Time well spent

It's been almost a month since we were on Tybee Island in Savannah, but I dreamed about the lighthouse last night.

When we were there for our anniversary, the time we spent here was almost surreal. The sound of the surf, sweeping clouds, and the beach awash with billions of tiny pieces of shell.

For a while, it seemed like time didn't exist. We sat near the ocean with wind on our faces and nothing but now on our minds. It felt like something from a novel.

For years, we've gone to the gulf for my birthday in January. Next year, if the signs are right, we'll spend my birthday at Tybee Island. Time in the now is time well spent.

Some like it hot

I've tapped keys for most of the day. This afternoon when Jilda headed to work, I headed to the bank to make a deposit.

I'm helping the City of Dora with a magazine ad, so after leaving the bank, I drove around for a few minutes and shots some pictures for the ad.

When I pulled into the parking lot of the Mining Museum, I noticed this Queen Anne's Lace showing out at the edge of the property. Once pictures of the museum were "a thang", I stepped over and snapped a few of the Queen Anne's Lace.

Apparently, it's another plant that likes it hot.

You'll never be broke ~ my column from Sunday's paper

A while back, I had to cover a city council meeting in Sumiton. Sometimes it’s hard for me to face this kind of work without a stiff drink, so I stopped in The Blend Coffee Shop to buy a steaming cup of java. 

Pulling the wallet from my pocket, I reached for the gift card my sister had given to me for my birthday. While sliding the card from its holder, a $2 bill fell onto the floor. Picking it up, I smiled. As I tucked it safely back into my wallet, I remembered that this was a gift, too.

The $2 bill was a gift my mom gave me about 40 years ago after Jilda and I married. Mama collected the bills for some reason and kept them squirreled away in her purse. 

One Sunday during a visit to her house, she was sitting in her recliner. Someone had installed a natural gas heater in the old living room fireplace, and it kept the room toast’ish. (Is that a word?) 

As always on Sunday, there was a room full of family members and friends there. It was after lunch, and everyone was stuffed. Some said their goodbyes and headed home. Jilda and I lingered a while longer to help clean up the kitchen.

Afterward, as we sat there, letting the fried chicken digest, a thought occurred to mama, and she reached for her purse. Fumbling around through some of the hidden compartments, she pulled out a small container of $2 bills. She gave both me and Jilda one and said, “Keep this in your pocket, and you’ll never be broke again.” 

Not being broke was important to my mom, who was a child that lived through the Great Depression. She was the middle of 13 children. Times were hard. Her dad kept a handkerchief in his pocket. A nickel and four pennies were tied into one corner of that handkerchief. That was his insurance against being broke. A $2 bill back then would have seemed as big as a sail.

I could go on and on about all the gifts my mom gave to me throughout my life, but that $2 bill was a way of teaching me a valuable life lesson. There were times in her life when she had no money. Those times left a lasting impression. She worked tirelessly to ensure that she would never be broke again.

Recently Don Wilson, who is a 1953 graduate of Dora High, gave me a donation to help pay the expenses for the www.dorahighschool.com website. They could have written a check, but Don likes doing the unexpected. His contribution was in $2 bills. I howled when I saw what was in the bag he gave me. When I deposited his donation, I kept several $2 bills. 

Today, my great-nephew Jordan came over to hang out with us and to check on his 4-H chickens that are living in my chicken pen. After he did his feeding and watering chores, we sat on the back deck in the morning sun.  Remembering the $2 bills, I went to my souvenir box and took out one of the bills I’d kept. 

Handing him the bill, he examined it curiously. I’ve been known to pull his leg from time to time, so he was waiting for the punchline. I then showed him my old $2 bill and told him the story behind it. He thanked me for the gift and put it on the dresser next to his iPad so that he wouldn’t forget it.

Only time will tell what Jordan will do with the bill. He might buy a box of those sour atomic worms, but I’d like to think that one day 40 years from now, he will pull his tattered bill from his pocket and remember that he’s never been broke, thanks to Uncle Rick.

I did that thang

I cut the grass alongside the road in our neighborhood today. It's an agreement that I have with the county commissioner. I cut the roadside and he doesn't send trucks down my road spraying herbicides. Bees don't do well with chemicals, especially when things are in bloom.

When we drove in yesterday, I noticed that the grass had grown a good bit since I last mowed it so, when I got home this evening, I jumped on the mower and did that thang.

