A decade of Dagny

Audrey went with a rose-gold color scheme for decorations

Today I'm going to tell you about Dagny's tenth birthday party, which took place on her actual tenth birthday: Friday, the fourteenth of June.

Flag day. Also she shares a birthday with President Trump.

Ten years of our Dagny. If you are new or new-ish to I'm Having A Thought Here and don't know the story of Dagny and would like to read it, click here.

And a post in a similar vein, written a few weeks later, may interest you as well.

I asked Dagny to pose when she ran out to greet us

But ten years old? Double digits, already? Our beloved Daggybug (my nickname for her), the Dagginator (TG's nickname for her)?

It was hard to get our heads around but we took to party planning like it was our paid profession.

We held Dagny's birthday celebration at Mike's house, which in less than five months, when her mother marries Mike, will be Dagny's house too.

I prepared all of the food ahead of time. The main part of the menu had been requested by the birthday girl.

Ten years since we first beheld our darling Dagny

She wanted kebabs. 

Audrey and I discussed our options and I made my shopping list and went to the store.

Costco has a pretty great package of thick sirloin steaks. There are five to a package and the price is good; I can't say for sure but I think it comes out to about six dollars a pound. Maybe a little more.

At any rate it was thirty-five dollars for five steaks.

Mike presented Dagny with this adorable bouquet

That's a good price for this cut and quality of meat. We're all meat lovers but we don't have the budget for Wagyu beef at a ten-year-old's birthday party.

Also, a few of us enjoy their meat cooked medium well but most of us -- the pirate most definitely included -- prefer it well done. Don't judge.

So I got the steaks, and at Walmart I picked up a large pack of boneless, skinless chicken breasts.

On Friday morning, the day of the party, I cut up the meats into chunks and put them into marinades.

There's a cake for every occasion

For the chicken I used straight soy sauce, nothing added. This is excellent and I do it all the time. Occasionally I throw in some fresh minced garlic but this time I had only four cloves on hand and I wanted it for the beef.

In musing whether one could marinate beef in balsamic vinegar by itself (because I had a lot of it), I found the marinade recipe included as a photo in this post.

I didn't alter the recipe except I may have doubled it. Into the marinade the beef chunks went. This marinade is outstanding and I urge you to try it the next time you have the need.

Truly delicious.

Dagny wasn't the only one who got flowers

Chicken chunks were joined with their soy sauce soak, and I also soaked my kebab sticks in water.

(I think you're supposed to do that so they don't catch fire on the grill. Mike had some metal sticks with fancy handles that I used for the meat kebabs later, but I knew he had only six, and that wasn't enough.)

We were ten in number -- and I just realized that our number matched Dagny's age.

In addition to me and TG there were Maudag (Mike, Audrey, Dagny) and Chericot (Chad, Erica, Rhett, and Elliot). 

You cannot have too many balloons

Mike's mother -- we call her Miss Judi -- joined us as well. She's eighty-five and loves life. She even went to Paris with the group in early May.

My plan was to assemble the meat kebabs at the party, just before they were grilled.

But we wanted vegetable kebabs too, so next, I got busy making those.

(We didn't want to grill our veggies on the same stick as the meat, because the meat takes longer to cook and the vegetables can fall apart.)

I put the veggie kebabs together at home

I used red, yellow, and orange peppers, Vidalia onions, cherry tomatoes, and pineapple chunks out of a can.*

After those were prepared and safely in the garage fridge waiting for transport, I turned my attention to making deviled eggs.

My granddaughter is extremely partial to Mamaw's deviled eggs.

Those finished and having placed my deviled-egg carrier (yes of course I have one; it holds twenty-four of the delicacies on two levels) beside the veggie-kebabs in the garage fridge, waiting for the trip to Mike's, I got busy with the rest of the repast.

Reheated Apple Pie Baked Beans

There were plenty of Apple Pie Baked Beans left over from the party with my niece's family the night before, so I put those into an oven-safe dish and set them aside.

(I had actually planned on this ahead of time, knowing we had parties two nights in a row; that recipe makes lots of baked beans.)

Also in the lineup was another big baking dish of macaroni and cheese, just as I'd made the night before. Once at Mike's I would pop it into the oven to heat through and get simmery around the edges.

Last, I prepared sweet corn for the grill. What I do is, I put the corn in the middle of a piece of tin foil and add butter and salt, then wrap it up.

TG bought this corn but Mike and Audrey had more

After grilling, all you have to do is open your corn and it's ready to gnaw on.

I don't eat corn on the cob but most in our group do, and did, and pronounced it succulent.

When it was time to head out from our house, TG helped me pack all of the cold food items into the big cooler and get everything smothered with ice.

The remainder of dishes and supplies were loaded into sturdy boxes that we had set aside just for that purpose.

Doing the birthday float

Dagny came running outside when we arrived, and I made her pose on the sidewalk as she was wearing a glittering sash and tiara with her pink dress.

It was a hot day and we continue to have broiling, sweltering days. Mike lives on a golf course so there's a breeze and he has a roomy deck but I only went outside once, for about a minute.

The mosquitoes did not have time to find me before I hustled back inside. There is also a small screened porch but to be honest I didn't have time to sit around passing the time of day. 

I put the beef-and-chicken kebabs together and we lined them up on cookie sheets and delivered them to Chad out by the grill, along with the veggie kebabs to be put on last, with the sweet corn.

Dagny's OBP: Official Birthday Photo

Before long the kebabs were smelling scrumptious.

Audrey had of course ordered a special cake for Dagny, and the confection made mention of her new double digit status.

Lots of pink icing was involved.

She also gone for the huge one and zero balloons in rose gold, floating a big ten over the proceedings.

When I saw these I knew we had kebab success

For Dagny's birthday parties Audrey has in the past bought Nerds Gummy Clusters and put them out for snacking, and this year was no exception.

That candy is addictive. You think you won't be affected by it and next thing you know, you've eaten ten pieces and you're reaching for the eleventh.

And it's so cute in the colorful candy dishes that Audrey got at the dollar store, for the year that Dagny's birthday party had a space/universe theme.

Lots of purples and blues dominated that decorating scheme.

