Saturday. 

The theme we chose was Strawberries. I know; we realized that generally that is a popular theme for one-year-old girls. We just decided to add the other one. It was easy.

Our Mike took this birthday portrait of Dagny

I had already bought for her a pair of Betsey Johnson flip-flops featuring a large luscious sparkling strawberry on the top of one and a sparkling slice of lemon on the other.

And no I did not pay the Amazon price for those; I got them for significantly less on TJ Maxx's website.

Our meal was chicken drummettes which I got for free (story on that later), pigs in blankets with several dipping sauces, baked macaroni and cheese, and Bird's Eye McKenzie's Creamed Corn which you absolutely must try if you have not already.

Dagny, having first tasted that cream corn at my house, is wild about it. It is excellent. Audrey bought the frozen cream-corn rolls and I heated them up in the crock pot because there was a lot. Everyone loved it.

The cake was lusciously lopsided and so delicious

Erica had been commissioned to create the birthday cake, which she made with homemade angel food cake, real whipped cream that she stabilized with sour cream (you should try that), and of course gobs of fresh strawberries.

Dagny had a blast opening her gifts. There was a special gift at the very end of her present-opening time that I will share with you later.

By about five in the afternoon, everyone was gone. Dagny went home with her Aunt Stephanie and cousins because she would be going with them on the following Monday to church camp.

It was junior camp week at Mount Moriah Christian Camp in Knoxville, and our son-in-law Joel was the preacher for the week.

We took a selfie at the Billy Graham Library

Thus, the whole family went along although Dagny was the only camper. It was her first time to go to camp, so we were glad that her relatives would be on hand in case she got homesick.

But she didn't. She had a ball and can't wait to go back next year. She swam and zip-lined and made new friends and it was all entirely positive.

Meanwhile, TG and I celebrated our forty-sixth wedding anniversary on the same day that camp began: Monday, June sixteenth.

It's almost always my call as to what we do that day, and although I was ambivalent even up to the morning of, we decided to drive to Charlotte and take in the Billy Graham Library.

The lady who took this was a bride in 1979 too

It was exceptional. Everyone should go, no matter your spiritual orientation.

The first thing you do is go through the farm house where Billy Graham was reared. The house has been moved not once but twice, brick-by-brick, to finally rest at this site. It is a truly special house and I enjoyed looking at the pictures on the walls and many family artifacts that are on display there.

As we left, I asked the super-nice lady who was, along with her husband, one of the host that day, if she could remember what she was doing exactly forty-six years ago that day.

I always ask someone that on my anniversary.

She looked confused so I said, I know what I was doing: getting married. To him (I pointed TG-ward).

The lady burst into a happy smile. We just celebrated forty-six! she exclaimed, gesturing towards her husband who was standing in the Billy Graham living room. 

She had an extraordinary life

She told me that they had wed in April of Nineteen Seventy-Nine. So, she said, I was a happy newlywed on this day forty-six years ago.

We enjoyed chatting and then she insisted on taking a picture of us with the BG Library in the background.

After finishing in the library and gift shop, we visited Billy and Ruth Graham's graves, which are on the grounds. I was particularly taken with Ruth's stone.

She'd apparently often been amused by road signs at the conclusion of onerous stretches of construction. The sign would read:

End of Construction. Thank you for your patience.

So she had told Billy and her children that she wanted that phrase on her stone. At the top, above her name and the dates that define her time on this earth, is a Chinese character that translates Righteousness.

Stephanie captured Dagny as she arrived at church camp

Ruth Bell Graham was a missionary child born in China. Visting her and her husband's graves was a moving experience.

To cap off the day, we went to the Cheesecake Factory at SouthPark Mall for a late lunch. I had a cheeseburger and fries and it was excellent in every way. No cheesecake. We dawdled a bit at the mall after that, but were home by six and enjoyed a quiet evening.

One of the things i gave to Dagny for her birthday was a pair of silky summer pajamas in black with white trim. I have these same pajamas in the pant-and-long-sleeve version and I love them.

She had requested the pajamas and is loving them so much along with the transparent socks I got for her, for which she also specifically asked.

It's not what it looks like

So Audrey took a picture of her wearing the pajamas and it turned out so funny. It looks like either the house is miniature or Dagny is a giant, which of course is not the case.

It's interesting how one's point of view can change based on something as innocuous as a camera angle.

Have you ever taken a picture that turned out to look not exactly like what you saw through the lens? I hope you'll tell me about it.

And that is all for now.

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A weekend to remember

We were decorated for the patriotic holidays

I reckon that, before June gets away from me and Fourth of July firecrackers are exploding all around, I should tell you about what we did to celebrate Memorial Day.

It was an extended weekend with lots of activities for everyone.

Everything was kicked off on the Thursday before the holiday, when Audrey met Andrew halfway (more or less; I think Andrew did the heavy lifting driving-wise) between Columbia and Knoxville, to pick up Ember and Guy and take them to her house.

The five cousins hanging out at Erica's house

Andrew had to fly (he pilots a charter jet) on Friday but would arrive in Columbia on Saturday and spend the remainder of the holiday weekend with us.

Brittany was on a trip with her sister and would not be among us, and we would miss her.

That night TG and I went out to supper at Texas Roadhouse and then to Erica's, where Audrey had brought Ember and Guy to hang out with their cousins.

I captured Guy but he wanted to get away

The next day, Friday, I went back to Erica's to spend the day with the girls and the five children. Mostly we watched them play -- first outside in the back yard sprinklers, then inside to work over all of the toys.

I'm pretty sure we all ate together that night at Erica's but I cannot recall what we had.

On Saturday, in anticipation of Andrew's arrival, I planned a spaghetti supper. 

This pot-sized pasta is pirate approved

Since you asked, here's how I make my spaghetti. I use Hunt's Traditional Pasta Sauce, which comes in a can.

It's cheap and delicious. I will say no more.

Except, I'll tell you how I zhuzh it up.

Erica took the children to a local Memorial Day event on Saturday

To the three cans of sauce that I dump into my crock pot, I add three pounds of lean ground beef that has been browned to perfection, meaning it is crumbles. Small crumbles; no big hunks.

Once that merger is accomplished, I add to the sauce/meat mixture a packet of spaghetti sauce seasoning. Trust me; it makes it way more better.

Then I add a jar or can (drained) of mushroom pieces and stems, and a packet of pepperoni slices.

All geared up for the summer months

Before throwing the pepperoni into the sauce, I arrange the slices on a paper towel (on a plate), and give them about one minute in the microwave.

Y'all! That makes the tastiest spaghetti sauce! Everyone loves it. The only thing I serve with it is spicy toast.

No that's not garlic toast; this is different. You want to use a thick bread that lends itself to toasting -- not the kind of bread you'd use for a sandwich, or morning toast.

I can't resist cute salt and pepper shakers

I used a Panera Bread Tomato Basil Loaf because that's what I had in the freezer.

On the thick slices of bread you slather real butter and a sprinkle of creole seasoning like Zatarain's or Tony Chachere's (I use Tony Chachere's). Then pop it under the broiler until it's golden brown.

There won't be any left over. It is a lovely complement to the spaghetti. And I don't make anyone eat salad. They don't want it anyway. They just want their spaghetti.

Deviled eggs are standard at most of our gatherings

BTW I used pot-sized angel hair pasta this time, and I'm sold on that concept too.

When everyone was full we visited for a while longer before the families went home. Andrew and his littles were staying at Audrey's house because when Stephanie's family arrived the next night, they'd stay with me.

On Sunday morning we all met up again at church. After services we went to East Bay Deli for lunch.

The Pretzel Salad that Andrew finds irresistible

That night around eleven, Stephanie and her family arrived. Joel is a pastor and they could not set out on the three-hour trip until after their evening service.

After one sleep it was Memorial Day, and we'd planned a big meal and -- because it's us -- a birthday party.

This would be to honor Erica, whose birthday was several days later. We always have her party on Memorial Day.