On the way back, I noticed a vine with red blossoms near a neighbors mailbox. Pulling to the edge, I snapped a few pictures. The sun what bright and I wasn't sure how the flowers would look in such harsh light, but they don't look too bad.

Beacon in the forest

Last year I swore that I wouldn't put Caillou (our collie) through a summer cut. But the heat hit early, and he was miserable. So, I took him last Thursday. He's been a different dog since.

This morning, we walked early. Even then, the air was heavy and still. The gardenias are blooming along our fence. They love this kind of weather, and their aroma lounged on the thick air as if it were a pillow.

Even the birds seemed lethargic.

Jilda and I knew that if we didn't sneaker-up early, it wasn't going to happen. So we did.

We swilled our coffee and hit the trail.

The first lap is slow, so the dogs can all do their business. But the second lap is for the grown-ups. We put them in the fence and did a high-intensity walk.

Toward the end, while we were walking under the canopy of oak and hickory on the barn road, I saw Jilda stop in her tracks. When I turned to see what caught her attention.

Down in the hollow near the spring was a beautiful oak leaf hydrangea. Pulling the phone from my pocket, I snapped a few pictures. Then I stood there admiring the native plant.

It looked like a beacon in the forest.

Sometimes nature just shows out.

Thinking of Uncle Marvin on Memorial Day

In December of 1941, Uncle Marvin Lee was having the time of his life. He was on the U.S. California stationed in Hawaii. He was 20 years old.

He looked like a movie star in the old pictures that he mailed home. On one, he was on what looked like a Vespa motorcycle.

Then on December 7, the unimaginable happened. He died before the war was ever declared.

I think of my Uncle Marvin Lee Ferguson often, Even though he died 10 years before I was born, I still think of him often. The pictures of him enjoying life in a beautiful place makes me smile until the tape in my head plays to the end.

Each Memorial Day, I take a few moments and love and gratitude to him and the other 416,800 Americans that died in that war.

Bloom'age

I'm sure it's possible that there is a more beautiful flower with an aroma more heavenly than a gardenia. It's a big world and there are over 400,000 flowering plants.

Perhaps in the Amazon Rain Forest, there are blossoms that put the gardenia to shame.  I've heard that Bali and Hawaii have remarkable bloom'age (is that a word?)

This much I can say for sure. In Empire, Alabama in May of 2019. There are no flowers that can hold a candle to our gardenias.

Graduation

I had to cover graduation tonight. Thankfully I just had to get pictures before the ceremony. The school has a gym but no auditorium. They had the service on the football field.

The kids gathered in the guy to get ready. Even though the temp in the gym was sweltering, some of them were giddy while others were introspective. I shot over 80 pictures.

I walked outside as they walked down to the field and shot a few more pictures before heading home.

If I'm not mistaken, It was 51 years ago tonight that I graduated.

When I stepped into my truck, I jacked the AC as high as it would go. My shirt looked as though I wore it in the shower.

I was glad to get home.

Telling stories

I interviewed an older gentleman this morning for the paper. He was delightful. During the conversation, I learned that he was good friends with my dad and my grandparents. 

The morning slipped away before I realized it. 

I have a deadline for this story, so I said my goodbyes and headed home to write.  A few hours later, I was editing copy and choosing pictures to run with the story.

Stories like the one today is why I love the work I"m doing. Telling stories that would otherwise go untold.

This is another one I will share once it runs.

When I was looking for a photo tonight, I came across some beach flowers that I shot a few weeks ago at Tybee Island.

The way I roll

My phone chirped yesterday evening as I was headed home. I glanced at the screen and saw that the ISS was coming overhead in five minutes.

I pulled to the curb to get the direction from which it was coming and the angle. Fortunately, there was a place nearby with a large dimly lighted parking lot with an unobstructed view of the horizon.

A few minutes later I pulled into the lot and clicked the gearshift into park. My shoe crunched on the gravel as I stepped out to lean against the truck. Even though the sun had set 30 minutes earlier, the black truck was still warm. 

It only took a moment to see the ISS come into view. I stood there looking into the sky. A motorcycle pulled into the lot a moment later and I noticed the rider had taken his helmet off and was also looking up. I'm not sure if his phone beeped or he saw me and wondered what I was looking at.

He was across the lot so I pointed to the space station silently skimming across the sky. I'm not sure if he knew or he thought I was "teched in the head", as my grandma used to say.