Chericot chilling ... plus Dagny

Mike had bought a sweetly exquisite bouquet of flowers in a lovely vase for Dagny, along with a card. The flowers were on the counter near the candy.

Speaking of flowers, a much larger quantity of blooms had been delivered to Mike's house that day.

Let's not get ahead of ourselves but TG's and my forty-fifth wedding anniversary was two days hence.

Particulars of that party will provide the pith of the pirate's next post.

Pirate deviled eggs :: the secret ingredient is cayenne pepper

I had planned to order four dozen red roses and put them -- minus three stems -- on a pedestal in front of the pulpit in our church auditorium.

Members of our congregation often do that to mark special occasions or to honor loved ones.

But our four children said that they wanted to buy the flowers for us, so Erica did the ordering and had the roses delivered to Mike's since that's where we would all be on Friday when they were set to show up.

We use Global Rose -- we did this same thing five years ago on our fortieth anniversary -- and they do a good job delivering gorgeous roses right to your door. In any quantity.

I kept going to check on my anniversary roses

The roses are packaged safely and they're fresh and they open nicely. And at twenty dollars a dozen, it's probably the best price you'll find on the internet.

So the big box of roses, unopened, had been placed on Mike's dining table, and Erica had bought three bunches of baby's breath at Publix, and I resisted the urge to open the box but instead put everything in a cool place to wait.

Later we took them home and I arranged them in the huge vase I bought five years ago for our fortieth.

I had to put glass beads in the bottom to give the roses some lift, and with the water, it was heavy.

Take my advice and try this marinade

TG ended up putting the hefty arrangement into a box with towels around it in the passenger floorboard of the car, and taking the flowers over to the church on Saturday evening.

That way we didn't have to worry about getting them there on Sunday morning, which was also Father's Day, and TG planned to attend our annual men's breakfast.

Via text I submitted a picture of us at our wedding to the young family man at church who takes care of media-type things, and it was displayed throughout the day on Sunday on our large double screens, along with all of the other announcements.

This was happiness in grillville

It was strange to look up and see my 22-year-old self as a bride, beaming at TG. How did forty-five years get away from me? It leaves me lost in wonder.

Several folks commented both to me and to Audrey that they saw her in my young-girl face. And now she is set to be a bride.

(In my next post, as promised, I will show you that picture. And our roses.)

Elliot a/k/a Skippy will turn nine months old this week

Back to our birthday meal, which was consumed and enjoyed with some of our group sitting inside and some sitting outside. Dagny sat next to me. Inside.

Everything was delicious and after we were all full, many of us pitched in to do cleanup. Then Mike served coffee from his Nespresso Vertuo and we relaxed for a while.

Erica was in another part of the house, feeding Elliot, when Dagny began bringing her birthday gift bags over to the couch, in keen anticipation of opening them.

I made her wait until Erica could join us, and she was a good sport about that.

We sang to her

And the gifts were opened and Dagny seemed to like and greatly appreciate everything she received.

Time for cake! We lit Dagny's candles and sang to her, and Audrey began serving the sweet slices.

A few bites of that was enough, and everyone began thinking about heading for home. Rhett and Elliot were tired. Cherica were tired and I was tired but it was a good kind of weariness.

I'm not sure about TG, or Maudrey for that matter. They didn't seem tired and for sure Dagny would have continued her birthday bash into the wee hours had she been allowed.

Here's hoping you see something like this on your plate this summer

It's always sad to see the party come to a close, but I for one was seeking a reunion with my pillow.

As it happened, when we got home and I'd done all of the unpacking and organizing with dishes and so forth, I fooled with those roses for a solid hour before getting them the way I wanted them.

After a sleep I'd have my Saturday to prepare for the next party, which was set for Sunday.

Me and my beloved Daggybug

I will tell you about that later in the week. And in case you were wondering, yes! We have a party planned for this week too.

You'll be brought up to speed in due time, with plenty of pictures.

Meanwhile I have a menu and a shopping list to prepare.

And that is all for now. 

* Extra credit if you get the Johnny Depp movie reference in that sentence.

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Happy Last Week of June :: Happy Summer

There's a welcome here

My great-nephews Jonathan and JP

Time to tell you about the first of our three parties from last week and weekend.

The first involved my niece, Rebecca, and her family.

Rebecca is the third child (and third daughter) of my sister, Kay, and her husband, Pierre-Philippe, who have seven children and I have lost track of how many grandchildren.

As for Rebecca, when TG and I were married forty-five years ago, she was in utero. 

My sister was of course the matron of honor at TG's and my wedding in June of 1979, and I remember her feeling unwell in the summer heat and all of the excitement, and being far from home (they lived in Europe at the time, and her husband did not accompany her on the trip).

Audrey and Mike visit with Rebecca and Lydia

All of this while being in the first trimester with her third child while the two older girls were still pretty small. The three sisters adhered to the stairstep trope; the first of their two brothers would come along in early 1982.

Rebecca was born in December of 1979, right about the time that TG and I learned we were expecting our Stephanie.

I was present in Quebec, Canada when, in November of 2004, Rebecca and Rex were married in a lovely church wedding.

She had met Rex while serving as a missionary for a while in her early twenties; I cannot remember the country.

Rhett cherishing his Peppa Pig toys

Rex's heritage is Chinese-Filipino (he was born in Manila, Philippines), but I'm pretty sure they met neither in China nor the Philippines.

But I could be wrong. I know that they did live in China for several years, and that the youngest of their four children -- Jonathan, who is twelve years of age -- was born there.

Rex is a doctor, and for the past ten years or so he has served as the medical director of two assisted living facilities in South Bend, Indiana.

Several months ago my sister told me that Rex had been interviewed by LMC Extended Care for the position of Medical Director.

Chad last saw Rex at my mother's funeral in 2020

If I were to get into my car and head for LMC Extended Care, it would take me about twelve minutes to get there.

We live two miles from the dam -- officially the Dreher (say "drear") Shoals Dam but locally and colloquially referred to by the interchangeable names Lake Murray Dam, Saluda Dam, and Saluda River Dam -- and the extended care facility is just across the dam and down a ways, one turn and there you are.

We were thrilled at this news and I didn't dare wish for Rebecca and her family to move to our area, thinking it would never happen and surely I'd be disappointed.

