A Tale of Two Seths

Occasionally, wires get crossed.

I'm slammed with last-minute wedding preparations but I felt I just had to dash by and tell you about something that happened yesterday.

Of course when one wakes up on Monday of wedding week, one's brain is instantly flooded with all the myriad and varied things that must still be accomplished before the day.

It's mostly all small stuff. But still.

As I was having my coffee, I was reminded that I had not yet reached out to Seth.

Seth is a longtime member of our church who is almost always in the sound booth during services.

When Erica got married I trusted Seth with everything to do with lighting and sound before and during the ceremony.

He is a prince of a man but to be honest, I almost never see him on Sunday except, he sings in the choir and I'll see him up there, but after that it's not likely that I will run into him.

A few weeks ago I spotted Seth in the sound booth up in the balcony just when the service concluded, and I quickly made my way up there (it's a long way). When I arrived, Seth had evaporated.

But I knew that I could always send Seth a text, because I had done that very thing last June when we celebrated our forty-fifth wedding anniversary.

(I'd sent him a picture of us on our wedding day, which was displayed with other salient information of interest to church members, on the screens at the front of our sanctuary.)

I was cheerful and upbeat.

So after I'd finished my coffee yesterday morning, I picked up my phone, located Seth in my contacts, and composed a text.

I apologized for being so late reaching out but I wondered if he would be on hand to manage the sound booth for our rehearsal on Thursday night (except, I wrote Friday night, which was wrong), and join us at the rehearsal dinner afterwards.

I explained that I was mortified at the oversight of not formally inviting him and his wife to the rehearsal dinner (because we did send custom invitations for that event), but I hoped he/they would be able to join us anyway.

I waited a few minutes and then came Seth's reply.

He said that he'd be gone this weekend. But he wanted to know what the event was for.

I replied, Audrey's wedding, and reminded him that he had told Audrey recently that his family would definitely be attending (they had not sent back their reply card so she asked him in person).

And then Seth told me that I had him mixed up with another Seth.

? ? ? ? ?

He identified himself as the contractor who did our bathroom.

? ? ? ? ?

First of all, we have had two bath remodels in recent years: the guest bath completed in December of 2021, and the master bath completed in April of 2023.

Our contractor for the first one was named Michael -- he's an old friend of TG's -- and he worked alone.

And then I was appropriately penitent.

Our contractor for the second one was named Art, and he did have helpers but not a one of them spoke English so I know there was not a Seth among them.

We have no more baths to remodel.

TG came into the room as I was digesting all of this and I asked him if he remembered a contractor named Seth who had worked in our house in recent years.

He looked at the ceiling but when he did not see the answer there (to be fair he did intone Seth. Seth. Seth. several times while glancing heavenward), and said no, that he remembered no contractor named Seth.

Well anyway I wrote to Contractor Seth and said oh dear, I meant to contact Seth at church who does our sound, and I thought he was the only Seth in my contacts! I just saw the name Seth and forged ahead.

He said, no worries lol.

I elaborated that my daughter was getting married on Friday so I was addlepated. I wished him a good week.

He did not respond to that and I imagine there was an eyeroll involved in there somewhere.

For which I cannot blame him.

THEN I had to ask TG for the contact info for Church Seth, which was for some reason NOT in my contacts although I texted with him only a few months ago.

All was made right in the end.

(It's obvious to me now, after having had more than twenty-four hours to reflect on my faux pas, that I failed to ADD Church Seth to my contacts when I texted with him in June.)

So my phone dinged and TG had shared the contact and I texted the proper Seth asking him to help us out on Thursday and join us for supper afterwards.

My request was longish because I tend to use one hundred-fifty words when ten would do (I'll thank you not to snicker), but Seth's reply (unlike my request) was to the point:

Yes, I can be there for that. What time?

Sighs of relief were breathed by moi as I hastily assured him that he is my hero (I'm sure he was looking for that validation on a Monday morning) and that we needed him at six o'clock on Thursday and of course he was welcome to bring his wife to the dinner.

He responded with a thumbs-up but said he wouldn't be able to stay for dinner.

I thanked him again profusely and that was that.

Can you believe? I had to go to the church yesterday to do some stuff and I told someone that story and she laughed so hard, I realized it was even funnier than I thought.

So I figured I'd share it with you before things get too hairy around here and you think I've forgotten all about you.

We're not just going around in circles.

Time now to go and finish up a bunch of little stuff and continue moving forward to our special event. Both Thursday and Friday will be all-day events in and of themselves, what with the decorating that must be done.

But we have lots of help and it will be exhilarating to see it all come together.

Everyone is excited. I will share much wedding news next week. Keep your powder dry.

And that is all for now except to say, God Bless America.

UPDATE: While doing something else after setting this post to go live at a certain time, I remembered who Contractor Seth is. Last January he gave us a bid on redoing our TV room flooring. We went with another contractor but I remember Contractor Seth as a jovial fellow so I'm sure there's no harm done.

As you were! xoxo

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Happy Tuesday

Crunch time

You and me, babe

Y'all I'm just cruising by in my dinghy to say I'm still alive.

I have neglected you and I'm acutely aware of it.

There have been parties and celebrations and events and in and among all of that, I have been doing wedding preparation things.

But I do want to bring you up to speed.

Audrey's wedding day is two weeks from Friday so forgive me if I ramble. I am a preoccupied pirate.

Let's work backwards from Monday, because nothing much happened yesterday except that Audrey came over and we took a walk.

I early voted for the first time in my life -- wait; no. I voted absentee once about ten years ago, but I do not remember why. I only know that it was necessary.

There were luscious treats at the bridal shower

With that one exception, and the exception of two days ago, I have always cast my ballot in person, at the polling place, on election day.

I like doing it that way.

But this time, election day is Tuesday of wedding week, and just to save some time, I voted on the first early voting day.

I'm going to be honest here: I don't understand early voting. It doesn't make sense to me; there's a day for voting and that's the way it was done for a very long time, and I don't understand how or why it changed.

So I doubt I'll ever do it again, but this time, I did.

And I waited in line for forty minutes, which is about thirty minutes longer than I have ever waited in line for all the other times I have voted in South Carolina.

Put together.

Rizzo flakes out in the foyer while I work on decorations

And it was majorly sunny, no cloud cover at all, and hot -- although with low humidity -- and I had to stand in direct sun for at least half of that time.

But I consider it a privilege to vote, so I did not complain. When I turned in my ballot to be recorded and got my sticker, the lady told me that I was the eight-hundredth person to vote that day, at that location.

It was then two-thirty in the afternoon, and the line was still a forty-minute-wait long.

But I had other fish to fry, as on Monday evening we met with Mike and Audrey to take some last-minute pictures that I need for the wedding.

After that, we went to get some supper and it was a pleasant time.

Last Thursday evening, we attended Audrey's wedding shower given by the ladies of our church.

One of our charming young women has the job of planning the showers, and she came to me several weeks ago for a word of guidance about what should define Audrey's event.

I found the ringbearer's pillow and flower girl basket

I said: Paris.