We serve it up in style

The weather was not sunny but rather gray and rainy-ish, but the kids still jumped in the pool and spent several hours out there.

For our meal we had barbecue pulled pork sandwiches, hot dogs, macaroni and cheese, deviled eggs, cole slaw, chips, and pretzel salad.

Which is not a salad at all, but a dessert-type side involving strawberries and Jello on top and a mixture of cream cheese and Cool Whip and sugar in the middle, atop pretzels mixed with butter and sugar to form a crust. We eat it alongside our meal.

Guy got so attached to this police car of Rhett's that Erica gave it to him

It's my Andrew's favorite so I almost always make it when he is going to be here. His wife makes it for him too.

But upon arrival for a party, he checks the garage refrigerator to make sure it's in there before he even comes into the house.

We were having a marvelous time but eventually I made my four children come outside (hoping we would not get rained on) so that I could get some pictures of them. 

My babies

Then each of them summoned their children and eventually I had some shots of all four of our kids plus all eight of their kids.

One must do these things or regret that one did not. We've all been there.

I think some more swimming took place at that point, but eventually we assembled again for cake and coffee and Erica's birthday party.

My babies and their babies

Our cakes were store-bought but we had not bought them. They were free. Someday soon I will tell you all about that.

One of the cakes was a cinnamon confection and the other was a bundt-style cake with cream cheese frosting roses on top.

They were both excellent and we reduced them to crumbs. There was ice cream too.

Two cakes and both free

Erica, who would be turning thirty-nine in a few days, got lots of nice gifts and we made over her and did it up right.

At some point our Joel left for home -- they'd come in two cars -- because he had pastoral duties the next morning. Stephanie and the children would stay another night.

On Tuesday everyone came back and we visited for a while before the out-of-towners started heading home.

Our Erica is Thirty Fine

Stephanie and her three would be back in a few weeks for Dagny's birthday, which was June fourteenth.

But a few days before that, she met up with Erica at the halfway point so that Rhett could go to Uncle Joel and Aunt Stephanie's house, and spend time with them and his North Carolina cousins, and attend their church's Vacation Bible School.

The theme was the Wild West, and the sessions met in the evenings rather than the mornings. The kids, workers, and parents all seem to prefer that schedule.

It's not a birthday party without balloons

Rhett had a great time and Stephanie got so many cute pictures of him.

But he was glad to get back home when Stephanie returned here for Dagny's party.

Skippy and Rhett after a swim

So it has been a busy summer so far, and I say summer realizing that it only turned summer three days ago, but it's so hot here that it has been summer for several weeks already.

And in case you're wondering, yes we extend summer into fall too. It gets interesting. 

Our Rhett-man had a great time at Wild West VBS

Next time I'll tell you about Dagny's birthday celebrations, and about her first-ever trip to summer camp, and what all else we have been up to.

Meanwhile, tell me what has been occupying your warm-weather season. I hope it's all good.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Monday :: Happy Summer

Friends, family, festivities, and the Friendly Confines

Me and the girlies of Michigan, on May sixth

It's past but I'm going to show you my Easter table. In fact, two Easter tables: mine at home and Audrey's at hers, where we had Easter dinner.

And then you must see my Month-of-May table, honoring mostly, Mother's Day. Towards the end I do switch some mommy things out for some Memorial Day things.

Decorative but not functional

I don't do a great deal of seasonal decorating aside from my dining table and the ledge that surrounds it. And of course the front door.

Now as for Easter. I know what the holiday is about: the resurrection from the dead of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. I know that it's not open for interpretation.

This bottle comes out for the month of May

However. While I have a white cross that of course is part of the display, I do bring out my bunny collection during April. A few egg-type decorations too. Don't judge.

But I'm getting ahead of myself because I wanted to start with my/our most recent adventures, and work backwards.

The roses were from my son Andrew

That way, I have a shot at keeping you on your toes.

We had a pleasant Mother's Day. We waited to celebrate until the Monday after, when a bunch of us went out to a Chinese buffet restaurant and exchanged all of our gifts.

Dagny and family spent the week before Mother's Day in Washington DC

(I buy gifts for my daughters on Mother's Day because they are mothers, and they buy me gifts because I am their mother.)

On that same Monday -- this past -- our Andrew texted me to let me know that he was in Chicago overnight. Since the Cubs were back in town, he wanted to know where the best seats were.

Rhett and Elliot were thrilled with their gifts from Mari

(Andrew is a pilot who flies a charter jet. He had flown clients to Chicago and just had to wait for them to be ready to go back home.)

So I told him, and he got seats near where I said, and he and a buddy co-pilot went to the game. And he had a fantastic time, not having been to Wrigley since he was a child too young to remember, and he sent me some great pictures of the stadium and the sky.

The sunset at Wrigley Field on May 12 when Andrew was there

(Since TG and I had been at Wrigley for a game exactly one week earlier, it made me wonder how many more times in this life that the stars will align in just such a way. I am thinking zero times.)

On Tuesday a box of two dozen roses arrived from Andrew. He told me that when he ordered them, the agreement was that they would be delivered on Sunday. Mother's Day.

I told Andrew that Dansby is my favorite player so he sent me this

I'm sure Andrew wondered why, as we were texting on the day before about the Cubs game, that I never mentioned the flowers. Because I didn't yet know about the flowers. Arrgghh.

But I liked receiving the roses on Tuesday and have enjoyed them a great deal. Such pretty colors! Although Andrew said his instructions were to include a majority of pink and white roses, and he was disappointed, I told him that I love them just the way they are.

Erica says this is Sibi impersonating an otter

Still working backwards, Erica came over last Saturday to bring Rizzo home. The Chericas had kept him for us while we were out of town for the better part of a week.

The purpose of our recent trip was two-fold: to visit Wrigley Field once again and see our Cubbies play a baseball game in the Friendly Confines, and to visit my dear friend Mari and her husband Bob in Allendale, Michigan. Just west of Grand Rapids.

Sibi does have ears ... and side eye ... to spare

The game came first, on Monday, May fifth, and it was as much fun as always, and the home team won, which was a joyful outcome. Yes we sang Go Cubs Go and I waved my large W flag.

It is a mere two-and-a-half-hour drive from Chicago to Mari's house, and we arrived there at about two in the afternoon on Tuesday, having lost an hour in the process (it's one hour earlier in Chicago than at Mari's).

Me in the courtyard of our hotel before leaving for Allendale

But that was fine because if we'd left for home directly from Chicago, we would have misplaced the very same hour.

Mari and Bob were there on the front porch to greet us, and a truly wonderful visit commenced. That evening, Mari's two daughters and their husbands and children came over for grilled hamburgers.

Meet Rose, one of the golden speed bumps

I have followed Mari's blog long enough to have commented on the birth of all of these children, and over the years both Mari and I have lavished one another's kids and grandkids with gifts for visits or special occasions such as weddings and births and so forth.

So, I've seen Alaina and Ruby grow up, and I rejoiced at the births of Cassie and Connor, and it was a special treat to meet each one of them.

Violet, the other golden speed bump at Barefoot Dave's in Grand Haven

Alaina and Ruby both had gifts for me, and I had gifts for all four children, and after supper we enjoyed opening those. Then we all sat outside on the porch on the cool spring evening.

The next day, Mari and Bob had planned a trip for us to Holland, Michigan -- where it was Tulip Time -- and to Grand Haven, and then to the White River Light Station, for sightseeing.

Even in springtime, the cemetery was haunting

But our first stop was at Oak Hill Cemetery in Grand Rapids, where we spent a happy few hours photographing some breathtaking monuments and flowering trees.

The weather was perfect; Not hot and not cold. Balmy, sunny, sublime. To wander a historic cemetery with no time constraints, with friends who understand how much I love this and who share my enthusiasm, was so great and I am so grateful.

There was a glut of beauty both natural and man-made

Then we headed for Holland, where it was so crowded that we couldn't even find a parking spot. I did get a glimpse from afar of the original old-country windmill that stands in a field of tulips. I did not see the tulips but I did see the windmill.