But the offer of employment was extended to Rex during the winter, and he accepted, and back in early March, Rebecca came to town with her two boys in order to look at a school they may attend, and TG and I showed them around and we all had a late breakfast together.

I made the apple pie baked beans

The boys are being educated partially at home by their mother and partially (two days a week) at a cooperative private school.

A move to South Carolina was particularly attractive to Rebecca and family since her parents, my sister and brother-in-law, live in Greenville, a ninety-minute drive from Columbia.

Attractive to us too. TG and Rebecca have had a special relationship throughout her life. He's already loaning her his Daniel Silva spy thriller collection, one book at a time.

Rebecca told me a few months ago that their moving date was set for June eleventh, so all spring, we had that to look forward to.

I love all of my nieces and nephews and of course my children love their cousins, so everyone was excited at the prospect of their arrival.

My new flamingo and beach ball S&P shakers, for summer

The family will be living in an Airbnb until they decide on a house to buy.

As the day of the move approached, I called Rebecca and asked how things were going. Turned out they were right on schedule.

On June tenth I contacted my niece via text to say that I hoped she'd let us help in whatever way they might need during moving week, and also to invite them to dinner on Thursday the thirteenth.

In due time Rebecca responded that they would love to come to dinner on the thirteenth, and I began making preparations.

Mike chatting with Emmie

A simple but hearty summertime meal was called for, and you know me -- hamburgers and hotdogs done on the grill was the first thing that sprang to mind.

Everyone likes that, and TG does the grilling for me, and I can concentrate on the sides.

Often we have grilled chicken with the burgers and dogs, but because the very next day was Dagny's birthday and we'd have a grilled course for that too, I hewed to the burger-and-dog path and deemed that sufficient.

For sides I made my now-semi-famous Apple Pie Baked Beans -- what? You have not tried those yet? Well I declare, ahoy and avast, chop chop, shake a leg because these are excellent.

Lydia's hair has not seen scissors in many a year

One note regarding the recipe for Apple Pie Baked Beans: when you open the can of apple pie filling, pour it into a bowl and fish out the apple slices and cut them in halves or thirds before adding them to the beans.

Discard the too-sweet goo with which they share that can space. The beans don't need it.

Along with that side, I went with my boring old semi-homemade macaroni and cheese, because the kids love it and it's easy.

All I do is make two boxes of the Kraft Mac and Cheese Deluxe Original Cheddar, prepare it according to package directions, and then add a good quantity of hand-shredded sharp cheddar, and a generous splash of buttermilk. 

TG's tomatoes are exceptional this year

You can use plain milk. I always have buttermilk on hand.

Don't skimp on the extra cheese. You hear me? Do not skimp.

Mix it all up, pour it into your baking dish, add more hand-shredded cheese to the top, and bake at three-fifty for about fifteen minutes.

Bake it any longer and it will dry out. It's just heating through and becoming bubbly. Of course you want to take that out of the oven just as everyone is called to the food-serving area for the blessing and instructed to tuck in.

Rebecca was so relieved that moving day was behind her

I whipped up some coleslaw, also semi-homemade because the tri-color slaw comes in a bag, but I make the dressing with a combination of vinegar (usually apple cider), sugar, and mayonnaise.

TG has been growing beautiful tomatoes, so I sliced up some of those and had diced onion and bread and butter pickles for dressing the burgers and dogs.

I think we had deviled eggs too. In fact, I know we did. They're a staple at our festive meals. So easy to make.

Also chips -- wavy and barbecue. Plus the big galvanized bucket filled with soft drinks and water, covered with loads of lovely ice.

Rebecca made a pretty card to commemorate Lydia's high school graduation

I had begun preparations in earnest at about noon that day. Cooking came first, and I spent a few hours in the kitchen.

Cleaning was next -- namely my floors, since the house is usually orderly and only needs dusting and vacuuming, and a few sweeps of the Swiffer.

That accomplished, I got ready and before I knew it, Mike and Audrey and Dagny had arrived. I'd asked them to come a tad bit early and get the beverage bucket set up.

Rex and Rebecca and their brood pulled up in front of the house at about the same time as Cherica with Rhett and Baby Elliot.

Dagny was more than delighted to hang with her relatives

Rebecca  had asked if they could bring their dog Boaz, a fifty-pound animal whose breed I cannot remember, and I had said of course, but he'd have to stay outside.

They decided not to bring him and I was disappointed, because I've seen pictures and Boaz is super cute, but there will be time for those introductions.

Rex and Rebecca's children consist of Lydia, who is eighteen and just graduated from high school; Emilia -- she goes by Emmie -- who turned seventeen a few weeks ago; JP, who will be sixteen in August; and the aforementioned Jonathan, who is twelve.

They are a truly lovely family and I am looking forward to spending more time with them. In fact, yesterday, Rebecca brought the children over to swim! I had told them they were welcome any time.

Erica was reppin' our beloved Chicago Cubs

It's pretty hot here and their temporary quarters are small-ish, and house hunting is exhausting, and they needed a break.

TG put some planks down for them to walk (hahahaha yes I did say that) so that they could navigate the in-progress deck, and they had a ball splashing around.

The pool water is eighty-five degrees, they reported.

But back to the night of our cookout, last Thursday. Everyone assembled and TG brought in the burgers and dogs, and there were fifteen of us but I only had fourteen chairs, but somehow we made do.

Mike may have been quizzing Emmie about her Chinese roots

We loaded our plates and enjoyed our meal, talking and laughing and getting to know one another better.

For our sweet course, I had gone the easy route and picked up a huge box of Nestlé Classics frozen dessert novelties at Costco. There were drumsticks, ice cream sandwiches, and chocolate-covered ice cream bars.

And I am here to tell you that on that score, I stepped up to the plate and hit a grand-slam home run. You should have seen the children's eyes light up and the adults were chuffed too, when I brought that massive electric-blue box in from the garage freezer, and opened it up so everyone could make their choice.

Those ice creams were scrumptious. I think I'll be keeping a supply of those on hand. Easy and delicious, and best of all, handy portion control. Unless you eat two, in which case you're on your own.