That's because our wedding and reception has a Parisian/Marie Antoinette theme -- so much so that if we keep on going, I may have to rent a guillotine -- and because Audrey and Mike are returning to Paris for their honeymoon (they were there this past May).

(That's not the ony place they are going on their honeymoon, but I'll tell you the rest later.)

And M, the young lady who undertook to plan and decorate for the shower as she does for all of the showers (we've had a good many brides in our church this year), did such a beautiful job.

She had a twinkling Eiffel Tower at the table where Audrey and I and Erica and Dagny and a few other friends sat, together with Miss Ann, our beloved pastor's wife, who brought the devotional.

There was a black-and-white stripe motif too, and the gorgeous cake was emblazoned with Bonjour, Mrs. E____!, and there were macarons and other pastry-like treats, and a groaning buffet table of delicious food.

And the shower was well attended by many friends, and Audrey received numbers of beautiful and generous gifts, and she and Mike are nothing if not grateful.

Cardboard birdcage for treats at the personal shower

A week before that, we had yet another shower for the bride.

This was a personal shower, given by me and the bridesmaids (who are Audrey's sisters Stephanie and Erica, her niece Allissa, and her daughter Dagny).

There were only a few gifts but they were nice gifts and Audrey appreciated them.

I had planned the party around a theme of Marie Antoinette. From Etsy I'd bought some lavish ribbon-bedecked Marie Antoinette gift-tag type things, just because they were so pretty.

Everybody got one and the bride got two.

I'd bought a cardboard birdcage thing from Efavormart, and on its shelves I displayed several varieties of sweets for our dessert. I was going for decadent and they looked sort of Walmart (which they were, because I ran out of time), but we're semi-redneck bougie so what of it.

There were also some pretty doilies that were purchased to comprise part of the bridesmaids' gifts, but we used them at the party.

Everything but the guillotine

We held the shower at Cracker Barrel -- I know, I know, mucho lame-o -- but that was because it's relatively easy for our Stephanie to meet us there.

TG and I and Audrey and Erica and Dagny drove ninety minutes, and Stephanie, Melanie, and Allissa drove about the same amount of time, to meet there.

This is the same restaurant where we have met for several times each year, for many years, for my Tar Heel grandchildren's birthday parties and, on occasion, other birthday parties too, such as Dagny's.

Only, when we arrived, right away we realized that it is not the same restaurant.

The first clue was several PODS sitting in parking spots along the side of the Cracker Barrel.

Then we noticed that the front doors were completely different (said front doors being the only different thing that I liked). And that upon entering the general store part of the establishment, there was tons more light, and what seemed like acres more floor space between the overwrought displays.

Eventually we figured out that all of the tables and seating in the restaurant were new and different, and the entire interior design had been altered, and there was drastically lurid lighting.

Our beloved Miss Ann spoke at the bridal shower

Horrible, too-bright, garish lighting. Fake wood tables and chairs. No more cozy lanterns on each table.

I hated it.

In fact I cannot think of enough words to tell you how much I hated it, except to say that I will never step foot in that restaurant again.

It ruined my party. I needed the cozy, darkish, familiar confines of Cracker Barrel the way it's supposed to be. I had brought candles and special touches, and everything looked dumb and fake in the blinding light.

Plus, it was horribly loud in there. Awful. Awful. Awful. Whoever decided that this was the way to go in remodeling that American icon, should be summarily fired.

Just my opinion, but may I remind you that I'm entitled to it.

We'll find another place for the birthday parties -- the Charlotte area has lots of restaurants -- and remember "our" Cracker Barrel the way it used to be.

I've used well over 3000 pins in the decorations

Now it only remains to be seen whether they remodel all of the Cracker Barrels in the same hideous vein. Let's hope not.

Meanwhile, I do realize that the information I just divulged is not going to be earth-shattering to very many people.

But I hate change and we have had enough change and we need more of things staying the same.

Some things.

Anyway. That was almost two weeks ago and it almost brings us up to date.

Many days I have sat in the front room, at a table TG set up for me there where the light is good and I can be comfortable, making things for the wedding.

You'll see them all in due time. Rizzo wants to be near me, so I plopped his soft mat down in the foyer where he could flake out while I worked.

The gang -- except for TG and Melly -- at the personal shower

The girls and I were in a minor tizzy about where I'd stashed the ringbearer pillow and flower girl basket from Erica's wedding six-plus years ago, which I needed to find so that we can use them in Audrey's wedding.

I had to clear off a shelf of the guest room closet, but I found them. Along with fake pink rose petals. So we're all set for Ember and Rhett to be their cutest and most useful on the day.

I also found all of the tulle I used in Erica's wedding -- untold yards and reams of it -- to decorate the pews and front of the church, and I've reworked all of that for Audrey's wedding.

Anyone need thirty really nice pew decorations? Because after November eighth, if you want these, they are yours.

Of course I'll show you pictures of them in a few weeks.

I spent several hours last Friday in the empty church auditorium, measuring and planning my designs.

The wedding shower decor was charming

We are closing in on things, having a few last-minute issues to deal with, but everything is going smoothly as of now.

Audrey has sold her house; in fact her closing was held yesterday afternoon. She didn't have to put the house on the market.

Someone we know approached her a few months ago and said I want it, and she said Let's make a deal, and they did, and yesterday the papers were signed and money exchanged hands.

I guess that means she's renting from the new owner for a few weeks but I don't know all of the details.

She is relieved that that's done.

We're having exquisite weather. Chilly at night, sunny and warm during the day. A tad bit too warm for my liking this time of year -- highs of eighty and above -- but again I won't complain.

A few more weeks and we're off to Paris

Our winter will come but it will be mild and short.

I don't think I have forgotten anything but if you think I have, do speak up.

Also, what is going on with you? Tell me in the comments.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Tuesday

When a son is one

Wait just one minute

Guess what. We had another birthday party since I saw you last.

Not another birthday party! You may be thinking. But yes.

We had a rollicking good time

(When the immediate family tots up to eighteen in number and we have birthdays in every month except November, it's inevitable and those parties aren't going to throw themselves.)

This time it was for our Baby Elliot a/k/a Skippy, who turned one year old the Saturday before last.

We celebrated our Skippy on his first birthday

At one month younger than Baby Guy, Skippy is the youngest of our eight grandchildren.

(BTW his parents do not call him Skippy. Mostly that's me, Audrey, and Dagny. But Cherica have not issued a cease and desist order, so we keep doing it. If you knew Elliot, you'd know how much Skippy suits him.)

His adoring mama made his cake at home

His party was held on his actual birthday, at Cherica's place. 

Due to that being the weekend when Hurricane Helene caused significant damage and power outages in our area, Erica was obliged to revamp her menu.

Erica saw to all of the details for her baby's party

That was because so many stores were closed due to having no power, and she had a grocery order in at one of them but the store was unable to fulfill it.

The power at Cherica's house had been restored the night before though, and she had frozen pizzas to heat up, and I made macaroni and cheese and we had chips and popcorn and a homemade cake, and it was enough.

The party's theme was the color blue

The theme that his mother had chosen for Elliot's party was the color blue.

We all wore blue and there were blue snacks and blue balloons and paper lanterns, and other decorations.