So Bob drove us to Grand Haven, where there's a spectacular red lighthouse. When we got out of the car, I was shocked to learn that the temperature on the lake was twenty degrees colder than in Grand Rapids, and there was a stiff wind.

The redbud trees were showing out

I gamely walked all the way out on the pier to the light, but I was suffering. Still, it was an awesome experience because I've seen Mari's blog photos year after year, during the winter, of this pier when it's clad in ice.

She braves that every year to get the shots, so I tried not to complain too much of the cold on a day in early May. BUT next time I'll get my Pittsburgh Pirates zip-up sweatshirt out of the car and bring it with me any time I'm near Lake Michigan.

It was cold at the White River Light Station too

Thought you were a Cubs fan, you may be thinking. Yes. Yes I am; but we were in Pittsburgh last spring to see them play our Cubs at PNC Park, and the day turned so cold that I had to buy a jacket.

They don't sell Cubs merch in Pittsburgh.

Another view of the tiny lighthouse that has seen 150 winters

(And yes I have Cubs merch -- several t-shirts and a player jersey and even a sweatshirt that's on the thinner side -- but I haven't yet found the right Cubs jacket. I'm still shopping.)

I had also forgot my jacket two days earlier when we were in Chicago for the Cubs game at Wrigley Field. When we set out from our hotel to walk the half-mile to the ballpark, the sun was shining and it was warm.

Propeller on the grounds of the White River Light

But TG and I sit in upper-deck seats because we love the view, and I'd forgotten about the shadows up there, and the fact that night was coming, and then there's the wind whipping off the lake.

And yes I've been there before, and I know all about the fickle Chicago weather, and I still got it wrong.

My friend Marsha gave me a new deviled egg platter

And yes I would wear a Pirates jacket to a Cubs game. Because I'm a pirate.

For a few weeks prior to our trip to Chicago, we hosted Sybil Ann at our house. Who, you may be thinking, is Sybil Ann? 

That's the Chericas' dog, better known as Sibi. She's a tiny hybrid of Chihuahua and something else that I never can remember.

Our Easter table at Audrey's house

Since Erica was going to be keeping my Rizzo while we were gone, I'd been eager to have Sibi stay for a few weeks because I like having her around and Rizzo likes her too.

They play and carry on like siblings, and since Chad's dog Jonah went away over the Rainbow Bridge last fall, Sibi has been lonely.

We had the cross and also bunnies

And before that, it was Easter.

Our church had a sunrise service and breakfast, but it was too early for me so I went at regular church time.

The day before, I'd spent some time at Audrey's preparing for Easter dinner.

And there were cookies and fritters for Easter too

It all came off without a hitch. We had a succulent spiral-cut brown-sugar-glazed ham, funeral potatoes, pineapple casserole, broccoli casserole, deviled eggs, rolls with butter, and I don't know what all else, except I do recall that Erica made her famous fruit trifle.

It was a scrumptious meal and the weather was pretty that day, and now it's a happy memory.

TG and me together in Chicago

That brings me to where I left you a few weeks ago, because it was on Good Friday that we'd gone to Culver's on the North Carolina-South Carolina line, for the party celebrating our Allissa's seventeenth birthday.

I hope you're not confused. Perhaps another read-through? Or leave your questions in the comments.

TG and me on Easter Sunday

Speaking of Allissa and all of the family in North Carolina, they'll be here as usual for Memorial Day a week from Monday. 

Our daughter-in-law Brittany is going on a trip, but Andrew and Ember and Guy will be with us for that holiday. I'll share all about it at the appropriate time. 

It's also the day that we traditionally celebrate our Erica's birthday, although that is not officially until May thirtieth.

Another birthday party. Can you believe?

And that is all for now.

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Happy Thursday

Have it our way

It really is an incredible sandwich. When they do it right.

Since I rhapsodized earlier this week about a certain hamburger -- Joyland's The Original Crustburger, to be specific -- it makes sense to me to tell you about two other recent hamburger/sandwich experiences.

It is a cautionary tale if ever there was one.

A few weeks ago -- it was Good Friday -- we all traipsed up to the line between the states of North and South Carolina, Exit 90 off of I-77, the Fort Mill (or Carowinds) exit, for a birthday party.

The birthday honoree was none other than our beloved granddaughter Allissa, who turned seventeen on Tax Day.

You may recall, if you've been reading I'm Having A Thought Here for any length of time, that we have met our eldest, Stephanie, and her family in that area several times a year, for years, to celebrate birthdays.

At that exit are two restaurants that are ideal for such gatherings: Cracker Barrel and Culver's.

As you no doubt know, Cracker Barrel is a sit-down dining experience, with a proper server for your table, and all that. Most pleasant.

Culver's is fast food but it is GOOD fast food. Good the way that Chick-fil-A is good. This ain't McDonald's. The major draw at Culver's is the ButterBurger. And then there's that frozen custard. Don't get me started.

Be that as it may, for the overwhelming majority of the times we have met at the state line for birthday parties, the family chose Cracker Barrel as our venue.

Until last fall, when as I wrote here, we met there for a small bridal shower for Audrey, and found that some random person in the Cracker Barrel organization who no doubt thinks they are a genius, decided to overhaul the interior of this American institution.

It's not a birthday without balloons

Y'all. Once again: If it ain't broke, don't fix it. And as a side note, the two Cracker Barrels in our neck of the woods remain as they were. May it ever be so.

Anyway after that experience I vowed to never darken the door of that particular Cracker Barrel again, and I meant it, so that meant that what was left for a party venue at that exit which is so convenient for all involved, was Culver's.

The children -- especially our North Carolina grandchildren a/k/a the Tar Heel Tootsies -- were thrilled at that idea. They adore Culver's.

So it was that we all met up at the dinner hour on the appointed day. That's when things began to go downhill. The problem seemed to be that that Culver's location, while extremely popular, is poorly managed.

Although there were scads of employees, the wait times were excessive. Stephanie had submitted her order via the app while on the road between her house and Culver's, and yet she still waited more than an hour after arriving at the restaurant, before they came up with her family's meals.

She had to beg, and plead, and stand in line for at least a half hour, to get their order. It was frustrating.

The ButterBurgers, they claim, are not frozen (the patties, that is) and are cooked to order. Naturally that takes a beat longer but even allowing for this, and for the fact that it was a Friday night, the wait times were too long.

Meanwhile I, who do not as a rule order anything on apps, had studied the Culver's menu on my phone while we were on the road. It takes us ninety minutes to get there, so there was plenty of time.

I knew I wanted the classic ButterBurger with fries. As it turns out though, they have a version called The Works which happens to be just the way I like my burger: with ketchup, yellow mustard, pickles, and diced onion.

Ooooh that's what I'm having, I enthused to TG as he drove.

That was one happy birthday cake

And yet, after we arrived and greeted everyone and arranged our tables to accommodate the large group, and I went to the counter to order, something went wrong.

Of course I was not aware until a good deal of time later (as I said, it was taking them a minute to get the orders out), that something had gone wrong.

So it was that when my hamburger and fries arrived at the table (they bring it out to you), and I took a few bites, I realized that I was eating a double (two patties) and not a single, which is what I had ordered.

Also, the double burger in question was slathered with mayonnaise -- the pirate does NOT do mayonnaise as a sandwich topping -- plus a huge slice of tomato, and lettuce, and giant rings of red onion. The burger was so stuffed with stuff I never order on a burger, that I was immediately grossed out.

I took it back up to the counter and got someone's attention. She turned out to be a polite and professional young lady. I explained that I had not been served the burger that I ordered.

She assessed the situation and concluded -- not in an unkind way -- that I had not ordered correctly. She surmised that I had used the words All The Way instead of The Works when telling the cashier what I wanted.

But, I said (because I did not remember doing that), why then do I have a double instead of a single? Because I know I ordered a single.

She said she did not know but not to worry, she would see that all was put right.

And it took a while, but she did indeed do that, and the resulting ButterBurger The Works was intensely delicious. I followed it up with a small serving of chocolate frozen custard.