I have a dandy veggie chopper that did those onions

Dagny loved the whole experience; she is a singleton who never met a stranger, so having four kids to hang out with, in addition to Rhett and Elliot, was like a vacation for her.

By the way, in case you need a wee genealogy refresher: Rebecca's children are my great-nieces and great-nephews.

I'm sure you know that but you may not know this: Since Rebecca is my children's first cousin, her children are my children's first cousins once removed.

As in, they share a set of grandparents (my mother and Henry).

Chips: the easiest side to make, haha

Rebecca's children and my grandchildren -- Dagny, Rhett, and so forth -- are second cousins. They share a set of great-grandparents (again, my mother and Henry).

(Often people become confused and believe that their cousins' children are their second cousins, but that is not the case.)

At any rate, we are family and Dagny and Rhett and even Elliot enjoyed getting to know their second cousins.

After supper and that splendid dessert, as the fireflies started winking outside, the kids got up a game of Frisbee.

Dagny hanging out with her second cousin, Emmie

We visited for a while longer before everyone headed for home, having had a truly delightful time.

Our next party was less than twenty-four hours away, so TG and I headed inside to get some rest and look forward to that.

You know I will tell you all about it in a few days.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Wednesday

Come walkies with me

Nary a leaf is stirring as I greet the dawn

I have a new routine, that I have practiced for two weeks now.

Full disclosure: I have not actually done this since last Thursday. But I plan to resume tomorrow so I think I am safe in saying that it is my new routine.

It is getting up at five thirty in the morning to walk for forty-five minutes.

I climbed a bit up into their yard to photograph these

Let's get one thing out of the way immediately: your pirate is no stripe of an early riser. She is a night owl of the first water.

I did rise early for many years, when my children were small and when I worked outside my home.

But left to my own devices, I will stay up until midnight or later, and sleep until nine o'clock in the morning.

Mind your toesies

Even then, I start out slow: Coffee and reading, and relaxing, for at least an hour after I wake up, become ambulatory, and feed my pets.

So why, you may be wondering, would I opt to get up at the exact crack of dawn and take a walk?

Because once the sun comes up, it is approximately six and a half million degrees here, with ten thousand percent humidity.

The 'hood seems full but then there's this vacant lot

I don't do the hot summer sun. With the exception of, say, walking to and from my car at a store, which cannot be avoided, or the occasional foray outside, of necessity, without hewing to the shade, I stay under cover during the hot months.

Many of you, being morning people, know the pure beauty of first light, and that lovely true morning hour.

When I open my garage door at about five forty each morning, AirPods in place, listening to a book on Audible, it is still dark out although the sky is that particular purplish-blue that presages both full day and full night.

This one is marked Do Not Disturb

As I walk, it lightens by the minute until it's three-quarters full daylight by the time I get back home -- but still no sun shining down on me.

By then it's almost six thirty. TG is still asleep, his normal rising hour being around eight o'clock.

And don't judge but after walking five thousand or so steps and taking a quick shower, I go right back to my pillow, to snooze for another hour or so.

This way Soylent Green?

Sometimes I even go all the way back to sleep, then get up at my usual nine-ish.

It's working out fine which is why you may be wondering why I was too lazy to get up before proper daylight and walk for the past four days.

Well for one, I don't walk on Sundays, so that's only three days.

It's a sleepy time of day

And two, we have had three parties since last Thursday.

I've done the preparation and cooking for all three, with the exception of Chad grilling the meat course for Dagny's birthday party on Friday night.

I'm beginning to feel as though I cannot leave my house without a cooler full of food and four dozen roses.

The sky is beginning to enchant

So the one-word answer to your query is: exhaustion.

But I'll tell you all about those parties later this week.

Now I want to talk about my walk.

Street lamps still shine up into trees

We live in a large neighborhood, the houses of which were beginning to be built fifty-odd years ago.

Ours was one of the first to go up. We have lived here since August of 2005.

The first owners of our house built it to live in, but sold it after three years.

This is the home of a United States Veteran

The Marshalls, from whom we bought it, were a young family when they purchased the house and moved in, reared their children, and lived here for thirty years.

We met the Marshalls only once, when we came to the house on the day of closing. They were senior citizens and empty-nesters by then.

Several weeks ago Erica had come to visit me and I was outside with her at her car, helping her bring the children in, when an unfamiliar pickup truck pulled into our driveway.

This landscaping though

The tall, handsome, middle-aged man wearing dress clothes, very sharp, looked vaguely familiar to me but he had to speak before I realized who he was.

He was one of the Marshall children who grew up in our house, being about eight years old when his parents moved the family there.

TG and I met him last summer when we attended a block party to chat and eat watermelon at a neighbor's house about a hundred yards from us, and he came by and was reminiscing with folks he knew.

The pirate calls this poetic planting

On this day he was accompanied by his wife, and they were coming from his mother's funeral which had taken place that morning.

I offered my condolences and urged them to come in and see the ways we'd changed the house over the years, and so they did, and he told us about the way it was back in the day.

Like most people when going back to a place they knew well as a child, he said it looked so small to him.

Crape Myrtles on parade

I assured him that it's not small when you start cleaning twenty-three hundred-plus square feet of floors.

He saw where the deck had served its purpose and was all torn up, in the throes of reconstruction, and recalled when his dad, who he described as a jackleg carpenter, originally built it.

(I don't think he meant any disrespect; it was a perfectly good deck and served us for a long time. He just meant that his dad was not trained or particularly skilled as a carpenter, but despite that, he was a hard worker and did what was necessary.)

A most charming suburban domicile

He said that his three siblings would be jealous to learn that he'd been in the old house, and been welcome there, and walked around the place that was their childhood home.

I said they could come by any time, as long as they let me know first.

Our subdivision (if you want to call it that) is full of mature trees, mostly pines but many other varieties too.

What exactly are they getting at

It has the normal assortment of floor plans and house types for a neighborhood of its age.

The thing that has always impressed me about where we live is how quiet it is. You can walk in the middle of the day and it's still quiet, but at daybreak it is still as tombs.

As I walk I'm listening to a book and progressing at a steady pace and there are several long hills to get the heart rate up, and no cars pass, and no dogs bark.