A few minutes later it slipped past the horizon.

I'm not sure why I love watching the space station, but I do. Even though I've seen it dozens of times, if I know it's coming over I step outside to see it.

If anyone asked me why I would simply say, "That's the way I roll."

Getting hotter

Today was a hot one and it gets hotter as we move into the weekend. They're saying it could near 100 degrees F.  I'm excited.

I feel kind of like this carving on the fireplace mantle in the B&B where we stayed in Savannah.

Planting seeds for the future ~ my column from Sunday's paper

Time has made some of the things in my past a little fuzzy, but there are other moments in my life that are as clear as a Windexed window. High School graduation day is a good example. 

It was my first date with Jilda Phillips. She was a 10th grader then. She told me I looked good in my graduation gown. I’d never worn a dress before, so it was a new experience for me. I appreciated her feedback. I remember the swishing sound the gown made as I walked down the aisle. The flat hat tilted to port, and it made me wonder if my head was tilted to port, and it made me wonder if my head was slanted to one side. 

Mr. Gant was the principal at that time. He planted a lot of seeds with his wisdom. When he handed me my diploma, he looked me in the eyes and said in a low voice that only I could hear, “Make us proud, Ricky.” 

Flipping the gold tassel from the right side of my face to the left was an iconic moment in my life. It felt as if I were stepping through a gateway into the future. I wasn’t sure what was in store for me, but getting on with my life was top priority. The experience was exhilarating. 

My work at the Daily Mountain Eagle takes me to local high schools, and I’ve had the opportunity to interview several seniors. The thing that strikes me is they all seem a little restless. I remember that feeling. Most of them enjoyed high school, but they are ready to turn the next page in their lives. I’m excited for them.

I don’t remember many opportunities for scholarships when I graduated. They were there I’m sure, but my grades probably put me on the bottom of the list for potential award offers.

Both Jilda and I attended college. Through the years, we’ve learned the value of an education. Back around 2006, we became active in the Dora High School Alumni Association. During our work there, we both decided it would be a good idea to fund a small scholarship each year for a senior that might otherwise be overlooked for an award. We started in 2008.

Awarding scholarships is our way of planting seeds. Some of them fall on fallow ground, but our hope is that a few of them take root and grow strong. 

Our first recipient was William Justice. Will has done well. He not only graduated from Birmingham-Southern College, but he went on to earn a master’s degree. Since he graduated, he’s done well.

 We put a quote by Eleanor Roosevelt on each certificate we award these days. It says: “The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.”

We are both excited for the young folks making their transition from high school to the next phase of their lives.

The scholarship this year is going to a young woman who wants to go into forensics. Together Jilda and I will wish her well. Maybe when she becomes successful, she’ll come back to Dora High and plant some seeds of her own.

Eventful day

Today was kind of eventful in a down-home kind of way. First of all, we picked another basket of blueberries. This is from the first four bushes. They get morning sun earlier than the other bushes on the terrace row. We picked some berries today that were as big around as a nickel. We put an old newspaper down on the table and spread the berries on the paper. This allows them to get fully ripe.  I love picking them and popping the sun-warmed berries into my mouth. Yum.

Then, I went down to check the beehives. I was disappointed that the first three hadn't started making honey in the top super which is where they make the honey for me. When I opened the fourth hive, it was full. I selected the first two frames and took them to the deck to try my hand at extracting the honey.

I have all the equipment, but using it the for the first time was wonky. I learned a great deal. I need a few more pieces of hardware to make this task easier.

When I finished, I had two pint jars of sweet amber heaven. I'd promised one of the first jars to my nephew who helped me get the hives on day one. The second one is next to the coffeemaker. I'll use a spoonful in the hot tea we have this evening.

The last event was I finally completed the chicken pen. My great nephew Jordan and his mom helped in the process. After lunch today, they brought the plastic tub of chicks over and turned them loose in the pen.

It took them a while to venture out of the tub, but when I looked down there at dusk, the were jumping at moths that had been drawn to their warming light.

Blue moon

Jilda and I had dinner with friends tonight. They live in Fayette and we live in Empire, so we met in Jasper which is in the middle.

We don't get to spend enough time with our friends. The last time we saw them was at Christmas. 

We had a delightful time catching up.  

