Blessed silence and oh, there's our umbrella

The last two days were busy ones here at Casa Weber.

Around suppertime on Monday, Stephanie arrived from North Carolina with the three older grandchildren to spend a few nights and swim in the pool.

Dagny therefore spent the night with us on Monday night too, so as not to miss a single moment of summer fun with the cousins.

It was a hot day on Tuesday and the kids were splish-splashing by nine o'clock in the morning.

Stephanie and I supervised and I even got in with the children for an hour or so. Then it was time to make a hot dog lunch and serve it poolside at our heavy metal patio table that seats six.

It's shaded by a market umbrella which stands upright through a hole in the center of the table and fits into a solid base on the ground beneath the table.

It's a tilting umbrella and we learned years ago, the hard way, that if you tilt your umbrella on a windy day, the wind can cause the umbrella to tip over your entire table.

So we don't tilt it on windy days. Smart. And speaking in general terms, we've also learned that once you've finished using the umbrella on any given day, it's best to wind it down and secure it with an elastic-with-plastic-balls thing that we use to keep it closed.

And most days, we remember to do that. So smart.

Except that yesterday, it was so hot that we may have left the umbrella unfurled. After hot dogs and chips and watermelon and soda and so forth, the kids paddled around for a bit longer and then I made Dagny go down for a nap.

Which she did without the ghost of a fuss.

The other children were allowed to swim for an additional half-hour but by two thirty, I said the pool was closed and they had to lie down for a while too, whether they slept or simply rested.

The reason being, one, it was direct sizzle on the pool and even though they were wearing long-sleeved shirts to protect their backs and arms and their mother had slathered sun scream (Dagny's term) on their faces more than once during the course of the day, I was worried they'd get sunburn.

Two, we were going for dinner at Texas Roadhouse at eight o'clock to celebrate Chad's birthday. Our entire party would number sixteen what with Chad's family and ours, and it would be a late night because after the party we planned to drive out to Chad and Erica's house to see their new wood floors.

So it was that the pool area was left dripping with soggy towels, littered with floaties, and baking in the June sun for the remainder of the afternoon.

Seven o'clock in the evening found me at home alone (except for Rizzo) getting ready for our dinner out. TG had gone to church visitation; Stephanie and the kids had gone with Audrey and Dagny to see their new wood floors and other improvements in their new house.

Everybody would meet up again at the restaurant.

Only, at about that time, there blew up a thunderstorm that was not only one of the stronger ones we've seen this season, but one of the longer ones too. This was not your average thunder-dunder.

It raged for at least fifty minutes. Trees thrashed and floaties flew into the landscaping. A towel ended up at the bottom of the pool.

Around seven forty-five I texted the girls that I wasn't sure I was keen to drive in the weather. Maybe I'd be just a couple of minutes late.

Soon afterwards I heard the cicadas screaming from the trees once more, signaling that the rain had abated and the storm had moved off to the east.

You don't hear a peep out of those bugs during wild weather but the second it's over? Commence cacophony.

Once I was ready and just waiting to leave, I went to look out of the double mostly-glass doors in the kitchen that lead out to the deck and pool.

And I noticed that something was missing. Our market umbrella was gone. The outdoor table looked so odd without it.

I knew right away what had happened. The umbrella had been lifted -- fully open as it was -- by the wind and deposited somewhere. But it wasn't in the pool area, and although I went around the house, both upstairs and down, looking out of every window, it didn't appear to be anywhere else in our yard either.

Oh dear.

TG and I looked again, with a flashlight, all around the pool area after we got home late that night. We looked over the privacy fence on one side, into the yard of our neighbors to the east. The umbrella wasn't there.

This morning I even went far enough from the back of the house that I could see up onto the roof.

The umbrella wasn't there.

The children (minus Dagny) swam for about twenty minutes this morning before being chased from the pool by raindrops. It was time for them to leave for home anyway.

As I was walking with Stephanie, Melanie, Allissa, and Andrew to their van, Stephanie looked back and spotted the corner of what appeared to be an umbrella peeking from the side-yard privacy fence beside the house of our neighbors to the west.

Is that it? she said.

I looked. And it was. Hallelujah. Not only did our cream-with-black-border umbrella appear safe and unharmed, but it hadn't flown somewhere far away and done some sort of damage to someone else's property.

Which would've been most unfortunate and to make it worse, we wouldn't have known who or where or what, in order to make amends.

As it was, our umbrella, once lifted by the strong wind, had been carried only about thirty feet and deposited in a small area between their house and our common fence where it appears our neighbors toss things like coolers and lawn chairs and maybe even possum traps.