Time to turn a corner

The birds are going crazy in the trees but that's not noise; it's sweet music. I can hear them even through the narrator reading my book.

Many of the folks who live around here have those meticulously kept houses and front yards and flower beds that are a joy to behold at any time of day, but which are so calm and serene at this hour, they're like a dream.

I marvel at what some people accomplish in the way of landscaping. I lack that skill -- not to mention ambition -- in spades. See what I did there?

A fine example of creative brickwork

Lights are still shining -- safety beacons on the houses, porch lights, street lamps -- and they give such an in-between look to the hushed streets.

Fifteen minutes into my walk I come to the place where, in the near distance, a rooster is crowing his heart out into the new day. He sounds positively frantic and he is LOUD and repetitive. What a noodle.

But there's barely a hint of the sweltering heat and screaming cicadas and suburban car traffic that will rule the atmosphere just a few hours later.

These are ravings

Some utility company or other has been spray-painting on our streets for some time now.

Cryptic symbols and words and arrows and circles and triangles and dotted lines show up every few feet. Different colors are used: yellow, white, green, blue, neon orange.

I would never actually do it but part of me wants to buy a few cans of spray paint -- I think I'd use pink and purple, maybe gold -- and draw hearts and flowers all around their designs.

Perhaps the most stunning flowerbeds in the vicinity

Just to make it look a little nicer.

But do you enjoy your walk? You may be thinking now. It sounds like a pleasant enough interlude.

The answer is both yes and no.

And a second, even nicer one

My feelings land somewhere in the middle of delight and dread.

Sometimes when my alarm sounds in my pitch-dark bedroom and I come to consciousness from deep sleep, I think, I must be crazy to even think about getting up and walking down the street right now.

What about stranger danger?

When I see this, I know I'm nearly home

The early bird may get the worm like honey catches flies, but I am interested in neither worms nor flies.

I just want to sleep. So I remind myself that in a mere hour, I will be reunited with my pillow and that while getting dressed and going out to walk may be a tad bit uncomfortable, it's doubtful that I'll die.

Does it do me any good? I don't know. Does anyone know? I guess I must think it does, or I wouldn't do it. What do you think?

My own dusk-to-dawn lights are still gleaming when I get home

At any rate, over the course of a few days last week I took these pictures for you as I paraded around in the dawn light, and I hope you have enjoyed going walkies with me at break of day.

I'll be back out there tomorrow -- that is a promise -- and if you are awake at five thirty in the Eastern time zone, I hope you'll think of me.

Later in the week I promise to tell you all about our latest spate of parties.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Monday

Everything beautiful in its time

I've got you, babe

I would like to personally meet and congratulate the advertising copywriter who came up with the tagline life comes at you fast.

Does it ever.

We are currently in the throes of a wedding year, and believe me when I say, if you had told me six months ago that that would be the case, I would have said you had had too much eggnog.

Be that as it may, our beloved Audrey is engaged to be married.

Family tree

Our entire family met Mike on New Year's Eve of 2023. He came over for festive nibbles and friendly chatter on New Year's Day.

Within two weeks, he and Audrey were an item.

They became serious pretty quickly.

A trip to Paris took place the first week in May, during which Audrey and Dagny met Mike's adult children. Mike is a widower whose wife of thirty-one years passed away in 2020.

She's a leggy one

Then, on June first, Mike proposed and they became engaged.

The wedding date is November eighth.

Our heads are full of happy plans.

Being a shutterbug and wanting to memorialize this never-to-come-again time, I suggested an engagement photo shoot.

It took place last Thursday, at the Horseshoe in downtown Columbia.

With this ring

This is a beautiful location for taking pictures, and we've used it several times. There are the Greek houses and numbers of small courtyards with fountains and rose gardens.

There are live oaks and historic buildings, masses of beautiful flowers, and lots of space to walk and to pose.

TG and I got there first, but we hadn't long to wait before Mike and Audrey and Dagny joined us.

Dagny was home schooled this past year, and way back in the fall, Audrey had asked me to take her school picture.

Of course I agreed and I know this will have you scratching your head, but as of last Thursday we had yet to experience the alignment of planets that apparently was necessary to make that happen.

Our Cherica et al

We talked of it many times but there was always some impediment to Dagny and I stealing away, just the two of us, for a photo shoot.

So in planning for last Thursday, I said why don't we get some pictures of Dagny by herself too.

And then Cherica -- Chad, Erica, Rhett, and Baby Elliot a/k/a Skippy -- joined us later, in time for me to get some family shots of them. 

Erica is always eager for these, because as you know, family photos are a precious commodity.

One can never have too many of them.

I choose you

I took along my big Nikon with the powerful zoom lens, and I wore it on my person via my BLACKRAPID camera sling.

We hadn't been working for long before I became acutely aware of the prevailing meteorological conditions.

As in, it was approximately five thousand eight-hundred forty degrees, with six-hundred percent humidity.

And, the mosquitoes were biting.

I sent Dagny back to TG, who was sitting on a step near the entrance to the park, looking at his phone.

Pretty girl and pretty flowers

Ask Papaw if he'd go to the car and get my handkerchief out of my purse, I told her.

Why was my hanky not in my pocket -- I had one. A pocket, I mean, but not my hanky. Well, I had a hanky but it was in my purse in the car, which made zero sense.

Ever tried blotting your face on a humid day with a tissue?

It leaves you lint-flecked.

I give you my hand

But I'm the hanky type anyway and I have a whole stack of them, and I always carry a fresh one in my purse. Perfumed and everything.

Since the humidity was causing me to glow exceedingly, I needed to blot my brow with something that was made of cotton.

Soon enough I had my hanky and not long after that, it was damp. The hanky, I mean.

As for the mosquitoes, before long they had decorated my ankles and legs with welts where they had tasted me.

So happy together

Dagny suffered the same fate. Skeeters do not bite TG and Audrey rarely is bothered by them, but even she had some sample bites taken from her ankles.

The critters are fierce and they will be with us until the first frost -- meaning, nearly Christmas.

But we soldiered on and I don't think you can tell that Audrey and Mike were under any kind of duress.

That's because they weren't. Mike is relaxed and Audrey tends to be calm, and they were just happy to be together, anywhere.