So all really is well that ends well.

Stephanie had thought of everything for Lissy's party

I wish I could say the same about the Jersey Mike's Hot Honey Chicken Cheese Steak that TG and I ordered earlier this week.

Wow they eat a lot of fast food, you may be thinking. Or even saying. Really we don't, but on occasion we do. Just go with it.

It's baseball season, and during a recent game which TG and I watch with our MLB subscription so that we never miss a Cubs game, Jersey Mike's advertised this sandwich.

I was immediately intrigued because the words "hot honey" have a particular charm to my ear.

So it was that a few weeks later, on a Sunday afternoon when we had Dagny with us, we decided that lunch would be sandwiches from Jersey Mike's. Because I had to try that hot honey chicken cheese steak sub.

Dagny wanted a chipotle chicken sub, so she ordered the half-sandwich version of that. TG and I got the giant size of the hot honey chicken cheese steak, cut in half. This sandwich costs just under twenty dollars.

The lady behind the counter was slightly off. As in, she refused to look up at anyone, and she mumbled. So that, when you were standing there and she was saying something, you could barely hear her and you weren't sure if it was you she was addressing.

But we got through it, and took our sandwiches home and sat down for lunch.

When I tell you that you must try this sandwich, I am not kidding. The Jersey Mike's Hot Honey Chicken Cheese Steak is money. Scrumptious. Just the right amount of heat. Exceptionally fresh and tasty ingredients. Everything and I mean everything, that a hot sub sandwich should be.

On top of the succulent flaked chicken which is tender and flavorful, they put slicing pepperoni as well as American cheese and onion. Then they drizzle the hot honey and the result is spectacular. 

Our beautiful Allissa is seventeen

I could not forget that sandwich but I let about three weeks elapse before deciding that it was time to have another one. My mouth was watering just thinking about it.

This was last Monday. We'd had a busy day. Some workmen were at the house well into the dinner hour, repairing the through-the-wall unit in our sun room. It was seven o'clock before they left.

And that was the exact time that the Cubs home game was set to start (after a wee rain delay), and so I asked TG, who already had one small errand to run, if he'd go by the Jersey Mike's (it is a scant two miles from our house) and get us a Hot Honey Chicken Cheese Steak.

He said sure, and I settled in to watch the game, dreaming of the scrumptiousness of that sandwich.

TG returned home and we got our plates ready and took them to the TV room to continue watching the game.

After a few bites, I looked at my sandwich. The perfectly cooked, spicy and tasty chicken was there. But the slicing pepperoni, the American cheese, the onions, and the hot honey were missing. Just not there.

I called the Jersey Mike's. I explained the situation to the friendly young lady who answered the phone. She asked if we had our receipt. I said yes.

She said, Would you like your money back? I hadn't really thought that far ahead and I just said words to the effect of, well what I want is to be eating the sandwich that we ordered. And we sort of left it at that.

But after we'd eaten our plain chicken sandwiches with no pepperoni, no cheese, no onion, and no hot honey, TG decided to take his receipt back over there and see if they'd at least comp us a sandwich for a future date.

Dagny and her cousin Rhett are attached to one another

He returned home a bit later and pronounced that attempt as having been a total disaster. Not only would they do nothing to compensate us for being given an incorrect order, but they accused TG of not ordering it correctly.

It was all his fault, the lady (not the nice one who I talked to on the phone aand who offered us our money back, but the one who mumbles and will not look at you) behind the counter said. You ordered the chicken sixteen and that's how it comes.

TG said: But I pointed at the big placard to the left of the display menu behind the counter, and said I want that one, the hot honey one.

(The Hot Honey Chicken Cheese Steak is the only hot sub on the Jersey Mike's menu that features hot honey.)

She ignored him. You already ate it and we're not giving you nothing, is a paraphrase of her reply.

Can you imagine treating a customer like that? They come to you with their receipt and tell you that you got their order wrong, and you argue with them, blame them, and send them away with zero reason to feel like ever visiting Jersey Mike's again.

It sort of reminded me of this odd experience that you may remember that we had, about a year ago. It was at the Runway Cafe at the Greenville Downtown Airport.

You can sit in the windows which double as walls and watch small planes land and take off while enjoying a hamburger and fries.

Elliot a/k/a Skippy was enthusiastic about all that occurred

That was the time that the extremely testy lady at the counter, after I'd told her what I wanted on my burger, told me that I was required to order by telling her what I did NOT want on my burger.

? ? ? ? ?

That one still amazes me. Super strange.

Anyway, we got through that and we'll get through this too, but it makes me wonder why so many angry people work behind counters where food is ordered and served up, dealing constantly with the public, when they in fact seem to vehemently dislike the public, and cannot admit it when they fail in their mission.

By the way, during college I worked as a waitress. That is hard work, and I loved it. It made me so happy to trot around getting folks what they needed. Good times.

But aside from that, whatever happened to rule number one, the customer is always right? And when in doubt, refer back to rule number one?

I don't want to set the world on fire ... I just want to start a flame in your heart

Seems to have gone with the wind. More's the pity.

The takeaway? When you approach a counter (or the window) in a fast food place, say what you mean and mean what you say. As in, tell them EXACTLY what you want and do not want on that order.

At that point? All I can come up with is, may the odds be ever in your favor.

And that is all for now.

=0=0=0=

Happy Thursday

If I May

Andrew's floral gift cheered me for many days

The pirate reckons that before April is over, she should tell you about her March.

Because it's almost May.

We had an eventful March. Not only all of the birthdays, although there are plenty of those.

Starting with mine, which falls on the seventh of March every single year.

It is rare that TG and I don't take a wee trip for my birthday, but this year we did not go far. I chose Charleston.

Charleston in March is a great idea because unlike most of the other months of the year, it will not be hot.

And this time it was actually on the chilly side, due to not only the temperature, but the windiness.

Joyland in Charleston is kitty-cornered from the Francis Marion Hotel

This would be a multi-layered trip but the first part was to leave the house after lunchtime on the day before my birthday, and head for Charleston. We arrived in the mid afternoon.

We parked our car (that's expensive, ugh) and walked on King Street for several hours, just being tourists.

I made a few small purchases, but nothing major. One of our other March birthdays is Audrey, and I found something for her at H&M, to go with another thing that I'd already bought for her.

One of my primary goals in visiting Charleston was to eat at Joyland.

I'm not sure how I became aware of this relatively new hamburger chain. (Online, no doubt.) All I knew was that there was a Joyland in Nashville, and for the latter part of 2024, I knew that one was set to open in Charleston.

So I kept a weather eye and sure enough, it was open in time for me to hang out there on my birthday trip.

Happy on the inside and happy for your insides

I'm not sure how this works for pirates on the bounding main but I love a hamburger and fries so much that it may in fact be my favorite meal.

Joyland had caught my eye because of their signature burger, called The Original Crustburger.

The reviews were rave so I was determined to partake. Even so, when TG and I walked in and I approached the counter where you order, I asked the lady: Is this crustburger all it's cracked up to be?

She nodded sagely. We sell a lot of them, she affirmed.

OK let's do it, I said.

The crustburger goes like this: They start cooking the patty and in due time they smash it to within a inch of its life. It gets all flat, with lacy edges. I mean really flat. With really lacy edges.

The sky was glorious in Charleston for my birthday

I am inordinately fond of those lacy, crispy edges.

THEN they take the bun and turn it inside out. Yes! They put the insides of the bun on the grill, then put the flattened patty on the outside, with cheese, and assemble the hamburger.

Then they flatten the whole thing until it stands no more than a half inch high.

I know it sounds crazy, hence my slight hesitation upon entering the establishment and preparing to order.

My ideal hambuger is well done, with ketchup, mustard, diced onion, and extra pickle. And that's all.

I don't always have the onion but as I said, that is my ideal burger setup.

Rhett was just glad to be out of the car

Joyland did itself proud. Alongside a generous serving of just-right crinkle fries, The Original Crustburger was extraordinarily delicious.