Ah well. It's found. When TG comes home, I'll show him where the umbrella is. He can ring the neighbor's doorbell and point and explain, and retrieve our stray property.

I am busy enjoying the unique and special quiet of grands-gone-home and taking the opportunity to read a book.

At least I was, until I went outside to take pictures of our found umbrella, and to tell you about it.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Wednesday

Four on the floor

So as I mentioned, Dagny turned four and even before she was officially four, we celebrated with a trip to Atlanta's Georgia Aquarium.

That was Monday and Tuesday of birthday week.

On Wednesday, birthday eve, following prayer meeting, we celebrated with Chad and Erica at Chick-fil-A. 

On Thursday, Dag's actual birthday, she and her mother came over in the evening for a swim party and festive summer meal. I'd also bought a small cake -- tiny in fact, because on that same day, I had ordered a larger cake to take to Charlotte on the next evening, for her family birthday party with the aunts and uncles and cousins.

So on the day, it was just TG and me, the birthday girl, and her mommy. Audrey and I took her out on the front porch and made her pose for her Official Birthday Photo, of which there are many instead of one.

I could not choose.

She opened a couple of presents that night and saved some for the big party yet to come. Do you remember when a child's birthday involved one, perhaps two gifts? Hmmmm. Now, that's just the appetizer.

We managed to spread Dagny's birthday over an entire week. She was incredulous when Saturday and Sunday came and it was no longer all about her, and presents, and cake. Her expression was one of mild chagrin.

Child, I said. Oy. Give it up. Your birthday is over for this year.

I was met with a plaintive stare. Mercy. Kids these days.

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Let's pull over and park here for a mo. It's been a while since we did that.

Speaking of kids these days, there's a great deal of vitriol being spewed by the lying leftist hate-mongering progressives about children being separated from their law-breaking parents at the southern border of our great land.

I have one thing two things some things to say about that:

When you attempt to enter any country illegally, either alone or bringing in tow whomever you choose to accompany you, you should expect to encounter immediate opposition by law enforcement of said country. Up to and including imprisonment until you get yourself sorted out.

Why would anyone entertain hopes of a more propitious, less perilous outcome for themselves or their offspring, or whomever comes with them? The United States of America is a country of laws. Our laws must be enforced. If you did not have the incredible good fortune to be born here, you must apply for the right to live here through legal channels, or face the consequences.

And if the leftist progressive nut cases are so concerned about children being separated from their parents, where is the outrage for the sixty-plus million children who have been ripped from their mothers' wombs -- forget their arms; they never got that far -- and died as a consequence?

Where is the fake compassion, the endless virtue signaling, for them?

Abortion is legal. Entering the US without proper documents isn't. So, obeying the law is good if it results in the deaths of unwanted children, but bad if it places the children of illegals detained at the border, in a separate facility until their parents are dealt with?

You can't make this stuff up.

And we could go on and on, if we had the time, about the children who live in perpetual anguish and fear due to gang violence and related horrors in cities such as Chicago, Detroit, Philadelphia -- and that's not even the Left Coast -- because of leftist progressive policies that have turned their streets into war zones over the course of the last seventy years. Tens of thousands of children separated from their parents by the direst of daily circumstances, not to mention commonplace occurrences such as drug/alcohol addiction and homicide.

As for open borders? The leftist progressives want that because they're determined to never lose another election. To never again have to deal with a duly-elected president who has the audacity to think that our existing immigration laws should be enforced. They don't care what comes next for Americans when that scenario becomes a reality.

Stand strong, Mr. Trump. Enforce our laws. The leftist progressives will keep howling for your blood, and for that of your family members, but be resolute and do what is right. Build the WALL.

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Back to birthday week. It may be over, but the telling about it isn't.

So, last Thursday evening found the four of us out by (and in) the pool, celebrating Dagny turning four. We brought the teensy store-bought vanilla bean cake outside and lit the candles.

We sang. I thought I was videoing that with my phone, but in fact I was not. Apologies. If I had, I'd share.

As we swam and sang and snacked on cake, and Dagny opened one or two of her gifts, the solar lights I have planted in abundance around the pool area began to twinkle on. 

One of the wedding lamp posts with double gaslight-look bulbs has been placed on the small patio outside the sun room, and it comes on with a timer, at dusk, adding even more drama. It stands very tall but looks dwarfed by the big planter because when I took that picture (with my phone) I was in the pool.

On the next afternoon, we all set out for the North Carolina/South Carolina border, the metropolitan Charlotte area, where there's a Culver's and a Cracker Barrel. On this occasion we opted for dinner at Cracker Barrel. With Stephanie and Joel and the other three grands, that made a total of thirteen.