I did not know that Jello made candy

The cake was chocolate (white on the inside and ever so delectably moist), so Erica stenciled a one on top, with blue sanding sugar.

She then popped a cursive-written one into the cake.

Naturally there was a gift table

Elliot's single candle was in his smash cake, which was actually a cupcake.

He is a foodie and a chow hound, and after he'd devoured his lunch, his eyes got big and round when he saw his mother bringing that cupcake in his direction.

Skippy be like whaaaaat

We sang to him and blew out the candle and took the paper off the cupcake, and he went to town on it.

Later we had his present-opening time and that was a big success too.

Knoppers are bussin'

TG and I got him a pounding bench and if a video that Erica sent me last week is any indication, he's partial to it. He just takes the hammer and pounds away and then turns it over himself, to pound the shapes down again from the other side.

We love classic toys.

Dreams do come true

He got a Push 'n' Pop Bulldozer from his Aunt Stephanie, and an oversized dimple fidget toy from his Aunt Audrey, and some outfits, and many other things that he seems to be enjoying.

We're having another big party this coming Friday, and I'll tell you all about that next week.

I think I'm in love

It's not for a birthday; it's to do with our Audrey's wedding which will take place four weeks hence.

I am in the thick of preparations for that, as you might imagine. All of our decorations, both for the church and the reception, are homemade.

Not bad for store-bought

Or shall I say Pirate-made.

Speaking of the wedding, several days ago we had an event/activity having to do with that occasion, and it turned out to be so special that it was rather over the top.

This is a bit of all right

I wish I could tell you all about it but I cannot because it wouldn't be fun to do that without being able to show you pictures.

And yes, there are pictures, but the reason I can't show them to you is because they involve the bride-to-be wearing her wedding dress.

Can I have two of these next year?

Naturally only a few people can see that before the wedding day, and we cannot put it online because Mike might peek.

But after the wedding, I promise I'll tell you the story, with pictures, and I promise that it will warm the cockles of your heart.

All set to open my presents now

Whatever those are.

One last bit of news is that our Rizzo, my cherished nine-year-old rescue Chiweenie (chihuahua-dachshund mix), spent yesterday at the vet.

Working on my hand-eye coordination

He needed some dental work. Many hours and several hundred dollars later, I retrieved my dog, who could walk but was still woozy from sedation.

Dr. Chambers had been obliged to pull several of the Rizz Man's teeth, and I guess I'm going to have to start brushing my dog's choppers lest he lose the rest of them.

A guy can always use one of these

I'm trying to imagine Rizzo allowing me to brush his teeth. Not coming up with anything.

I've been promised by the veterinarian that when I take Rizzo back in ten days for a checkup on his dental treatment, I'll be given a tutorial on dog teeth brushing. And they'll likely try to sell me something too.

Ah well. He's my beloved canine unit and it's all right.

Rizzo

In closing let me say that our prayers are one hundred percent with the residents of the State of Florida, who are in peril at the present moment and possibly for many days and weeks to come.

May God bless and help them, and may He bless and preserve our nation, and deliver her from enemies both foreign and domestic.

Especially domestic.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Thursday

Points north

My three girls with me at church on September first

Let's start at the end and back up.

Well, not technically the end but by that I mean, the present. Sort of.

And that would be, Hurricane Helene and its ever-unfolding aftermath.

I am grateful and humbled to report that we had no damage to our property.

Our power went out during the wee hours of Friday morning but was back on by ten o'clock that same morning.

Our internet service disappeared shortly after that and was MIA for the rest of that day and into the night.

When TG and I went out on Friday to do some grocery shopping, we were shocked to learn of the extent of damage -- mostly downed trees and power lines -- in the neighborhoods surrounding ours.

Old haunts: site of Comiskey Park, where TG and I had our first date

Our major retail outlets such as Costco and Walmart were closed due to no power.

So many friends and family members throughout South Carolina have reported power outages, even remaining until today.

Audrey's and Erica's and Mike's households lost power too but it was restored on Friday evening, so they got off easy, much as we did.

It's devastating to see the pictures and video footage of western North Carolina, where our Stephanie lives.

Her family escaped any significant damage to property too, although their church was without power all day on Sunday.

For us it was the promise of a rainy day on last Thursday. I like rainy days so I switched around some plans to run errands to the next day, so that I could remain at home and enjoy it.

The forecast was for an extremely stormy night following that pleasantly rainy day.

We rode the CTA to Clark and Addison

As said rainy day progressed, I consulted the weather app on my phone and noticed that the prediction of a wild and stormy night had been removed, replaced with promises of calm and partial clearing.

Oh, I said. I don't know how they consistently get it so wrong. Oh wait. They're meteorologists! That's how.

(It's one of the few jobs where you can be ninety percent wrong one hundred percent of the time and still get paid.)

Anyway then I received a text from my dear friend Sara up in Virginia.

She said she was praying for us because she'd read that Columbia was going to get ninety-mile-an-hour winds during that night.

Whaaaaaat? I thought. Wait. 

So I consulted my weather app again, and saw that it had once again been amended to reflect a wild and stormy night in Columbia.

On Labor Day we celebrated our Stephanie's birthday

I texted back and said I thought it was more hype than anything else for our area, but that we would see what transpired.

Still, I was grateful for my friend checking up on us. I thought that was special. And she wasn't the only one.

At any rate the thrashing winds and heavy rain did come during the night on Thursday. Residents in and around Columbia sustained a great deal of damage and the power outages were outrageous.

But we found a Walmart that was open on Friday, and we dodged cars in many an intersection devoid of functioning traffic lights, to shop there.

If I hadn't had TG to do the driving, I would not have been able to manage that.

Learning of the devastation north of us, in North Carolina, was shocking and disheartening. I cannot imagine what those people are going through. God please help.

I have no pictures of destruction to show you in my neck of the woods, because I didn't take any.

Crustless quiche! So light and yet filling.

However, I can report that on Labor Day, we had a birthday party for our Stephanie. I made her cake from scratch.

Steph and Melly came on the Sunday before Labor Day and went to church with us that night.

I made all of my girls pose for pictures with me, except for Melanie who was disinclined to acquiesce to my request.

Melanie, who will turn twenty in December, is disabled. She does not take kindly to standing, sitting, or even being next to anyone but her mother and father.

No way will she stand for a group photo, hahaha!

Ahhh Melly. Do your thing, Melly. We love you anyway. In fact we love you more.

And I can show you a crustless quiche I made a few weeks later, in fact early in the week of the storm. Why crustless? Fewer calories. Low carb. And just as delicious.

Talk about filling ... a late lunch at Eleven City Diner

Mine had, in addition to eggs and heavy cream, spinach, ham, and Swiss cheese. You just layer your ingredients in a buttered baking dish and pour the seasoned egg-and-cream mixture over the top.

About a week before I had that idea of making crustless quiche, TG and I pointed our car north and ended up in Chicago. The entire trip took four days, but only two of those days (and nights) were spent in the Windy City.

The other two were spent going halfway and then stopping for the night.

Our Cubbies' summer is over now -- no October baseball for them -- but we took in two late-season games at Wrigley Field.