I could get in my car and drive the two hours to Charleston and get one of those right now. If only the parking weren't so expensive.

Another interesting thing to observe about Joyland in Charleston is its location.

For our honeymoon nearly 46 years ago, TG and I drove from Atlanta to Charleston. We stayed at the Francis Marion Hotel on Citadel Square.

The Square is like a smallish park. I think that for a long time it was known as Marion Square and that originally it was on the site of The Citadel. TG Class of '74. That's 1974.

The day after our wedding, we walked across the park to Citadel Square Baptist Church and attended the Sunday morning service.

Dagny got in on the flag-lowering action

Later that day we had a nice meal at S&S Cafeteria -- if you know, you know. That S&S location is long gone but there are still S&S Cafeterias in Charleston.

BUT the interesting thing about Joyland is that it is across the street from Citadel Square. And as TG and I approached it, we were walking parallel, about 75 yards away, to the path we walked on that long-ago morning from our hotel to Citadel Square Baptist Church.

(Which is now called Citadel Square Church, so as, I suppose, not to offend anyone with the non-inclusivity of Baptist.)

I glanced to my left and thought I saw that oh-so-green 22-year-old bride and her groom on that sunny June morning -- Father's Day -- but I could not be sure.

It was a different world, The Year of Our Lord Nineteen Seventy-Nine. That IS for sure.

After that remarkable repast at Joyland, of which I thoroughly enjoyed every last crumb, TG walked back to where we'd parked our car and then drove back to retrieve me, and we repaired to our hotel.

And she got in there to help fold

It was the last early-dark weekend of the spring and it was getting colder and windier, and we enjoy those quiet evenings in our hotel, propped up on pillows in the king-sized bed, looking at our respective devices while Forensic Files plays in a never-ending loop on the TV.

It is what it is and don't knock it until you've tried it, and any/all other appropriate cliché material that springs to mind.

The next day -- my actual birthday -- was going to be eventful because Audrey and Dagny and Erica and Rhett and Elliot were joining us for the day and to spend the second night (they had rooms in the hotel beside ours).

While still drinking my coffee on the morning of my birthday, I got a text from a florist. His name was David and he wondered if it was okay to leave some flowers on my front porch near the door.

I responded that no, that wouldn't work and would he mind taking them next door to my neighbor?

He said of course he wouldn't mind, and a little bit later he let me know that my flowers were safe with the folks who live next door.

She is diligently homeschooled and it was a field trip

I knew they were from our Andrew and I knew they were very pretty because the florist sent me a picture of them. I looked forward to seeing my bouquet in person and meanwhile I hoped that our neighbors would enjoy babysitting it.

So it was that, after coffee and other preparations, TG and I set out for Liberty Square, from which you can take the ferry to Fort Sumter. 

Despite having lived in South Carolina for 23 years, I had yet to take a tour of Fort Sumter. I thought it was high time.

We had tickets for the twelve noon ferry. The girls and their children had got up early and were making their way towards us.

Then we hit a snag. As in, Audrey let us know that they had encountered a significant traffic jam and, even though they took the recommended detour, they would not be there in time to take the twelve noon ferry.

I went to the ticket window and prepared to go through something unpleasant in order to get all of that straightened out.

The elusive Elliot a/k/a Skippy would not look at the camera

But to my complete delight and to-this-day awe, the window was being worked by a truly extraordinary young man.

First, he listened patiently while I told him the problem. That we had tickets for the twelve noon ferry to Fort Sumter but that the rest of our party, who also had tickets for the twelve noon ferry, would not be there on time. Due to circumstances beyond their control.

He smiled. He went to work. And within five minutes I was holding new tickets for TG and me, for the two forty-five ferry to Fort Sumter, but also Audrey's and Erica's and the children's tickets for the same time.

I told him he could not have given me a better birthday gift than to have handled that potentially ultra-stressful situation with so much professionalism and courtesy. He seemed pleased.

Then I called Audrey who I knew would be in a tizzy. I told her that we had all new tickets, and they needed to just get there safely and we'd hang out until time to get on the ferry.

Sighs of relief all around. They did arrive, and we all tooled over about a block to the original location of East Bay Deli -- on East Bay Street -- for a snack.

Our table was huge and the light was more than a mere light

It was TG who wondered aloud as we walked towards East Bay Deli on East Bay Street, whether it was indeed the original location of the restaurant.

And he was correct, and as I found out a few minutes ago while researching it, the restaurant opened on September 11, 2001. Can you imagine?

At any rate we love East Bay Deli and we enjoyed some time there while noshing and relaxing before our Fort Sumter tour.

It was another sunny but chilly and windy day, and we shivered while waiting to board the ferry, but once aboard Audrey bought us some coffees and we sipped those while crossing Charleston Harbor to Fort Sumter.

Once at the fort, we could roam at will. I enjoyed looking through the small museum. I came back out into the sunshine to see that Dagny was engaged in helping lower and fold the flag that flies over the fort during daylight hours. 

Then there was a delightful visit to the gift shop. TG and I found t-shirts and I got a fridge magnet and also a gift for Rhett which I'm saving to give him on his fourth birthday in July.

Dagny and me on my sixty-eighth birthday

There was time for a few pictures before boarded the ferry for the trip back to the mainland.

After that, it was time to get the girls checked into their hotel, and to regroup in preparation for my birthday dinner.

There is a restuarant, a well-known tourist gathering place, in Charleston named Poogan's Porch. It's named after a long-dead dog.

We did not have my birthday dinner there. The reason being, it's right downtown, and would have been extra busy on a Friday night, and we'd already paid enough for parking for one day. In our case, two days.

So I chose an offshoot of Poogan's Porch called Poogan's Southern Kitchen, situated a fifteen-minute drive north in Summerville.

It was fabulous. We sat at a huge round table with an art-installation type light hanging above it. I had shrimp and grits and it was so delicious that I have dreamt of it almost every day since. 

My little girl and her little girl

I think I may ask TG to take me there again on our anniversary.

I'm not sure what everyone else ordered except I think that TG had Mee-Maw's Meatloaf and I know that Audrey had the chicken and waffles.

Then I opened my presents, and in due time we headed for our hotels and a nice rest.

The next day was Saturday and technically we were on our way home, but we had a few stops to make. First up was the Charleston Tea Garden or as some call it, the Charleston Tea Plantation.

It's the only place in North America where tea is grown and processed. The kind that ends up in tea bags in boxes labeled Bigelow, and eventually, if you are a tea drinker, in your cup.

Summer is tea-harvesting time so there was not much going on, but we took a short tour and then made our way around the large gift shop, where one is invited to sample all manner of cold and hot teas.

Then we sat on the wide front porch and had a snack before getting back into the cars and making our way to the last destination before home.

And that was to see the Angel Oak, the iconic Southern Live Oak that has stood for nearly four centuries on Johns Island.

Pretty cool if it's your cup of tea

It is the largest Live Oak east of the Mississippi.

We took pictures of one another, as one does at such a place, and marveled at the tree's branches, supported as they are by any number of boards and lifts and cables lest the tree topple from its own weight and age.

What a study in quiet longevity. I haven't been too quiet but I hope to achieve longevity. If I haven't already.

At the very least I hope to live long enough to tell you about another birthday.

When we returned home, TG went next door and retrieved my flowers. They were splendid and I enjoyed them for the next ten days.

Good thing I had them, because the next day I came down with what I first thought was a cold but which turned out to be a most unpleasant flu-like virus.

Dagny beneath the Angel Oak

So my flowers cheered the sickroom for the next several days, and of course I recovered and all is well.

But I had been sick with strep throat only a few weeks earlier, around Valentine's Day, and I was beginning to worry that it was a trend.

I'm no longer worried. I'm feeling great and we're getting ready to set out on another grand excursion.

About which I will tell you in due time.

And that is all for now.

=0=0=0=

Happy Monday

Ready, Set, March

I call him the ShamGnome on the shelf

And we are back.

January and February were chock-full of activities and experiences for us, and March is shaping up to be eventful too.

So I figure I should get you all caught up before this year melts away like the last one did.