We paid the tab and headed to the cars. I heard Jo Frances say, "Oh look! The moon."  Between two buildings, I could see the moon rising over the city.

I had the camera in my car so I strapped on a telephoto and shot a few frames.

After we said our goodbyes and headed home, the full moon was like a hood ornament for a while before ascending into the sky.

Jilda told me it's the last blue moon of this decade. I'm thrilled that the skies were clear.

Lick the sky

I know I've been into skies these last few days, but this morning when I got up and stepped into the kitchen, I could see color on the window seal. After starting the coffee, I stepped over to the garden door and looked at the sky to the south.

Pulling the phone from my pocket, I snapped a picture but the camera thought the color should be something other than what the irises in my eyes saw – which was clouds the color of butterscotch.

Standing there, my mouth watered involuntarily. I love the taste of butterscotch. I wanted to step outside and lick the sky.

A view of the west

I had an interview south of Birmingham this evening. It was in a gated community on a hill with a view of toward the west. 

It's a story of a couple in their late forties who were friends for most of their lives. They'd grown apart after college but ran into each other last year. Romance slipped into the mix so they decided to get married this summer.

We'd planned to do the interview on their patio, but a storm moved in from the west and forced us to go inside.

I'm not sure when the story will run, but I'll post it here once it does. I think you'll enjoy it.

Until then, here is a picture I shot before the rain moved in.

Weary bones

I worked hard today. There are many days I work long hours writing, editing pictures, and doing think work, but today was physical labor.

I built the chicken pen over 20 years ago. It served well even though it was damaged several times when storms scraped through the area. Patching and rigging kept it in service, but these last few years it put predatory critters on the honor system.

Jordan is in 4-H and his project is chickens. He and his mom currently have 19 baby chicks in their extra bedroom.  He asked if he could put his chicks here when they get a little better.

I agreed to house them for him but I knew the old pen wasn't going to keep them safe.

Earlier this week, I called a neighbor who is a good carpenter and he said he'd be here at 9 a.m. Before he arrived, I tore most of the old pen down and got the area ready for when the carpenter got there.

By this afternoon, we had it framed and the roof installed. All I need to do now is put the wire up and hang the doors.

I hope our chickens will be happy. 

Bed Time

Today has been wide open. I had a short break between interviews this morning and I stopped by a local fast-food restaurant and had a cup of coffee and a fried apple pie. I haven't had one of those in years....the pie, I mean.

The restaurant was packed, so I took my coffee to the deck and sat outside. When the rain moved out a few days ago, it dragged a cool front in behind it. So while I sat on the deck sipping java, the sun was warm on my face but a breeze out of the northwest made it feel a little heaven'ish. '

Tomorrow, I have a carpenter coming to help me get a few things done around the farm.

I'm ready for a cup of hot tea and the pillow. Y'all be sweet.

Newest member of the family

The newest member of our family arrived while we were in Savannah. I'm sure Jilda has mentioned it, but we hadn't seen him. 

They were in baby ICU for a long time and when they finally brought him home, I caught the crud and wouldn't go around him until I knew I wasn't contagious.

Yesterday, the time was right. He was happy in Jilda's arms, but I don't usually hold kids until they are old enough to drink beer. Just kidding. My beard freaks young children out until they get used to me.

He was born a month early so he is tiny but seems to be growing a little each day. I can't wait to teach him about chickens, beekeeping, and fly fishing. I have a feeling he will be another great nephew.

Happy Mother’s Day

The old quote says that time heals all wounds, but I don’t think this includes losing our mothers. It’s been seven years, and at times my heart still feels bruised.

Each year on Mother’s Day, I flip through the Facebook timelines of my friends. I love seeing the pictures and reading the stories about each of their mothers. Some of the posts are funny, but some

are poignant. For those of us who’ve lost our moms, it can be an emotional time.

Losing my dad knocked the wind out of my sail, but losing my mother, took away my rudder leaving me adrift. 

My mom was not always an angel. She didn’t have a verbal filter. When she saw things that she didn’t agree with, her words could cut to the bone. She didn’t intentionally hurt feelings, but she sometimes did.

I’ve joked that my mama used to whip me with a rosebush if I messed up. She never did. But if I had a nickel for every time I’ve had to cut a keen hickory, I could settle the national debt with enough left over for a world cruise.

Dr. Benjamin Spock would not have approved of her methods, but I can honestly say that all of her kids knew how to behave at home and in public. We still do.