It was hotter in Chicago while we were there, than it was back here at home. But the evenings were lovely and it was cool and comfortable within the Friendly Confines, the oldest ballpark in the National League.

The Cubs won the first of the two games we saw, and lost the second one. A wash. But still thrilling, just to be there.

I was prepared with my W flag (at Wrigley the song Go Cubs Go is sung after a win, and many fans "fly the W" which is a white flag with a big blue W emblazoned upon it. I sang (yes I know all the words) and held my flag aloft and it was exhilarating.

Interfere with play and you'll have to go into hiding

The second night, my flag stayed in my clear purse and that was too bad but we still had a great time.

On the second day of our visit we visited another old haunt: Eleven City Diner.

I love this place. We rode the CTA several stops from our hotel and walked the rest of the way and enjoyed a scrumptious afternoon lunch.

Then we rode the train again back to our hotel and rested for a bit before that night's game.

The next morning we left our hotel right on time and promptly became ensnared in a backup on the Dan Ryan Expressway.

And not just any backup. A tractor-trailer had overturned in the road and there was a diesel spill. Eventually TG expertly exited and we drove many miles through South Chicago neighborhoods until we could get back on the Interstate at a point past the wreck.

Several more slowdowns and total stops plagued us that day and it was nine thirty before we reached our hotel in Richmond, Kentucky.

We felt welcome in the Friendly Confines

We were deflated and so tired and hungry but we got some food and ate and then went to sleep and all was well.

The next day we got started a little later than perhaps we would have if we'd not had the hard day of travel on the day before, but we made it home by five o'clock in the afternoon.

Audrey and Dagny had stayed at our house while we were gone, to look after my pets, and we were glad to see them.

We had shopped for souvenirs for everyone while in Chicago, but prices of such luxuries have skyrocketed, so we did not buy anything Cubs-related.

I bought three of these

Instead, at a big truck stop in Indiana, I got myself and Audrey and Erica each one of these Indiana Hoosier State mugs.

Something interesting about me and my children is that all five of us were born in Indiana.

I was born in Kokomo. Not because we lived there to live there -- both my parents and all of their people were from Louisiana -- but because my dad was a pilot in the USAF and was stationed there.

My children were all born in Northwest Indiana -- the Chicagoland area -- because for the first twelve years of our marriage, after our wedding in Atlanta, that is where TG and I lived.

Where did September go?

And no one needs another coffee mug, least of all me or my girls, but a new one is always fun to have and the girls loved them. I got fridge magnets too, for my born-state of Indiana and TG's born-and-raised state of Ohio.

We're so totally middle-America. I love it. Wouldn't have it any other way.

At any rate here we are back at home and since we've been home, in addition to historic Hurricane Helene, we have had yet another birthday party.

I'll tell you all about it later in the week.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Tuesday :: Happy October

Having a One-derful time

TG and me with five of the eight

A few weeks ago, our grandson Guy turned one year old.

We all went to Knoxville for his birthday party, which was held at the home of Brittany's dad, Scott, and stepmom, Karen.

Their house is beautiful and they were so gracious. There was a mountain of fabulous grilled meat, including chicken and ribs. And there were cowboy beans and mac and cheese and other succulent delights.

There were loads of balloons

Baby Guy began walking several weeks ago and was toddling all over the place.

Ember, who will turn five in December, is an even bigger big sister than she used to be.

Since Andrew is a pilot, the theme was aviation. Brittany had thought of everything. In the foyer, she had custom-made cookies arranged atop an old suitcase. 

Passenger Guy, Destination One Year

There were clever touches such as a wheeled cart containing an assortment of single-serving chip bags, with a sign reading In-Flight Snacks.

On the kitchen island was another sign designating the area as the Fueling Station. Adorable.

Many of Brittany's family members were there, and it was good to see all of them again.

Ember was caught up in the spirit of things

TG and I traveled to Knoxville the day before, arriving around dinnertime, and enjoyed a pleasant evening meal and a restful night of sleep.

At our age, approaching big events slowly and deliberately has become paramount. Nothing sudden. IYKYK.

The others -- the Chericas (Chad, Erica, Rhett, and Elliot a/k/a Skippy) and Maudag (Mike, Audrey, and Dagny) -- got up early on Saturday morning and made the four-hour trip in time for the party's one o'clock start.

There were in-flight snacks

After lunch, Andrew and Brittany presented Guy with his smash cake. There was a single candle on top and at first it startled him and there were a few tears.

But the candle was blown out and then removed, and Guy extended a curious hand and extracted a hunk of cake and frosting, and tasted it, and quickly got into the spirit of the occasion.

Cupcakes were provided for everyone else and it was such a good time.

Guy was wished a happy birthday in such cute ways

Then the party repaired out to the patio where Andrew assembled all of Guy's birthday presents and everyone was chatting and visiting.

A kiddie pool and some water toys kept the smaller children busy for a good while.

Our handsome Andrew is a proud and loving dad

Towards the end of Baby Guy's birthday party, after Audrey and I had folded all of the gift bags that we could, and smoothed all the tissue paper that was salvageable, something about which I am obsessive at every party, I insisted on getting some pictures of me and TG with the five of our grandchildren who were there.

The mini-shoot resulted in some great pictures and I'm so glad that we did that.

Well hey little feller

Later, TG and I plus Maudag, who were staying at the same hotel as us, returned there so that Mike could check himself into his room and Audrey and Dagny into theirs.

Andrew joined us with Guy and Ember, and we got coffee and all sat in the hotel lobby for a few hours, talking and visiting some more.

Brittany had thought of everything

Brittany went home as she had some school assignments that needed her attention, and she welcomed the hours of silence.

After a quiet evening and another good night's sleep, all of us from Columbia got up, got ready for church, packed up, checked out of our rooms, and went to Sunday morning service at Temple Baptist Church, where TG and I and our children were members for several years in the '90s.

Guy was fascinated by this balloon display

We saw many old friends and even a few family members there, and it was a great service with beautiful music and excellent preaching, and we enjoyed it.

After that the children were cranky with fatigue and hunger, so we all descended on Cheddar's Scratch Kitchen for lunch.

There was a brief wait to be seated but once we were, the food was delicious. Everyone got full. Then it was time to head home.

There were a few tears as the candle was extinguished

Before the trip got really good and underway, we all stopped at the new Bucc-ee's Sevierville location, to change clothes and get cold drinks and prepare for the drive.

The trip through the Smoky Mountains was uneventful and we reached home around eight o'clock that evening.

Speaking of the Smokies (sort of), a day or so before we left for Knoxville, my dear friend Marsha had a birthday.

This cake is really quite good

She was recovering from surgery and was off work for several weeks, so one day when she was feeling stronger, we had her over to have a proper celebration.

Audrey and Dagny came too because they also love Marsha.

We had refreshments -- I'd made chicken salad -- and after that, we had some gifts for Marsha. She said she had a good time and wished us well on our trip to Tennessee.

Before our trip, we celebrated our friend Marsha

Marsha loves Tennessee, loves the Smokies, and would like to live there after she retires. She goes to Pigeon Forge on vacation every year and really gets into the whole vibe. 