Audrey brought the devotion at the first bridal shower

In addition to having about a tablespoonful of snowflakes hit the ground in January, we had wedding celebrations all month.

The actual nuptials took place on the last day of the month -- Friday, January 31st.

But we had bridal showers on the 11th, the 16th, and the 28th of the month.

There was an abundance of delicious food

The bride and groom and their families are all close and dear friends, so one of the showers was thrown by Audrey, Erica, and me.

But the first party was on January eleventh, and it was a proper big wedding shower with the gifts being for the setting-up of the couple's new home.

It was held at the home of our friend Debbie, who is a relative of the groom, and many ladies attended.

The lovely bride-to-be posed with her equally lovely mother

There was so much beautiful food and lots of excited chatter as is is to be expected when a bunch of girls get together.

Our Audrey was asked to bring a brief devotional message as the party got started.

Being a newlywed herself, she admitted that she had no advice to give on that score. But she did emphasize the necessity of gratitude being an essential component of any marriage.

I made these chicken salad sandwiches from a recipe that I wish you had

It was good. Anything having to do with gratitude is always worth hearing.

Several of us ladies were given scripture verses to read aloud from cards, which we all did before prayer and then the refreshments.

Later the bride-to-be opened her many presents and it was fun to see her delight at unearthing each new domestic treasure.

Our petit-fours were from the incomparable Tiffany's

Her second shower -- the one planned and given by my girls and me -- took place on the following Thursday. 

For our menu we had Lit'l Smokies in the crock pot with grape jelly and barbecue sauce, delectable homemade chicken salad sandwiches, Nancy's petite quiches hot from the oven, deviled eggs, cranberry-pistachio mini goat cheese balls (which I made and will never make again), orange fluff, petit-fours from Tiffany's, and a vanilla strawberry trifle made by our Erica.

Everyone gathered at Audrey's house, which had been lovingly prepared by Mike, Audrey, and Dagny, for everyone's comfort.

The petit-fours we served at our bath luxuries shower

Our party's theme was bath luxuries. The bride-to-be was showered with fragrance, lotions, bubbles, cosmetics, and beauty aids of all kinds. She will not have to buy soap for a long time. She was so happy and the event was a great success.

There was one more shower for her, but our next party was for TG's birthday.

We opted for a baked potato bar for our meal, and a Costco cheesecake with fresh strawberries for our dessert.

Erica's cream-and-fruit trifle is her specialty

The baked potatoes were the football-sized kind, and I baked them in the oven without foil jackets. They were rubbed with olive oil and studded with coarse Kosher salt, and they were perfection.

For toppings we had the usual butter, sour cream, shredded cheese, and real bacon. We also had chili and for a cold winter evening, it was a hearty and comforting meal.

TG had gone to the store for me and found beautiful strawberries, and lots of them, and they were heavenly spooned generously atop the plain but rich, creamy cheesecake.

There was pink and gold decor for the lingerie shower

For his gift, our children had bought their dad his own AirPods Pro. He needed them because he enjoys watching news shows and videos on his iPad at night, and I noticed he was having to turn the volume up to the point that it was too loud. For me.

Now he can pop in his AirPods and crank up the sound as loud as he likes without bothering anyone. It's a win all around.

A few days later was the final bridal shower, which was a smaller event and involved lingerie.

These baked potatoes were huge

Enough said except, it was a charming evening.

Then a mere three days later it was time for the wedding, held at a rural venue with a rustic chapel for the ceremony, and a capacious hall for the dinner reception.

Audrey, Erica, and I all served at the dinner. We arrived at the location in the early afternoon and were busy all the way up to time to change for the wedding, with preparations for serving the meal.

TG requested chili as a baked-potato topping

The dress code was black for all guests, which was no problem for us as we all have several black dresses. You might say that black is my dress code seventy-five percent of the time. Pirate!

The bride was gorgeous and everyone so happy, although towards the end of the evening there was torrential rain. We got home late and were pretty worn out, but the next day was Saturday which afforded time to rest.

Then it was February.

We had toppings galore for those potatoes

During the first week of the month, my sister, Kay, traveled to Cleveland to be with her youngest daughter, Joanna, for the birth of Joanna's fourth child. 

You may recall that TG and I visited Joanna and her husband, Jacob, in Cleveland last summer. We combined our visit with seeing our beloved Cubs play the Cleveland Guardians Indians at Progressive Field.

Joanna and Jacob have one son in heaven, and now three little sons around them.

You could have all the butter you wanted

They named their newborn son Arthur. Baby Arthur, born on 2/5/2025, is my sister and brother-in-law's 25th grandchild.

I sent Baby Arthur a soft and spacious blue blanket and wrote him a note so that he can get used to the idea of having a pirate for a great-aunt.

Speaking of boys born in February, the weekend before last we all went to Lenoir, North Carolina, for our grandson Andrew's birthday.

My January decor tends to be minimal

He turned thirteen on February twenty-second.

And here is that numbers thing again: Andrew was born on 2/22/2012, at 2:13 in the afternoon.

The dour lady doctor who delivered both Allissa in 2008 and Andrew four years later, never really took to me. I have no idea why.

But we did have the softly-lit bare-branch trees

But I didn't let that stop me from asking whether she could see her way clear to making Andrew's time of birth one minute earlier so that we could say he was born on 2/22/12 at 2:12 in the afternoon. A reasonable request, in my estimation.

She just shook her head no. Classic killjoy.

So on 2/22/2025, he turned thirteen and we were all on hand to celebrate.

The girls and I posed up just before things got busy

Stephanie had planned a meal of burgers and we also had hot dogs and chips and baked beans and coleslaw and all of the requisite condiments and trimmings, plus a big birthday cake.

The family moved into a new-to-them house last September, and none of us had seen it yet in person, so it was nice to admire their new place and share in their happiness at having more room and a bigger yard.

We attended their church the next day, where our son-in-law Joel is the pastor, and it was a great blessing.

TG and I managed an epic shot too

Before TG and I and the Chericas and Audag (Audrey and Dagny only; our Mike was in Thailand) got on the road and headed for home, Stephanie and her family treated us all to lunch at Dairi-O.

Now, if you are like me, you have never heard of Dairi-O. They are only to be found in North Carolina.

But if you are ever in North Carolina and are hungry and see a Dairi-O sign? Trust me: pull over and drive up and go inside and have a hamburger.

The happy newlyweds

Truly great. I can't say enough about how good it was. Just excellent. I hope you get to experience Dairi-O someday just as much as I hope I get to experience it again someday.

Then it was back home, and the following Friday (last day of February) I had Rhett and Elliot with me for much of the day as Erica had some business to attend to.

We had such a good time. Elliot was sitting up on the counter as I made them some lunch, and he availed himself of several cooking utensils that he found nearby.

Baby Arthur, cozy in the blanket I sent him

(He is seventeen months old and has just begun to walk. No, he's fine; he was just enjoying being carried around by his mother. And he apparently was really into crawling.)

The next day --  last Saturday -- Dagny came over in the afternoon and spent the night with us. She helped me to change my table and kitchen and front-door decorations from February hearts and red things to March shamrocks and green things.

And so here we are in the first week of the third month of the new year which is not so new anymore.

Me with six of my grands, unfortunately in shadow

It's my birthday week! On Thursday, TG and I are setting out for three days and two nights in Charleston.

The girls plus Dagny, Rhett, and Elliot will join us there on Friday and spend one night.

Our plan is to take the ferry to Fort Sumter, something which, despite having lived in South Carolina for twenty-three years, I have never done.

Elliot a/k/a Skippy was helping out in the kitchen

We've got some special eating-out places chosen too, and I promise to take pictures and tell you all about it next week.

We have two more important birthdays coming up in March: Audrey's and Andrew's (our son), which are one week apart. I'll have lots of news about those events too.

Until then, I hope you're doing well and I promise I'll be around to visit your blog -- if you have one. If you don't, I wish you did.

And that is all for now.