They were fun to shoot because they did exactly what I told them and didn't care if I changed my mind mid-sentence, which I sometimes do.

Let's discuss ... I mean kiss

We paused now and then for me to get some shots of Dagny, who will turn ten this Friday and is becoming a young lady.

Where did that darling baby go? If you know, you know.

I was just about done with Maudrey when I spotted Cherica coming towards us, pushing Skippy's stroller.

We posed up near some gorgeous hydrangea bushes -- the colors! -- and took several of the little family.

When I'd done that, and got numbers of them sitting on a low wall in front of one of the mansions, I knew I had had about all I could endure of the heat and humidity combined with what for me is the arduous activity of taking pictures.

She is blossoming

It's one thing to point your phone at someone and quite another to frame the shot with a heavy camera, and to do that a hundred times in an hour.

We had planned to go out all together for our dinner, and I proclaimed that it was time to head in the direction of the restaurant.

All I had had time to eat that day was a handful of walnuts. I was hungry and thirsty.

We made our way to the Vista, which is a section of downtown Columbia along Gervais Street known for restaurants and shops and so forth.

Our destination was Grill Marks, a place we'd never been but were interested in trying.

They were exceedingly friendly and courteous there, and it wasn't long before we were seated in a pleasantly cool area at a table so long, there was room for everyone and then some.

Whither thou goest I will go

I did not take pictures of our food beause we were too busy eating it, but it was delicious. Some had burgers and a few of us had the Hot Honey Chick Plate, which I would highly recommend if you ever find yourself at Grill Marks.

I had a side order of sweet potato fries -- my one weakness, haha -- and they were superb.

We also ordered an appetizer for the table, allowing all of us to sample onion rings and fried pickles and yet more sweet potato fries, with tasty sauces.

All told, we packed a lot of goings-on into about three hours, and when we'd finished supper I was more than ready to go home and kick back.

Our Cubs were playing and TG and I watch the games on MLBTV, with a subscription. Our Cubbies are having a disappointing season so it's a good thing we were tired, and full.

Focused on you

I thought you might enjoy seeing a variety of the pictures I got at our shoot, and I hope that you have.

There are a mere two days until Dagny's birthday party on Friday -- and -- would you believe? -- there is another party BEFORE Dagny's party. As in, tomorrow evening.

I'll tell you all about it in due time.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Wednesday

Color me confused ... and a tale of two Chloes

Signed, sealed, delivered ... it's mine

I have felt on several occasions of late that I am sojourning in a land of strangeness and crossed signals.

But lest you think I have become a permanent resident of the State of Confusion (which, I assure you, is not the case ... yet), I have sprinkled throughout this post several things which do not confuse me in the slightest.

Just so you know.

So let's get started.

About ten days ago I decided to hunt for a few cosmetic items online.

You're lucky that I do not tell you all about how strange my recent physical visits to the Chanel and Lancôme and Clinque counters were, at Dillard's at Columbiana Mall.

Suffice it to say, it ran from quaintly amusing to faintly bizarre. No need to say anything further, lest I bore you, my cherished readers.

So, needing to re-purchase a few products I have used in the past, but wanting to switch up my shade because I thought I could do better than the one I am already using, and earnestly desiring to complete the transaction without leaving my house, I began studying the color charts for one of the foundation formulas on Clinique's website.

As I said, I didn't necessarily want to get the same color I already had, and felt I could do better, as in a tad bit lighter.

(I am fair-skinned. Deal with it. I do not identify as a fair-skinned person; I was born this way. Which is to say, my stated skin color is the actual truth.)

The charts showed ladies of various ages and skin tones, and displayed pictures of how they looked both before and after a certain shade of makeup was applied to their face.

It was as helpful as online pictures can be, and I was doing all right until I saw this:

Say again?

OK excuse me? How exactly is this going to help me choose a makeup shade?

Look. I have no problem with this young man's appearance; that is not my point so settle down if you have concluded that I am making fun of him. I'm not.

My point is that, while I'm sure there are some boys who wear foundation and they're free to do that if they want, the overwhelming majority of people on the Clinique website to select a makeup shade are female.

I don't even have to see their internal site statistics to know that. It's just a fact.

And even if half the people searching for foundation were male, this picture of a freckled boy wearing face makeup (I assume; it's not as though you can tell) is not helping anyone choose a shade.

And it makes me wonder: What is being said or implied here? What's the takeaway? 

If you are able to figure it out, please offer any explanation that comes to mind. I will wait.

Because I remain, as originally stated, well and truly confused.

Then there was the Amazon delivery, last Friday. I was lolling in the TV room with Erica and the boys while our men toiled outside, working on our still-under-construction deck, when the doorbell rang.

I went to the door and standing on my front porch was an Amazon delivery person.

Dagny with Elliot at church on Memorial Day Sunday

A small box had been placed at my door, as per usual, but he was waiting for something.

I get a fair number of Amazon deliveries and this was the first time the doorbell was rung and a delivery person poised at the threshold with an expectant look on their face.

I said, pleasantly enough I think, and half in jest: Is this something new? Y'all ring the doorbell when you make a delivery now?

And he said, You requested it.

? ? ? ? ?

I said, Um, no, I didn't. Why would I do that? And besides, I haven't got the slightest idea HOW to do that.

Because that's the truth: I don't.

He was holding his phone in his hand as most people do now, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, three-hundred sixty-five days a year, so I had no reason to think it had anything to do with me.

I picked up my package (which, because I know you're curious, contained a 33-ounce Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day Hand Soap Refill, Lemon Verbena Scent), and turned to go back inside.

So you're refusing to sign? he said.

? ? ? ? ?

I turned back around and asked him what he meant. I had not refused to sign; I had not been asked to sign.

Rhett at Elmwood Cemetery on Memorial Day morning

It requires your signature, he said.

I paused, thinking, Please someone make this make sense. But I said: What would you have done if I were not here to sign?

I would have called Support, he said.

? ? ? ? ?

Honestly folks, I was flummoxed. Again: I do not know how to request that a signature be exchanged for a delivery. Even if I did, I would not request that.

And I've never ever been asked to sign for anything before. Not even once, in all the years I have received Amazon deliveries.