That's why for one of her gifts, I gave her a throw pillow with the white tri-star design of the Tennessee state flag, only set in orange, because like my own Andrew, she is a huge Vols football fan.

(The Volunteers are the teams of the University of Tennessee. Go Big Orange.)

Go Vols ... Go Big Orange

But back to our Knoxville trip, what a blessing to be with Andrew, Brittany, Ember, and Guy for our grandson's first birthday.

Fun Fact: Guy was born forty-five years to the day from TG's and my first date.

That's right! Our first date was on Thursday, August 24, 1978. Guy was born on Thursday, August 24, 2023.

Guy was ready for some pool splashing

On that warm night in Chicago, on an ordinary Thursday, on a first date, I couldn't possibly have imagined that forty-five years in the future to the very day, our third grandson would be born.

On that night in the summer of 1978, TG took me to old Comiskey Park on the south side of Chicago, for a major league baseball game between the Chicago White Sox and the Kansas City Royals.

But there were many presents to open

I still have the shirt that TG wore that night. He looked so handsome in it. 

(It wasn't official Cub fan gear; we weren't Cub fans then. That happened later for TG and much later for me.)

I had never been to a professional sporting event of any kind before that night.

We gave him this pilot hat and a book about planes

TG was not particularly a White Sox fan either, but he loved baseball and attending the game made sense to him for a first date.

He tried to explain some things about baseball to me, by way of making conversation, but little if any of it sank in. I know this because decades later, he had to explain it all again. I think I've got it now.

We also got him this outfit for cooler weather

(Batting Average should be .300 or higher. Earned Run Average -- that's for pitchers -- should be under 3.00 ... don't get those decimal points in the wrong place and whatever you do, don't get the under/overs confused.)

That reminds me of something my Mamaw said many decades ago. Her youngest son and my mother's youngest brother, my beloved Uncle Dodie, had played golf with some friends. Duffers all.

Dagny made sure she got to squeeze her baby cousin

They played an eighteen-hole course with a par of seventy-two.

When he got home, Mamaw asked Dodie what the score was. He told her that he shot over one hundred but that his friends had shot in the nineties.

Mike caught Audrey and me doing good

That's good, baby, she said. You won.

She went to a professional baseball game once too. At the seventh inning stretch, she stood with the crowd, gathered up her purse, and said Thank the Lord that's over.

Me and five of my grandbabies

Mamaw was a hoot. But not a sports fan.

And that's okay. 

As for TG and me, we are most definitely sports fans. I limit my enthusiasm to baseball, specifically the Chicago Cubs and occasionally the Pittsburgh Pirates and the New York Yankees.

Dagny squeezed Ember at a Starbucks

TG likes and follows lots of sports, but will no longer watch the NFL and rarely the NBA. You know why.

But baseball we can agree on, which is why in a few days we are headed up to Chicago to take in two late-season games at iconic Wrigley Field.

(We will definitely both be decked out in official Cub fan gear. We've each got lots.)

Dagny posed with one of the lions outside the church

Wrigley Field -- a/k/a The Friendly Confines -- is one of only three original ballparks in America. As in, it's never been torn down and replaced with a newer, more modern one.

Do you know the other two ballparks in America that can make the same claim? I regret to say that I have never been to either of them (for a game; we have toured one of them), but while there's life, there's hope.

If you know which two they are, without looking it up, tell me in the comments.

Skippy contemplates the menu at Cheddar's

And even if you have to look it up, tell me in the comments.

Meanwhile we're having some beautiful weather here, no longer sweltering. Speaking of firsts, be it birthdays or dates, the first day of fall is a mere eleven days away.

He was born 45 years to the day after our first date

Speaking of eleven, today is nine eleven.

Never forget.

On the twenty-third anniversary of that awful and heartbreaking day, may God bless America and confound her enemies both foreign and domestic. Especially domestic.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Wednesday

Stand for the Land

Love to see you smile! Seen in West Virginia as we traveled.

TG and I had three reasons for our recent trip to Cleveland, Ohio.

One: To attend a baseball game -- the Cleveland Guardians Indians versus our beloved Chicago Cubs.

(I will always call them the Indians. Especially since they were the team that the Cubs beat 8-7 in extra innings during the seventh game of the World Series, played at Wrigley Field on November 2, 2016.)

Two: To see our niece Joanna and her husband Jacob and their little sons, Freddy and Andrew. I shared in this post about Jacob, who is a concert pianist and professional musician; and

She adorns a corner of Riverside Cemetery

Three: To visit Lake View Cemetery, where Jacob and Joanna's second son, Noah, is laid to rest, and also to pay our respects at the grave of Ray Chapman.

Baby Noah, afflicted with Trisomy 13, lived for 42 days.

Ray Chapman is famous for being the only major league baseball player to die as a result of being hit by a pitch.

It happened during a game in New York in August of 1920. Ray Chapman, who played shortstop for the Cleveland Indians, was twenty-nine years old at the time of his passing.

Giving a new meaning to "keeping up with the Joneses"

If you're so inclined, you can read the whole story about the terrible accident that claimed Ray's life here.

And if the baseballs and other memorabilia left at his grave are any indication, he has not been forgotten.

As if what happened to Ray were not bad enough, what his wife Katie and little girl, Rae endured after his death is heartbreaking too.

Katie delivered her beloved husband Ray's daughter six months after he died, and named her Rae Marie. She later remarried and in 1926 had another child, a boy.

Me with Freddy, nearly 5, and Andrew, 17 months

But, still deeply depressed over losing Ray, she committed suicide in April of 1928. Almost exactly one year later, their daughter Rae Marie, age eight, succumbed to measles.

I learned of all this back in the spring and that's when plans were made to attend the Cubs game in Cleveland, and to visit Lake View Cemetery and to spend some time with Jacob and Joanna and the boys.

We left on a Sunday afternoon and drove to Beckley, West Virginia, where we spent the night.

The next morning we drove the rest of the way to Cleveland, where our first stop was Riverside Cemetery.

I got this book at the dollar store. It's good. Mike gave me the pen.

I didn't know anyone there, but we had a few hours to while away before checking into our hotel and then going to Jacob and Joanna's house for dinner, and the weather was splendid.

Riverside is a typically glorious older cemetery, with acres and acres of monuments. Beautiful place.

It's unfortunate that I was there at the wrong time of day, because to walk and photograph this cemetery during the golden hour (just before sunset, or just after sunrise) would be a real treat.

You need some Garnier Thiebaut towels

But it was seventy-three degrees with low humidity, and the cicadas were doing a continuous winding-ringing noise from their sticking places in thousands of mature trees, and although the light was not right, it was a near-idyllic experience.

I took lots of pictures in spite of sub-optimal conditions, but really only two appeal to me enough to show to you.

The first is an upshot of a female figure high on a pedestal, with one arm stretched heavenward and the other in an interesting position relative to the outstretched one, as if she had just released something.

Cleveland's best-kept secret

You can see in that picture how blue and cloudless the sky was.

The other is the boulder marking the grave of the Joneses. The ones who, in this case, you may or may not want to keep up with.

After checking in at the InterContinental Suites Hotel, we got reorganized and set out for our niece's home about five miles away.