When we'd sung to Dag (again) and she'd blown out her pink glitter candle in the shape of the number four, and we'd all eaten our cake, we went outside to the rocking chairs for Dagny to open the rest of her gifts.

She got at least three pretty dresses. Her mother gave her a pink scooter with light-up wheels. Andrew and Brittany came through with a betta fish and his gear, which was received with enthusiasm:

Eventually we all kissed and hugged and said our goodbyes and parted until the next pawty. Which is actually set for this coming Tuesday, which is our son-in-law Chad's birthday. The shindig will take place at our local Texas Roadhouse.

I haven't forgotten that I promised to tell you about where we went in Atlanta besides the Georgia Aquarium and our awesome hotel. I think you'll like it. And we're not done with wedding photos either.

Be patient and wait.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Friday :: Happy Summer

Four with a flourish. And fish.

Our Dagny has had a birthday. Last Thursday she turned four.

To mark the occasion, we had long planned a trip to the Georgia Aquarium in Atlanta.

Our thinking was that Dagny has plenty of clothes and toys and other possessions (although we did buy her one more church dress), and is now old enough to appreciate and remember an experience.

So it was that TG and Audrey and Dagny and I set out for Atlanta over the weekend before the actual birthday.

We'd bought our tickets in advance and were thrilled at the prospect of getting up close to aquatic animals such as sea lions and otters and dolphins and penguins and so forth and so on.

We stayed at a Drury Inn, which, in addition to comfortable and well-appointed rooms, features free breakfasts and dinners. Since we are chow hounds, this was a big draw.

(Dagny liked the elevator, which she consistently called the lift. She talks like a Brit.)

And when I say breakfast I mean breakfast: as in, eggs and sausage, biscuits and gravy, potatoes, grits, donuts, hot and cold cereal, made-to-order Belgian waffles, juices and coffee. All delicious and in abundance.

As for dinner, on the evening of our arrival there were soups and salad items, baked potatoes, and hot dogs. If you wanted something more substantial, there were warm soft tortillas with grilled chicken, black beans, spanish rice, and sour cream, plus nacho chips with hot melty cheese.

Also there was theater-style popcorn and fountain soft drinks any time you fancied that type of between-meals treat.

What say you to that? No need to go out to eat, and we didn't. I imagine it would get old if one were to face the same fare day after day for any length of time, but for a few days it was enjoyable.

Having rested well and after a fantastic breakfast on our only full day in Atlanta, we set out for the aquarium. Some accounts claim the Georgia Aquarium is the largest in the world; I doubt that but I'm pretty sure it's among the top three.

From a central area that seems to occupy acres, one traipses off down convoluted corridors crammed with million-gallon tanks stuffed with fish and various other exotic marine creatures.

I was fascinated with the sting rays.

At least I think that's what those are. There were manta rays too but I don't believe I took a picture of one. They look different at the front of their body. 

The important thing to remember is that they are spooky looking. Like rubbery flying saucer-y things fluttering through the water scaring everything in their path.

At the same time, their underside resembles a goofy, friendly face.

God has a sense of humor. But then, we already knew that, having seen the platypus.

If there were platypuses at the Georgia Aquarium, we missed them. But there was significant sea turtle action.

Click to embiggen these larger pictures.

I'm pretty sure this tank holds more than six million gallons of water.

That's so that major players like this whale shark have room to navigate.

Speaking of which, look at these weird fish. The one seemed to be nosing the other one into that corner and denying him the right to swim away.

Not very neighborly. Or maybe a touch too neighborly. Either way, they freaked me out.

Dagny was duly dazzled by it all.

We saw SCUBA-geared divers working in the multi-million-gallon tanks.

The neon-colored small fish seemed to relish the divers' visit.

Jellyfish were showing off in nonconformist fashion as usual.

They got their wires crossed but never seemed to mind.

Starfish lounge all over one another when they're not plastering themselves to the glass.

And this is a seadragon.

Haaaaaahahaha. He's not content to copy all the others either. I admire his attitude.

We took a break. Dagny and Papaw horsed around.

Dagny posed again, in front of yet another fish wall.

I couldn't get enough of the beluga whales.

They seemed so quirky and playful.

All white is more than all right.

There was a pair of them.

Another thing I have a hard time walking away from is the puffins.

That face! It's just too cute. I can't stand it.

Way to go with the winged eyeliner. So very fashion forward. But then, it's easy to get noticed when your eyes match your beak, which match your webbed feet, all in Day-glo orange.

The penguins are more sedate.

Nowhere to go and nothing to prove.

There's lots of standing around. Contemplating.