What I have had is electronic notices that my item has been delivered, claiming that it was "handed directly to a resident" when it was not, in fact, delivered until the next day and shoved into my mailbox.

What I have had is notices that my item was late because "delivery was attempted" but could not be completed because there was some hindrance to delivery, as if they had been prevented from walking up the steps and putting the package down.

I have had my item delivered to neighbors, requiring me to go and hunt for it.

I have had my neighbors' items delivered to me, requiring me to re-deliver them.

All of that I have experienced more than once, at the hand of Amazon. But never have I been told that my signature was required and that I had requested this action.

Erica's birthday is May 30th ... we celebrate on Memorial Day

Be that as it may, fortunes had been made and squandered in the length of time that had transpired since I had opened my door to the Amazon delivery person, so I scribbled on the line displayed on his phone and finally he left me in peace with my soap.

If you can shed any light on that whole exchange, I would again be eternally grateful.

So I went to the kitchen and opened the box and got out my soap and refilled the dispenser on the sink, without spilling any, all the while pondering the situation, then rejoined Erica in the TV room where she was holding Elliot and watching Rhett play.

It was around that time that my friend Andrea from church contacted me via text.

My dear friend Andrea, through no fault of her own, has a certain disability that makes written communication with her challenging, her texts often being difficult to decode.

This one involved a question about whether I was "going to the wedding tomorrow?" which I suspected that Andrea's mother had ghost-written.

So I asked her what wedding she meant, since my only knowledge of an imminent wedding was not the next day (this past Saturday, June ninth), but the next Saturday, June fifteenth.

She replied: Chloe D, except she gave Chloe D's whole last name.

Chloe D is a young lady in our church who I know only slightly, and hers were the nuptials I knew to be looming. TG and I are not invited to the wedding.

But Erica knows Chloe D quite well, since Chloe goes to Cherica's house for several hours one day a week, to look after the boys while Erica runs errands and has some free time.

Birthday balloons always make sense

Since Erica was sitting right there with me when I heard from Andrea, I double-checked that Chloe D's wedding was taking place not the next day, but a week from the next day.

Erica confirmed that Chloe D's wedding was set for the fifteenth, so I texted that information to Andrea, who I figured had got her wires crossed. Or, like me, did not receive an actual invitation, but had only heard of the wedding through the church grapevine.

A wedding! I love weddings! (That's a line uttered by Captain Jack Sparrow in Pirates of the Caribean: Curse of the Black Pearl.)

So Andrea texted back OK and I figured that was settled. Crisis averted.

Several hours later though, after the Chericas had gone home, Audrey and Mike and Dagny came over and we were sitting around having coffee. All we do at my house is sit around.

I relayed to Audrey the story of Andrea texting, asking if I were going to Chloe's wedding tomorrow, and Erica assuring me that Chloe's wedding is next Saturday, and my texting Andrea to tell her as much.

I wanted to know if she and Mike had been invited to the wedding.

No, but Chloe IS getting married tomorrow, Audrey said.

She told me that she knew this for a fact because Miss Pat was involved in the wedding and therefore was attending the rehearsal and dinner that very night. 

(Miss Pat is a lady whose house Audrey cleans every Friday. We have known Miss Pat since 2002, when we moved to Columbia. Her husband served as our realtor when we bought our current house.)

It was exceptionally sweet but we ate it with glee

Oh no! I said. I told Andrea that it was not tomorrow, but next Saturday!

I quickly texted my friend Andrea, who, trust me, is much more easily confused than I.

I was mistaken, I said. Chloe's wedding IS tomorrow. I won't be there. Do you have an invitation?

A few moments later she responded: 15.

That's typical so I am pretty sure I had a puzzled look on my face, and not for the first time that day.

I called Erica, and had her on speaker phone but she had only said Hello? when Audrey, for whom the nickel had just dropped, blurted:

No it's Chloe G tomorrow (only, she said Chloe G's whole last name)! Chloe G is getting married in the morning!

A different Chloe.

Audrey iterated that the reason she knew this is that she had talked that very day to Miss Pat, who was set to be the stand-in for Chloe G's late grandmother at the wedding the next day, and therefore was attending the rehearsal that night.

I am sure that I looked positively brainless at that moment but I managed to sputter to Erica: Never mind! We had a mixup! Chloe G is tomorrow and Chloe D is next week as was originally and so beautifully planned (that's a line uttered by Tracy Lord in The Philadelphia Story), and now I have led Andrea astray and I have to fix it!

Erica with her boys on her birthday

I texted Andrea back once more and risked her eternal mental discombobulation by telling her that there had been a mixup and that Chloe D's wedding was indeed a week from Saturday, and we'd been talking about another Chloe -- Chloe G -- who was getting married the next day.

(Chloe G is well known to all of us. She is the granddaughter of the late pastor of the church we attended when we first moved to Columbia in 2002. It's three miles from the church we all attend now. Her late grandmother is the one who Miss Pat, a friend of our entire family, was standing in for at the wedding the next day.)

(BTW I have never heard of having a stand-in for a late family member at a wedding. Have you? I've heard of a rose on a seat representing their absence and the fact that they're missed, but not an actual person. I'm perplexed. But what else is new?)

(And not for nothing but to confuse matters you further, my friend Andrea was once engaged to be married to the son of Miss Pat and her husband, our realtor, who also suffers a mild disability that is in no way his fault. The son, not the realtor.)

Andrea wrote back: 15.

I know that she will hand the phone to her mother when I write too many words, so I was not worried.

And Chloe G did get married last Saturday, and is now Mrs. Chloe W.

Chloe D is all set to get married this Saturday, and our Cherica will be there as she becomes Mrs. Chloe S.

A picture of Sweetness. Her, I understand.

Who's on first? You tell me because I haven't the remotest idea.

Everything I think and everything I do is wrong. That's a line uttered by Cher Horowitz in Clueless.

But at least we have enough soap.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Monday

D-Day plus eighty years and a day

June 6, 1944 :: A day of gratitude and rejoicing

As a gift for her college graduation in 2005, Audrey was treated by my mother to a trip to France.

The two of them went together and, once they were settled into their hotel, joined a week-long guided tour of Paris and surrounding areas.