The main gate of Lake View Cemetery

Cleveland is, among other things, all about the Cleveland Clinic, and buildings for that health care system are everywhere. They don't match; conceptualizing and constructing those edifices must have kept a great many architects and craftsmen busy for a good many years.

Once at Joanna's house in a cozy neighborhood where most if not all of the domiciles were built during World War II, we found Jacob grilling chicken out by the garage and the two little boys playing nearby.

Joanna, expecting again and due next February (25 in 2025! my sister crows, that being the number of grandchildren she will have when this child arrives), came out of the house smiling and reaching to hug us.

Cenotaph for the family of Eliot Ness

My niece, my sister's youngest child, is one of the most positive, happy, upbeat people you will ever meet, and she loves being a wife and mother and homemaker, and she is a gracious and thoughtful hostess.

I had not come empty handed; I had a gift for Joanna of two cobalt-blue bottles full of twinkling fairy lights, and a loaf of homemade banana-nut bread for the family, and dollar store transformer vehicles for each of the boys.

Joanna told us that she has to protect her gardens (she has more than one) with netting supported on tall sticks, or the deer that roam freely in Cleveland will eat everything!

On an August day in 1920, Ray Chapman became a statistic

But she served us delicious grilled zucchini along with the chicken, and a green salad, and for dessert there were skillet peaches (she got those from the farmer's market) with real whipped cream and chopped pecans.

We had the nicest visit, and when we left around nine, there were plans to meet the next day at Baby Noah's grave, and spend some more time together before TG and I were due at the ball game.

Our hotel was so comfortable and we settled in to look at our devices (we play word games to keep our minds sharp; not sure it's working in my case) while Forensic Files played nonstop on the TV.

In due time I took a refreshing shower. The towels! They were so thick, so fluffy, that I took pictures of the tags so that I can buy some of these for my own house.

Baby Noah is buried not far from the twisty oak

I had never had my consciousness raised to Garnier Thiebaut towels but they're on my radar now. There was a matching robe in the closet but I did not wear it!

The next morning we went to the Landmark Restaurant for breakfast. I am always looking for local non-chain diners and restaurants where I can get an omelet -- spinach and feta being my favorite -- and TG can get whatever looks good to him.

When we walked into the restaurant it was quickly apparent that we were the only white folks present. It is a large place in an old building, and other diners nodded pleasantly at us as we were seated.

I had one of the top three spinach and feta omelets I have ever been served, and the best bacon I have ever eaten, period, hands down. I even ordered a second round of that bacon.

No doubt the deer have eaten the flowers by now

When we had concluded our meal and TG had paid the bill and we were heading out for Lake View Cemetery to spend a few hours walking around before meeting Joanna and her family, TG told me that the owners of the restaurant are white.

He knew because the wife was serving as cashier and her husband was doing the cooking. All I know is, it was delicious and I would not hesitate to eat there again if I ever end up in Cleveland in the future.

At Lake View we saw the cenotaph* dedicated to Eliot Ness and his wife and son. Ness was a legendary lawman and author of The Untouchables, which was made into a 1987 Hollywood movie starring Kevin Costner as Eliot Ness.

*A cenotaph is a marker that memorializes more than one person, any or all of whom may or may not be buried there. In Ness's case, he died in 1957 and his wife and son lived until the 1970s, but the ashes of all three were scattered in a pond at Lake View Cemetery in 1997.

Little brother Andrew Sebastian

President James Garfield is also entombed at Lake View. I did not visit his impressive grave site but TG did and said it was fascinating.

After a while we drove back to the office, where I had arranged to meet with Joanna and family at two o'clock. I wanted to put flowers at Noah's grave and it was nice that there were pretty bouquets for sale in a cooler in that office.

Flowers purchased, we met our party and set out for Noah's resting place.

We had actually already found it earlier, since its coordinates are listed on Noah's Find a Grave page.

He ain't heavy; he's our brother

Joanna remarked when I placed the flowers on Noah's little headstone that the deer would only eat them. I kind of like the thought of a gentle-eyed deer bending over Noah's grave to munch on the flowers.

After a lovely time there with Noah's family, we were invited to join in their tradition of going for ice cream after a cemetery visit.

And not just any ice cream. Joanna told me that Mitchell's of Cleveland is the best. After enjoying a Taster's Duo consisting of one scoop of dark roast coffee ice cream and one scoop of lemon sorbet, I would have to concur. 

It was exceptional ice cream.

Freddy's selection featured sprinkles

After our treat, we walked outside for a bit. The little boys played under a huge silver sculpture of a hand that looks as though it's trying to walk across the ground.

After a bit it was time for us to regroup and get back to the hotel and set out for the ball park.

We said our goodbyes. Jacob and Joanna and the boys went out into the sunny day and we made our way back to our room.

TG wanted us to ride the city bus to and from Progressive Field, and since we only had to walk across the street to get on, I was okay with that.

Once at the ball park, we got into a long queue but it moved very quickly and before we knew it, they had scanned our tickets on my phone and we were inside.

A hand for the land

Upon entry to the venue we were each handed a bright pink pouch which, when I focused on it, I realized was coffee. Yay coffee!

It was in honor of the Indians' special guest that night, a young man called Machine Gun Kelly, a performer of some sort who is from Cleveland and goes by the initials MGK.

And if the design on the coffee pouch is any indication, he is also known as "The Blonde Don" but do not ask me why.

If I have ever heard of MGK it was only in passing; I know nothing about him. And if you know the pirate at all, you know this is not my kind of scene anyway.

The line was long but extra-quick

But MGK was actually there that night and I heard that he threw out the first pitch but that was when I was in line for my pretzel and a refill of my nine-dollar souvenir cup of Diet Pepsi, so I missed it.

I think he led the crowd in singing Take Me Out to the Ball Game during the seventh inning stretch too.

TG does not drink coffee so the two pouches are all mine and when I open them I'll let you know how MGK Joe rates.

Our seats were in full sun but we were early, so I got a hot dog and we both got soft drinks, and we sat in some shaded seats and I ate the excellent hot dog and was still hungry. As I said, even before the game started I went back for a pretzel and then still later, seventh inning or so, some popcorn.

I cannot resist concessions.

The big sign encourages fans to stand for the land

The Cubs not only lost in the second game of their series as guests of the Cleveland Indians, but they had lost the first game too, and would lose the third game the next night.

It's the only time this season that they have been swept. Meaning, they lost all games in a series.

Oh well. Move forward. There's still a little bit of time to make the playoffs. It may take a miracle, but there is still time. Barely.

Which is what we did when the game was over. Move forward, that is. Apparently riding the bus back to our hotel was not an option, so we called an Uber. 

We had to wait fifteen minutes but eventually our driver appeared and it wasn't long before we were again comfortably ensconced in our room.

It's coffee. That's all you need to know.

The next morning we had a ten-hour drive ahead of us and ideally we would have been on the road by nine o'clock at the latest.

But for no reason that I could ascertain, I woke up at three o'clock in the morning and was wide awake until seven. Yes I got up. Then I went back to bed. No it was not good.