And/or napping.

The sea otters were polar opposites of the penguins.

They barely stopped swimming and skidding and jumping and cavorting long enough for me to get a decent picture of them. This one was not going to give up that red chew bone.

Later, Dagny posed beside a display that lit up if you touched it, to illustrate bioluminescent sea creatures.

Dagny was glowing too.

Naturally we enjoyed the dolphin show and the sea lion show -- both amazing -- but you're not allowed to take pictures inside those theaters.

And so we didn't. 

Eventually we'd seen it all and exited the massive aquarium to see stormy skies over Atlanta.

That's the top fourth of the Bank of America building, seen from the aquarium parking garage.

There was some traffic but we weren't far from our hotel so the ride was not long.

The next morning, we made one stop before heading home. I'll tell you more about that later this week.

And it wasn't even Dagny's birthday yet. More pawtying celebrating was to come.

I'll fill you in on those details later too.

But that is all for now.

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Happy Tuesday

Low and inside

Sorry to have made you wait so long for this post. It's not even officially summer yet and here at Casa Weber we are immersed in pawtying summer activities to the point that I don't have time to report on all of them.

But that's no excuse. You need to know that a monster was found in my closet.

Not my clothes closet. Actually not in either of my clothes closets (because yes, I have two).

The monster was discovered (by me, more's the pity) lurking in a linen closet just outside our upstairs guest bath.

The sight of a large blackish lizard chilling on the floor of a dark, enclosed space where I store linens and also a great deal of my jewelry (because yes, I own so much jewelry that significant quantities of it is stashed amongst the bath towels), was unsettling.

It was a happy coincidence that TG was even at that moment wending his way home. I knew this because I had just talked to him.

It wouldn't be hours, but mere minutes, before I could point (from a distance) at the door behind which the thing lay, and demand request that my hero perform a bit of emergency animal control.

He caught it in a Mason jar and brought it outside where I was waiting, lest the thing get loose in the house and chase me.

Dagny had arrived for a visit by then, and began shouting ewwwwwwwww! top-of-the-lungs-ish as soon as she figured out what was going on.

Anyway. Now that the crisis has been averted and I was not found having perished (or at least been rendered unconscious) of shock and fright on the upstairs landing with a giant lizard gloating nearby, we can move on.

Outside, where lizards belong permanently, I have added a bistro set to our front porch. I hope you like it.

Our front porch is long but narrow. The chairs and table I'd put out there a few years ago were -- let's face it -- too big for the space. 

Every time you wanted to walk by, you had to move one of the chairs. It wasn't working.

So those chairs and their matching table are now out back, by the pool, where they form another seating area apart from the table with the umbrella over it.

When you come to visit me, you may now sit either at that table (with a snack of course), or on the swing, or in one of two zero-gravity outdoor recliners, or in one of the aforementioned chunky chairs, which are rockers.

And we will make sure that, no matter where you choose to sit, no lizards get on you.

On the front porch however, it's a bistro set which means that's where we'll go for coffee and a chat. Maybe a hummingbird will drop by for a slurp from the feeder hanging nearby.

When dusk falls, the Edison lights I've strung on the banister will come on and we'll be able to still see one another while we swat mosquitoes.

Charlie Mather Photography

The Edison lights decorated the cake-table area at Erica's wedding reception, and no, I haven't forgotten that I still need to tell you more about that occasion.

Let's save it for next time. I promise not to make you wait too long.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Wednesday

Kiss me, you fool

What Theda Bara actually said was Kiss me, my fool! but we won't go all cinematically technical.

Her utterance entered the culture as you fool and there it has remained.

It was before talkies anyway, so no one except the cast and crew even heard it.

But I digress.

The point is, I adore pictures of people kissing. I'm sort of obsessed with them.

Bet you didn't know that. But now you do.

So here you go: two pictures of newlyweds Chad and Erica.

One kissing and one not. But about to.

Yeah they're posed and shamelessly sentimental, but don't we love it? Kissed in the garden, at sunset, while wearing a wedding dress. Awww.

Click to embiggen those. If you dare.

In the way of backstory, I find it amusing that my daughter chose as her wedding reception venue a well-known (in this region) botanical garden.

I can't grow a blade of grass, much less a flower or anything else all grow-y plant-y garden-y. 

Just cannot do it. Know better than to try. The result will be withered, brown, twisted, dead sticks.

This has been proved more times than you've had hot dinners.

Somebody help me.

But smooching? That I can do. And it appears that the apple didn't fall far from the tree.

And so until I have time to share more wedding pictures ...

... wait for it ...

That is all for now.

x

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Happy Tuesday