Of all the places she was privileged to visit on that trip, the one that meant the most to Audrey was Normandy.

When she got back home, TG and I sat with her at the kitchen table as she wept when telling us about the thousands of white crosses at the Normandy American Cemetery.

Audrey told us of her acute disappointment on the day of her visit to Normandy with her grandmother.

My mom was upset because there was no quiet; a great deal of maintenance was being done at the memorials and the cemetery alike, and the noise bothered her.

(Someday I'll tell you about the time TG took me to a cemetery in upstate New York that I had wanted to visit for many years. A dream came true on that day but circumstances nearly ruined it for me until I figured out how to deal with it.)

Exacerbating the cacophony at Normandy on the day my mom and Audrey were there in June of 2005 was the fact that the tour had been running behind since the morning, and what was supposed to be a much lengthier stay at the beaches turned into a scant hour. 

I cherish this souvenir given to me by my daughter

Not nearly long enough. Audrey says that if you go to Normandy, plan to stay for at least one whole day.

At any rate, the sacrifices made by Allied troops at Normandy on D-Day boggle the mind, even now.

My daughter presented me with the resin statue which I cherish, depicting an American soldier being given flowers by a Parisian child on June 6, 1944, the day of France's liberation after four years of occupation by German forces.

Years ago TG and I watched the movie Saving Private Ryan on TV. The opening sequence of that film left me speechless and in tears. I almost wish I'd never seen it, but at the same time I am glad I did.

The Higgins boats crammed with young men -- and boys -- approaching the shores of the beaches where the heavily fortified Germans were shooting from positions in the hills, while fire also rained on their heads from the sky, is a scene that anyone who values their freedoms should contemplate on purpose, from time to time.

Later I said to TG -- who, if one becomes a student of a subject by reading dozens of books about it over a period of decades, is a student of World War II -- that if the reality of June 6, 1944 was even half of what was acted out in the film, it's difficult to comprehend how desperate a situation it was.

He said, It was exactly like that. And probably worse.

It happened eighty years ago, yesterday.

Soon all those who survived that engagement with the enemy in that place on that day, will be gone. There are a few thousand left across the world, the youngest of whom are in their late nineties.

Never again have so few done so much for so many

In my opinion, the day that the last veteran of that conflict passes away, will be a tragic day for the world. We will never see the likes of them again.

We owe all of our gratitude for every joy we have known in this life, to God and also to them.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Friday :: Happy Weekend

Some have gardenias thrust upon them

These are the first yield of my miniature gardenia bush

What was it Shakespeare said?

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.

Well I was not born a gardenia, but I have achieved a few gardenias, and I have certainly had gardenias thrust upon me.

When TG and I were married on June 16, 1979, in a suburb of Atlanta, I carried a huge bouquet of gardenias.

A lady in our church picked them that morning from bushes near a country fence.

It really was exquisite. And ever since then, the aroma of the gardenias says a southern summer and romance, to me.

The gardenia is still my favorite flower.

So it was that several years ago TG planted a miniature gardenia bush out back for me. It blooms every late May and early June, with smaller versions of the standard gardenia.

As soon as I see their creamy white petals, I pick what has bloomed that day, do a little dead heading, and bring in enough flowers for perhaps two small bowls full.

They decorate the air in the house for a day or two, maybe three, and then they wilt and I replace them with new blooms.

It doesn't last long as they bloom for a relatively short time, but I enjoy them so much while they're with me.

My neighbors across the street, Craig and Catherine, have a regulation-sized gardenia bush that is huge -- six or seven feet high.

It's positioned in a corner on the side, where the house meets the beginning of their fence and deck.

I don't think they ever see it. But since that side faces my house, I drool over those flowers every year.

Our neighbor Craig said that I could have these

This year I decided to march over there and ask Craig if I could plunder that gardenia bush before all of the flowers turned brown. He's usually outside.

He was sitting on the front porch looking at his phone.

Of course he said yes, I could take all the gardenias I wanted. I think they like the shade over there, he said.

That may well be.

So I picked enough for one huge bunch that I wanted to put in a jar/vase that used to belong to my mother.

I had been enjoying it all day when, towards evening, TG and I decided to take a walk.

On the way I saw another huge pair of gardenia bushes right at the edge of someone's property.

The flowers were going to slap me in the face as I walked by, so I stealth-picked a few.

I was enjoying smelling them as we walked along, listening to the cicadas and getting some exercise.

Presently we passed the house of another neighbor with whom I'm vaguely familiar.

He had just gotten home and was chatting with his own next-door neighbor.

Turned out he'd driven by ten minutes before, past TG and me just as I was plucking a few extra gardenias from the bush with a glut of them, earlier in our walk.

I saw you picking those down the road, he said. I've got a bush full of them in the back and you're welcome to all you can carry.

Being lousy with gardenias already back at the house, I should have said: Awww, thanks but I'm good! I got a whole bunch from another neighbor earlier today!

But envisioning heaps of additional creamy, fragrant gardenias, and feeling greedy, I said I'd come back in my car after TG's and my walk, with something to carry them in.

And so I did, and as it turned out, most of his gardenias had wilted and were well on their way to turning brown.

I didn't even have to ask for this bunch ... they were offered

But there were some good ones and I got enough for another large vaseful, which later at home I placed beside my bed.

I also picked up some mosquito bites, but that's par for the course.

And now, for a few days, I have more gardenias than you have had hot dinners.

You smell the flowers the moment you open the door, and their fragrance wafts throughout the cool house.

I wonder how long I'll be able to keep this up.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Wednesday

She said yes

They became engaged near the statue of Wade Hampton on his horse

Mike and Audrey are engaged to be married.

He proposed on Saturday evening after a fine dinner, as they walked on the grounds of the South Carolina State House, where they walked on a mild evening in late January after another special dinner date.

The ring is dainty, with a near-flawless diamond set between two sapphires, in platinum.

Audrey wanted a low-profile ring

They have set a date of November 8, 2024, for the wedding.

We're doing an official engagement shoot later this week, so I'll share more pictures later. But I will tell you now that we are all thrilled.

Congratuations, Maudrey!

And that is all for now.

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The days that make us happy make us wise.

= John Masefield =

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Happy Monday