So, we got on the road at eleven o'clock and bit the bullet. It was about nine that night when we got home.

It was altogether an interesting and enjoyable three-day excursion, with a lot of things packed into a short time.

Until next time, shine on, Cleveland

We took another trip this past weekend, from Friday to Sunday. I'll tell you about it in a few days.

And our next trip is coming up in a little over three weeks. This is a big one! Stay tuned.

What have you been up to? Tell me in the comments.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Tuesday

Wait just a second there

Mike, getting used to the way we do birthdays

Before August becomes nor more than a dim memory I suppose I should bring you up to speed on all we've been up to.

See what I did there? Up to no good.

I had a funny experience a week or so ago. If I'm honest I can say it is the first time this has ever happened to me and will most likely be the last.

It transpired at the grocery store where I'd gone to pick up maybe six or eight things. Not my usual order but it was for a particular and rather narrow purpose.

In fact it was part of the shopping I did for Henry's meals, which by the way, he has been raving about.

August is slipping from the calendar

Particularly well received was the meatloaf. Let's pull over and park here for a mo.

Throughout the decades I have made meatloaf by adding to the lean ground meat one egg, a handful of dry oatmeal, a generous squirt of ketchup, and whatever seasonings I saw fit.

One of the secrets of good meatloaf if you're asking me, is to bake it on a rack so that it does not rest in its own grease.

Towards the end of cooking, I take it out of the oven and apply a generous amount of ketchup to the top, spreading it all around so everything is covered, then bake until the ketchup forms a glaze.

And, et voilà, Bob's your uncle! That's a good meatloaf.

Persistent rain cloaked our area for days

But this time, while looking for the canned goods I would need for my chili, me pirate eye fell on this product: Hunt's Seasoned Tomato Sauce for Meatloaf. Basically a meatloaf starter.

If this product has existed for any length of time, it had previously escaped my notice.

I decided to give it a try.

To two pounds of lean ground beef I added about two-thirds of the starter sauce, plus the egg and oatmeal. At any rate I followed the recipe on the can.

I shaped the meat into two one-pound loaves -- one for TG and one for Henry. But even if I were not sharing, I would make this with two loaves. You can always eat one and put the other in the freezer for a rainy day.

Rhett was having a high old time

Towards the end of cooking, I added the remaining one-third can of starter sauce to the tops of my meatloaves.

Henry has raved about that meatloaf both to me and to my sister, to the point that she has texted to ask that I share what I did to that meatloaf to garner such a response.

(TG liked it but by no means raved; I'm not sure what to make of that, but I will make this meatloaf again.)

So now you know. If you want to wow someone with a humble meatloaf, go and do as I did.

Anyway, Henry also enjoyed everything else I made for him and I cannot tell you how glad I was to hear that.

Erica's compact canine unit, Sibi, matches the recliner

But I was at the store to get a few things I needed -- as I said, maybe ten things tops -- and in the checkout line, it not being a busy time of day, I was the only customer after the person ahead of me cleared out.

The cashier was an older lady, neat and tidy, having put on makeup and everything. She looked really nice.

Of particular interest to me was the wig she was wearing; it was a bobbed style dyed black at the roots and platinum blonde from the ears down. It actually looked cute on her.

She asked if I had one of those cards you scan to get the everyday low low prices and I said no, I thought I did but I don't.

Our Dagny loves a family get-together

We have just really started shopping at that store since we got fed up with the store where we used to shop.

So she encouraged me to visit a kiosk near the door as I left, to apply for said card, and I said that I would.

And then she said: That will be two thirty-eight. It all happened so fast.

I said, Excuse me?

She repeated: That will be two-thirty eight. And looked at me as though it was my turn.

Audrey got this balloon for Mike. No he is not a gamer.

It looked as though all of my purchases were still on the conveyor belt. I was the only person in line. I mean is that even a line? Does the pirate all by her onesie constitute a line?

Anyway I honestly thought she was asking me to pay for that card that they would later scan in order to give me access to the low low everyday prices.

So I said, I mean what is that for?

She replied; For your order. And she pointed to one item that she had scanned and put into a bag. I hadn't noticed that before.

I looked at my other stuff. But, I said, what about the rest of my groceries?

The sun did not shine! It was too wet to play!

She looked down and gasped. Oh I am so sorry! she said, and quickly began scanning my remaining items.

I'm old! she exclaimed by way of explanation for her error. I'm nearly seventy!

Well I resemble that a little more than I am comfortable with but I just said: Oh girl don't think a thing of it! I thought you were saying I had to pay for the discount card, haha!

She said: Of course you don't have to pay for that! I saw that stuff but I just thought it was someone else's order.

? ? ? ? ?

Erica's musical selections added to the cozy ambience

There was no one else but I let that slide because what does one say at such a time?

At any rate I soon paid for my purchaseS but not before she had apologized eighteen more times for being such an airhead, and I assured her it was absolutely not a problem and suggested that she forget it immediately.

But you know, I feel every day as though I am forgetting something. I think it's the wedding mode I'm in.

However we did not forget to celebrate our Mike's birthday on the sixth of this month.

Erica's incredible disappearing brownies

That was the week that we had rain, rain, rain, a brief lull, more rain, then more and more and more rain, until on his actual birthday it rained all day without stopping.

It was the storm they named Debby. We had none of the catastrophic effects as they did in the Low Country of South Carolina, from that weather event; we were fortunate.

But it was a rainy week and as I said, on the day, it did nothing but rain.

Erica had made her wonderful white chicken chili, and she'd also made brownies. Audrey made her beloved a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies, his favorite.

We had brought a small gift and it was cozy to be inside Erica's homey house full of lamplight, the skies all gray and weeping, and eat and visit and love on the babies.

I did the dishes. Yay me.

I always say I'll do the dishes if there are gloves to wear to protect my manicure, and Erica didn't have the right kind so Audrey dodged raindrops to go to her car and retrieve her heavy housecleaning gloves (they were in her car because she cleans houses for a living), so that I could wear them.

So the dishes got done and the dishwasher loaded and so forth, and that was my contribution.

Erica had lovely music floating from her bluetooth speaker that looks like a vintage retro radio, and the rain fell and Mike opened his gift and we all had a great time.

Rhett did not become emotional at the music. We are attempting to immunize him ahead of the wedding, where there will be a glut of lush, romantic tunefulness.

Mike appreciated our efforts on his behalf

You won't believe this. Mike had at first said, when I asked, that he didn't want to "do anything" for his birthday.

? ? ? ? ?

I told Audrey: Well chickie that hound won't hunt, and she prevailed on her intended to submit to being fêted on the day.

It's just how we roll. As you well know.

I told Mike when we arrived that evening, waterlogged but none the worse for wear: If you want to avoid observation of your birthdays, you are marrying into the wrong family.

Everyone misted with mirth because if that's not the truth, God didn't make the little green apples.

Audrey produced a batch of Mike's favorite cookies

No birthday left behind, is our motto. Or if it isn't, it should be.

And then a few days later, TG and I embarked on a trip to Cleveland, and later this week I will tell you about that adventure.

It involved relatives, cemeteries, ice cream, and baseball.