=0=0=0=

Happy Tuesday

Petal to the metal

Some would call it a minor miracle

Our son-in-law, Joel, who is the pastor of a fine church in Lenoir, North Carolina, received some tragic news on Monday afternoon.

His beloved father, David, pastor of a fine church in Williamsport, Pennsylvania, passed away suddenly and unexpectedly at home.

For Joel’s dad, like many pastors, since they work all day on Sunday, Monday is traditionally a day off. Joel had talked to his dad that morning, as he did most Monday mornings.

Joel’s mom, Debbie, after meeting her husband for a quick lunch at midday, had come home from work at around three to find her husband on the floor. He was gone. It had been sudden; probably a heart attack.

On Sunday evening — the night before his death — Pastor Bixler had preached in his pulpit. The title of his message was He’s My Friend.

Here is a link to that service. There is an interesting passage starting at about 13:30, where he talks about an experience he had this past week.

But if you don’t have time to watch that, at least listen to his brief closing prayer which begins at about 56:00.

That was likely the last public prayer he prayed, although I am reasonably sure that it was not the last prayer he offered to his Savior.

It’s astounding to listen to it, knowing that the next day he would be gone from our sight.

Joel and his mother and four siblings are devastated, as is our Stephanie and the other spouses, and the grandchildren.

TG and I learned of David’s passing shortly after Joel and Stephanie did on Monday afternoon, and it took a while to work through that shock, and because we had a packed day on Tuesday, it was Tuesday evening before we had a chance to talk about flowers.

As in, TG suggested that we ask Audrey and Erica and Andrew whether they wanted to contribute to a floral arrangement for their sister and brother-in-law's family.

I contacted Stephanie right away and asked her for the name of the best florist near her late father-in-law’s church in Williamsport.

(I’ve learned the hard way not to trust FTD or Teleflora or any other middle man when ordering flowers to be delivered out of town.

That’s because when my dear friend Mari’s father passed away in April of 2023, I ordered flowers which were never delivered, even though I was told that they had been delivered, and I had been charged for them.

We got it sorted out, but not before the time had passed that I wanted Mari and Bob to have and see and enjoy our flowers — i.e., at the viewing the night before the funeral. They were not delivered until the next day.

Save yourself the headache. Call a reputable florist in the area and give your order directly to them.)

(You probably already knew all of that but I am generally the last woman pirate in the Western Hemisphere to figure stuff out.)

On Wednesday morning I got a call from Henry — my mother’s husband for 37 years until her passing in 2020 — in which he expressed a desire to contribute to the fund for the flowers as well.

So it was that at around ten on Wednesday morning, with a couple of hundred dollars to spend, I called the florist that my daughter had recommended. 

The shop, Janet’s Floral, happens to be situated next door to the church where Joel's dad was the pastor for 34 years, and where the viewings and funeral would be held.

I had already gone online to the Janet’s Floral website and had viewed everything on offer, and had all but decided to order a large spray on an easel. But I had questions.

I explained to the lady who answered the phone that I was looking at their website and wished to inquire about a few of the designs featured there.

When I mentioned by name the one I liked the best, she immediately responded: We don’t have any glads.

(Gladiolus, being a tall stalk-type flower, were what gave this arrangement its gorgeous height and sweeping quality. Quite stunning.)

Disappointed, I began asking about a few other of the various designs on the website.

And was informed that they in fact had very few, if any, of the blooms that would be needed to complete any of those arrangements.

Joel's mother, Debbie, with her daughter Sheila

The nice lady, whose name was Jan — not Janet, she was quick to inform me, lest she be confused with the owner — patiently explained that it was Janet’s day off, and they try not to bother her on such days, and they would not know until the next day which or what quantity of flowers she had on order.

And we have three funerals, she said, lest I imagine that Pastor Bixler was the only person in Williamsport to have shuffled off the mortal coil this week.

Which was not what I thought. It is said, after all, that deaths come in threes.

We decided that I would think on what to do next, and call back.

Whereupon I called one of Janet's competitors perhaps a half mile away on the same road.

It was worse at the second florist. Looking directly at their website, I asked about two or three impressive sprays and was told that their shop could not possibly fulfill any of those orders.

The flowers necessary to create those particular arrangements were in short supply and/or were not available at all. 

If only I'd needed ferretsI was beginning to wonder if I had in error called the library or a dry cleaner or a pet store (We have no flowers, but we have ferrets!) and not, in fact, two separate florists.

Or if I should simply CashApp some money to Stephanie and tell her to go to the grocery store and pick out a bouquet.

Remembering all the while, the time that Audrey walked into Dunkin' Donuts in the middle of the day hoping to secure — wait for it — a donut, and was told that they did not in fact have any.

? ? ? ? ?

I mused aloud to the lady on the phone, something along the lines of, What do I have to do to purchase a flower arrangement for this funeral on Friday? 

What must I say, or spend, or do, or what connections do I need, or what spirits must I summon? What deals must I cut, what rivers must I cross, what dispensations must I obtain, to make that dream a reality? I wondered.

She mildly rebuked me for calling her on Wednesday morning, expecting her to have an arrangement delivered by three o’clock the next day.

There were schedules to be considered, she said. They too had three funerals this week. We will be working late tonight, she told me.

But people don’t die on schedule, I said. And you are a florist. (I mean, was it a front? Was there a bookie shop behind the baby's breath?) I hope I did not sound defensive but knowing me, I probably did. This is the first opportunity I have had to call and do this, I semi-whined, and now I’ve been working at it for well over an hour.

Neither her tone nor her mood improved upon receipt of that information.

We discussed one or two more options before she told me (without the vaguest hint of remorse) that she was certain that nothing she could do for me would be anything I would like.

I thanked her for her time and ended the call.

Desperate, and well into the second hour of my quest, I again called Janet’s Floral. Jan answered and remembered my name.

I wondered whether I could talk to the person who would actually be making the flower arrangement, if we could in fact determine that there were enough blooms in Williamsport, or Lycoming County, or North-Central Pennsylvania, to complete one.

And ended up speaking with a lovely person named Heidi. Explaining my dilemma, I waited for her to say that all would be well. Not to worry. But what she said was, You should have called me first.

But I DID call you first! I said.

But you didn’t talk to ME, she said. You talked to Jan. (NOT Janet, I thought.)

She had me there.

Getting back to the subject at hand, I asked whether we could abandon the idea of my ordering something that was pictured, and just sort of freelance with what she had available.

(All the while I am picturing a florist shop with nothing but a random daisy or carnation here and there, and leaves littering the floor. Empty flower buckets gaping moistly. The faint odor of lilies in the air.)

She said that she loved to do that type of thing, and so I chose an arrangement on the other florist’s website that I liked, and she pulled it up on her phone, and I wondered whether she could use that one as inspiration. As far as the colors and so forth.

Well, I don’t have lilies except for white, and I don’t have peach Gerber daisies but I do have some orange roses (not pumpkin orange, I hoped, and she said no, they were a paler shade), and beige carnations. And she mentioned using something that looks like a small black-eyed Susan as an accent flower.

Now we are getting somewhere, I thought. And it’s not quite noon on the East Coast yet!

I mentioned that I was going for a woodsy, outdoorsy, rather wild look, as David had been an avid hunter, and that I was partial to eucalyptus and curly willow rather than ferns, and we discussed it for about five more minutes and, Bob’s your uncle, we were ready to do business.

We got payment out of the way. I was told that there would be a twelve-dollar charge to deliver the flowers.

Mind you, Janet’s Floral is directly next door to the church where the viewings and funeral would be held. I didn’t expect them to walk the flowers over there, winter wind gusts being what they are, but by delivery van it would take perhaps five minutes from I'm leaving to I'm back.

No, said Heidi. We have to deliver them to the mortuary and the mortuary brings them to the church.

So, twelve dollars to put our flowers into a delivery van, drive right past the church where the flowers will end up, and take them to the mortuary where they will be put into another delivery van and brought back to the church.

Make it make sense.

