Mama always had a fern on her front deck and this was made in July, 2005. She was pointing to something growing in front of the deck, something "chartreuse color" but she didn't know what it was. The humming noise in the background is Mike's lawnmower. Oh, and that's me, saying, "You're pulling all the leaves off." I was just trying to get her to say something. Of course she wasn't pulling them all off! Her ferns were always so pretty. I think Mike and Marsha always got her one for Mother's Day, so this is probably that year's gift. I finally could make out what she said at the end: "Don't be doing that, Pat." I was always "doing that" with the camera. I'm glad I did.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Labor Day Weekend - Fri/Sat
Paul and I picked up BBQ nachos from Hay's yesterday evening and took them to Dick and Jean's to eat at their house. I'd never had BBQN and they were good - I got two orders for all four of us and it was plenty. Jean had baked beans, fresh tomatoes, and Edy's ice cream. When we left, we ran into Jeff Brawner and stopped to ask about Christy. She'd dislocated a hip in a car accident about three or four weeks ago (I don't know exactly when it happened), but she has already gone back to school, teaching. She's on crutches and does her teaching while seated. Jeff said she would rather be sitting at school than sitting at home on the couch. Their oldest daughter Anna had done a school report on city officials or the mayor, and Mary Bob said she had done her homework and knew who the mayor was. Mary Bob told her that she and Larry knew the mayor and she was just astounded! Paul told Jeff he planned to stop by sometime and give little Anna a personal visit!
This morning I was going to take Bitty to the vet for her annual shots, but of course couldn't find her. I think she knows when it's time to go for her check-up. Paul had seen her earlier in the morning, but I couldn't rouse her from any of her usual places. (She showed up about noon, an hour too late to go to CCVC.)
Paul worked in the yard this morning, mowing and edging. I went through my closet and pulled a few tops out that I thought Sher might like. I'll take them to her tomorrow.
I didn't hear from Bren yesterday, but I know their Aunt Gen's funeral was yesterday, so I did't expect to. She said Austin and Andrew, her grandsons, would be two of the pallbearers.
Okay. So I turned on the slow cooker and put the pork tenderloin in the oven. So? At least I had turned the oven on, too.
Our neighbor's granddaughters and a friend were playing in their yard; Oscar and I went over to say hello. (There is a fence between yards, and I told the girls to watch their fingers/hands through the chain link. Too much for O!) Molly, Blair's friend said, "She's (Hallie) six, and we're nine - way older." Hallie was hanging from a low limb on a tree, pretty blond hair cascading in straight shafts of goldenness. Oh, to be able to hang upside down again without the world tilting!
Pork tenderloin, purple hull peas, creamed potatoes, cornbread, slaw, squash, tomatoes, iced tea. A regular Sunday dinner. What was I thinking? Occasionally I actually do cook real food, especially on the weekend and Sunday in particular. I'm looking forward to eating at Olive Garden tomorrow with the folks; so today I thought I'd cook while I have time. (A thought I've had more than once: Bren was a city girl and moved to the country, learned the ways of the farm; I was a country girl, moved to the city, learned the ways of convenient supermarket aisles! When we were in school I never would have thought I'd see her riding around on a Chuckwagon, if they existed then. On our Girls' Weekend we plan to ride all over her New Prospect Hill on them, Arthur allowing.)
We asked Dick and Jean to let Oscar out if we see we'll be late getting back tomorrow. This involves a trick or two because Oscar just goes wild when someone comes to the door. First we'll leave treats in a baggy taped to the door (we used to do this when Richard took O out on the leash), then D/J will sort of pitch the treat inside the door once they get it opened, then they will not make eye contact with Oscar or try to pet him. Once he's gone outside and done his business, they'll just let him back inside, possibly having saved a treat to distract him while they close and lock the door. Pitiful. It isn't that Oscar doesn't like people, he is just not used to anyone other than us. He doesn't "belong" to anyone else. But thanks, D/J, for agreeing to do this. But maybe you won't have to do it anyway.