Oh and it involved me forgetting something: my ankle-length black Shadowline nightgown with roses embroidered at the neckline, without which garment I cannot live.

I left it hanging from a hook on the back of the bathroom door on the day we departed for home.

It's been awhile since anyone around here has had to water their grass

When I called the InterContinental Suites Hotel to make sure they had it -- they did -- I learned that if I wanted it back it would cost up to one hundred and seven dollars, depending on how quickly I wanted it.

They have a contract with FedEx.

Hmmmmm. After careful consideration I opted to send them a self-addressed, postage prepaid padded mailer into which they have promised to stuff my nightgown and zip it right back to me.

I think it's interesting that they get kickbacks from FedEx can't -- or won't -- simply put a forgotten item into a mailing envelope or box and send it back to the careless guest via the United States Postal Service, and put the charge for that on a credit card.

Ahoy and avast! That would be too easy. And that's not how we do things in the big city!

Elliot a/k/a Skippy is a sought-after lap buddy

The takeaway: Do a thorough sweep of your room before checking out of a hotel.

Ironically, I had thought to remove TG's hanging shirts from the closet, and drape them over his suitcase, lest he forget them.

I am not suggesting that he would have; I'm just saying that's what I did. Also I snagged his aviators from the bedside table and put them beside his wallet. Pirates are nothing if not helpful.

Later he told me that he had noticed my gown hanging on the back of the bathroom door, but ...

I snagged some snuggle time with my Skippy

But what? Just fill in the blank because you know what.

Dearest! Repeat after me: If you see something, say something!!!

Speaking of what, what have you left behind in hotel rooms? Did you let them keep it, or did you pay through the nose to get it back?

Tell me in the comments.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Tuesday

Eat up, Henry

Henry and me in an unretouched photo, last Saturday

Henry turned ninety-two on Sunday.

If you're new here and/or don't already know, Henry was married to my late mother for thirty-seven years.

Mom passed away in 2020.

Henry lives in Greenville, less than a two-hour drive from us, in the house he shared with my mother.

For someone of his age, it's remarkable that he keeps the big house clean and also does a great deal of the yard work.

(He has said that although he misses my mother, he enjoys living alone. That doesn't explain why he has been ready to propose to half a dozen ladies in the last four years, but we'll take him at his word.)

Since Mom passed away, my sister Kay and I have done what we can to help with his meals. Certain close friends have been thoughtful of Henry in that way too.

Three small banana breads rather than one big loaf

For example, every Sunday after church, Henry eats lunch with Kay and her husband and whomever else happens to be there.

Whenever I visit, I bring food to have that day, with Henry and my sister and her husband and whomever else joins us -- yes I always make plenty -- and to put leftovers away for the next day or two.

I never, ever go empty-handed.

(Audrey calls me Meals on Wheels, an inside joke originating from our both being fans of Twin Peaks. IYKYK.)

As well, both the eldest and the youngest of Henry's four daughters, who live in distant states, have visited several times and made meals ahead for him, leaving them in the freezer.

This is even though Henry tends to complain about cooking smells, even as his meals are being cooked.

(How one can apply heat to food in order to cook it, without there being cooking smells, is beyond all of us.)

Our darling Dagny

At the same time, he has expressed that he enjoys home-cooked meals so much more than whatever convenience and/or processed foods he subsists on in their absence.

Well duh.

So, since TG and I had given Henry two nice shirts for Father's Day in June, and he truly is a man who has everything, I decided that for his birthday, I would prepare several lunches and take them to him as a gift.

(Henry rises early and has his breakfast of oatmeal and coffee, then eats his main meal at noonday. In the evening he eats a bowl of cereal with half a banana.)

(My mother used to say that she would buy the smallest bananas she could find at the store, hoping that just once Henry would slice the whole thing into his cereal.)

(But no! she'd continue. Even if she found a banana that was three inches long, Henry would cut it in half and leave the uneaten portion on the counter to use in his cereal the next evening.)

We met this past Saturday at noon, at the Cracker Barrel in Simpsonville, about an hour away for us and a forty-minute drive for Henry.

Lovingly prepared sirloin steak in pan sauce

(Yes he still drives; the SCDMV recently renewed his license for eight more years. If you're in the Greenville area, look out because Henry has a lead foot and lives/loves to drive.)

Mike and Audrey and Dagny joined us, and we had a nice lunch and chatted for about an hour.

Henry was due back in Greenville by three o'clock for celebratory cake and coffee at my sister's, so after lunch we walked out to the parking lot and I gave him his vittles.

TG had set up the big cooler with ice in the back of our car and I had a nice large box from Costco, for Henry to transport his delicacies.

I'd made chili earlier in the week, and set aside a generous container of that for him. I'd fixed him a small meatloaf, three barbecued chicken tenders, and a sirloin steak with a delicious pan sauce.

Sides were corn muffin tops (wonderful with chili), mashed potatoes, squash casserole, and sweet corn.

For desserts and/or noshing I made him three mini-loaves of banana nut bread. Audrey had also brought him a treat: homemade oatmeal chocolate-chip cookies.

We got the food transferred from the cooler to the box and into the trunk of Henry's car, and off he went to put everything away at home.

Dagny and her great-grandpa Henry

Later that night he called me. He sounded near tears. Unhappy and overwhelmed.

The issue was that I had given him too much. It's enough for twenty meals! he exclaimed, his voice querulous.

(Which was untrue; I had not given him enough for twenty meals. Not even close.)

I told Henry as much, and gently reminded him that what I had done was cook for hours on a sweltering day when I would have just as soon not turned the oven on, so that he would have a number of freshly made home-cooked meals to put in his freezer.

And that, with all due respect, what might be in order is an attitude of gratitude.

But he wondered, in a worried tone, how long the meals could possibly last in the freezer.

I told him what I'm pretty sure he already knew: that in theory they would last indefinitely, but he would likely have consumed all of the food within a few weeks, even if he ate from them every other day.

I think the real issue was, he was balking at the task of dividing the meals into separate containers and placing them in the freezer.

Squash and zucchini casserole, from scratch

All of which would have taken perhaps fifteen minutes.

You can lead a horse to water ...

(The reason I didn't perform that service for him is that, one, I didn't want to give him all of my storage containers, and two, I didn't know how much he would want of any given thing in a single meal.)

Life is about choices.

At any rate, I guess if I were to repeat this performance, I would buy sectioned single-meal containers and dole out the helpings so that he has only to put one dish per meal in the freezer, and bring one dish out at a time to defrost and microwave.

The only thing is, to quote the cute pirate: I won't be making that mistake again. Next time he's getting a ten-dollar gift card to Chick-fil-A.

(This pirate may be short on disposable storage containers but she is long on memory.)

Soon enough, however, I imagine that Henry will have the ability to see what can be, unburdened by what has been.

Our Mike, with Audrey. Mike says he's always smiling on the inside.

He'll eat the dishes I prepared especially for him, and enjoy them, and that will be the end of it.

Oh dear. Have you been in a situation where you felt that no good deed went unpunished?

Tell me about it.

Meanwhile, today is Mke's birthday. I have to go and get ready for his party. I'll tell you about it later in the week.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Tuesday