But they had me over the proverbial barrel and in the spirit of in for a penny, in for a pound, I thanked Heidi and asked whether I could text her the copy and names for our card to accompany the flowers.

She said certainly, and recited her cell phone number, and promised to send me a photo of the easel once the arrangement was finished and ready to spend the night in the cooler.

And so I did my part, and Heidi did hers, and I was pleased, and the flowers made their circuitous route to the church yesterday, and were there in time for the family viewing at three o’clock and the public viewing at four.

And Stephanie was gracious enough to send us the photos in this post, so that we could see our flowers in the setting for which they were intended.

I forwarded those pictures to Heidi, and thanked her again for her excellent assistance, and she said that she would share the photos with Janet (not Jan!), who would be equally happy.

Joel at his dad's viewing, reading our card

Grief is brutal, and many tears are being shed by David’s loved ones, but flowers, being part of God’s nature, are a comfort.

As are the prayers and well wishes of those who care.

I know that Joel and Stephanie and Melanie and Allissa and Andrew and all of the others would appreciate your prayers today as they say their tender -- but temporary -- farewells to their dad and grandpa.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Friday :: Happy Weekend

What a bunch of snowflakes

It began with a mere dusting ... and escalated to a mere dusting

Hello my dears.

Yes I am still amongst the land of the living. We are currently digging out from under one scant inch of snow.

I will thank you not to sneer!

When you see a snowflake in real life approximately once every three years, it is noteworthy.

Rhett and me goofing off at Home Team BBQ

For the record, I am fond of neither cold nor snow.

Yes, I have lived in it, in fact for many years -- years and years on end -- in the past.

That's why I am not fond of it.

The real story here in Columbia, however, has been not the snow, but the cold. It's on the way out, I am glad to report. By the weekend and certainly into next week, we should have highs in the fifties again, with abundant sunshine.

We reminisced about our Melly on the eve of her twentieth birthday

That's more like it. 

Our pictures today reflect what we've been up to since the end of 2024.

Rizzo received a warm scarf as a Christmas gift. I made him pose on a chair wearing this piece of doggerdashery on Christmas Eve, and he has certainly needed his warm layer this week as he was forced to hike through snow in order to check his messages.

By the way, speaking of dogs and winter, and now that we are a quarter-century removed from it, do you remember the night of December 31, 1999? When a lot of people thought that Y2K would bring the world to a halt?

Her birthday presents were nestled amongst the Christmas stockings

I was tucked up in bed with my (now long-departed) Chihuahua Javier, who was still a puppy, on that night. We were watching TV and waiting with bated breath for everything to stop when the clock struck twelve.

And then it didn't. Everything kept on going, so we went to sleep, and here we are twenty-five years later!

May you live in interesting times, they say.

We had a lovely Christmas and I hope you did too. We didn't get to be with Andrew and Brittany this year, and our Stephanie's family were in Pennsylvania with her in-laws for the holiday as usual, but it was still special and meaningful.

The Moravian stars are everywhere in and around Winston-Salem

(I don't generally like looking back but I have some catching up to do, so I will share with you in the coming days some of the highlights of our Thanksgiving and Christmas.)

We were able to be with Stephanie and her brood just before Christmas, because as we do every year, they came to stay for a day or two so that we could celebrate our Melanie's twentieth birthday.

That party took place at Erica's house, where we ate and hung out for several hours.

I had made my standard Spicy Cranberry Meatballs plus Party Potatoes, baked macaroni and cheese, and I honestly do not remember what all else, except I am positive that Christmasy desserts were involved.

Rizzo made good use of his new scarf during the recent blizzard

After our festive meal, we repaired to Cherica's front room, where we reminisced about Melanie's birth and all that she means to us.

She opened her birthday gifts, after which we moved into the Chericas' "new" room which Chad built onto their house recently, where the Christmas tree was, and opened all of our presents to and from Stephanie's family.

We had our Christmas with the Maudags (Mike, Audrey, Dagny) and the Chericas (Chad, Erica, Rhett, Elliot) on Christmas Day, at our house. It was momentous! As promised, I shall reveal all in the coming days.

Me with Ember, who is five, and her little brother Guy, 17 months

On the first Saturday of the new year, we all went to a place called Home Team BBQ. It's in downtown Columbia.

Greg and Chad had played team golf in a tournament last fall, and had won, and their prizes consisted of fifty-dollar gift cards to Home Team BBQ.

I sat next to Rhett and we were yukking it up before our food arrived at the table.

This restaurant (a glorified sports bar now) used to be an establishment called Harper's. Harper's was far and away my favorite place to eat out in Columbia for many years, going back to 2002 when we first moved here.

Our Rhett-man during the Christmas season

It had floor-to-ceiling plate glass windows and huge gaslight lanterns set into exposed brick. I loved the ambiance and the food was good too.

But alas several years ago Harper's upped sticks and in fact no longer exists, and the building has been repurposed as Home Team BBQ. We decided to try it out and it was in fact very good.

As a matter of fact, it was so good that TG and I went back for supper there last night, since we were stir crazy from all the cold and ice and -- ahem -- avalanche of snow we've been living with and which has kept us more or less housebound for three days.

It was our second snow event of the new year, the first one taking place on the weekend of January 11th.

Sibi (short for Sibyl Ann) is a furry rascal

Except in that instance, in fact if we looked at our weather app, all day it told us that it WAS snowing. But when we looked out the window, we could plainly see that it was NOT snowing.

It never snowed -- at least not on our house. But Mike and Audrey braved the elements to make the trip to Spartanburg on the Friday to meet Andrew and Brittany, who wanted a couples weekend in Asheville, and had asked Maudrey to get Ember and Guy and bring them back to Columbia until late on Sunday.

On the next day, a Saturday, we girls attended a lovely bridal shower (more on that later), and then hung out for the rest of the day at Erica's house, enjoying the company of Ember and Guy.

So it was that I was able to have Erica take a few pictures of me with those two darlings and also with all five of our eight grands, who were with us at church on that Sunday.

Elliot a/k/a Skippy found locks and cold climes in Winston-Salem

We don't get a great deal of time with Ember and Guy, so that was special.

This past weekend, the Chericas decamped to Winston-Salem, North Carolina, where they had booked an Airbnb house and spent three days seeing Moravian country and going on several hikes.

They saw lots of snow and severely cold temperatures, but they love being outdoors and by all accounts, everyone enjoyed it immensely.

I babysat my granddog Sibi from Thursday night until Monday late afternoon for them, and it was quite something sitting in my chair for coffee every morning, with Rizzo, Sweetness, AND Sibi occupying the space with me.

Give us an inch and we'll talk about it for miles

Rizzo is generally playful with and occasionally jealous of Sibi, who is a five-pound ball of insane energy. Sweetness, my tuxedo cat, was merely curious, as she tends to be with all dogs. But the three of them sitting together led to a few tense moments.

All of them wanted my hands petting them the entire time. And I needed one hand to hold my coffee. I did my best to keep everyone happy.

But Sibi went home this past Monday afternoon, and we got back to normal well before the freezing weather and snow arrived on Tuesday night.

There were flurries while it was still light outside, but the flakes began falling in earnest at around six o'clock. It continued for three or four hours before tapering off.

Dagny Clare made the most of her snow day

Audrey reported that Dagny spent all day out in the cold and accumulated snow on Wednesday. She found some neighborhood kids and all together they figured out a way to slide around on homemade sleds.

The last place I want to be at such a time is outdoors so I just enjoy the pictures.

Meanwhile there is another wedding coming up in a week or so, of good friends, so we girls have been making the rounds of the bride-to-be's showers, and even threw one for her ourselves, at Audrey's house.

Next week I'll show you pictures of all the goodies I made for that event. I think there is a good chance that you may be impressed.

Me with five of my precious eight grandbabies

I've been derelict in visiting all of you, so you have my solemn promise that I'll be dropping in to see you all today, because I never fail to wonder what everyone is up to.

Some of you are up to your necks in snow -- that much I know. So I can't wait to see your pictures and read about your wintry adventures.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Friday :: Happy Weekend