My mama had a soft spot for the underdogs. She pulled for the Braves when fans in the stands wore bags over their heads. 

If there was a kid in the neighborhood that needed a meal or a place to stay, there was always a welcome mat at our house. 

When I was in grammar school, we took in two sisters whose family was going through hard times. They lived with us for months in the old two-bedroom house in Sloss. When things turned around in their home, they moved out.  

We took in a young boy when I was in the fifth grade. He was a year younger than me, and his dad lost his job in the coal mines and couldn’t find work. At first, I wasn’t thrilled to share my bedroom with Billy, but he stayed with us for a year while his dad went to Montana and found work in the copper mines. By the time he left, we were like brothers and I teared up when he walked away. Mama cried, too.

She did laundry for people in Dora who were more affluent. My dad earned enough money to keep the lights on and food on the table, but mama used the money she earned on the side to buy the extras. She started shopping for Christmas each year at New Years and by the time Santa’s sleigh was airborne later that year, there were gifts for all of her kids and a few for the less fortunate kids we knew.

Later in her life, she was among the first in the community to help out at the Mission of Hope. She took the clothes that people donated to the mission and washed them at her house. When someone’s home burned, or they were in need, they could pick up clothes that were as good as new at the mission. I could go on about my mom, but I won’t. 

I will say this: If you still have your mom, never take her for granted. One day you may find yourself flipping through Facebook on Mother’s Day and wishing you could tell her one more time that you appreciate all she did for you. And that you love and miss her every day.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Art Gig

Jilda and I played an acoustic performance for the Art Association's Art in the Park festival today. The threat of stormy weather all week caused the planners to have heart palpitations so they made an executive decision on Wednesday to make it Art in the community center.

I can't say I was disappointed because the mercury was climbing by the time we took the stage, and the AC unit in the community purred like a cat on quaaludes. We were comfy though you would not have guessed that by looking at the expression on my face as we play a new song entitled "Coffee."

It's a blues riff about a guy that is addicted to caffeine. We wrote it with our friend Joe Gregg Winsett.

It was a fun gig. After we finished and packed up, we went to lunch with a couple friends. It's been stormy, but it's been a delightful day.

Having a great time in spite of the expression on my face.

Purple stuff

I went to urgent care today. I haven't been sick in three years. I have had a knee replacement and several dental bone graphs but these were elective, so to speak.

The last time I got sick was three years ago when Jilda and I were heading south to do a show in south Alabama. 

It was a nice day and we had our windows rolled down. We passed a place south of Birmingham and someone was burning something in their yard. As we drove by the smoke wafted through our car window and my lungs spasmed. 

By the next day, I had a full-fledged upper respiratory and lung infection. It took three visits to the doctor and almost three months to get over that episode.

On Wednesday of this week, I started sneezing. I sneeze occasionally when I mow grass, but the wasn't like those sneezes. Immediately after the sneezes, my nose fauceted (Is that a word?) 

Yesterday, I hoped it would pass but when I got up this morning I had a slight fever. DocTime (is that a word?)

After two shots south of the belt with needles that looked like pencils, I was off. I can't believe I had a co-pay of $25 to get tortured.

After I got home and the steroids took control, I ricocheted off the walls. I wanted to plant a bigger garden, mow the neighborhood grass, and take up rock climbing. Thankfully it rained.

When the rain slacked up, we went for a walk. Once, back in the yard, I noticed some purple stuff growing near the edge. The thing about getting plants from our grandmothers back when Lyndon Johnson was in the Whitehouse is that we can't always remember the names of the plants. 

The one below became known as Purple Stuff.

Daylilies

Jilda nor I came close to getting our steps in today. It was raining when we got up to drink coffee. By the time we got our morning chores done, the rain stopped long enough for us to take the dogs out for a short hygiene walk.

Before we got to the barn, I heard thunder in the distance and the color of the sky changed. We quickened our step and headed for the back gate.

Off to the side of the trail hidden among the blackberry bushes, I noticed a color I hadn't seen before. When I stepped closer, it was the daylilies that Jilda's mom gave her.

I called dibs on the picture and stepped over to take the shot. The rain started peppering down before I got under shelter, but it the picture was worth getting a little wet.

Garden inspector

We had a garden inspector that showed up unannounced this morning. I'd gone down to check on the bees and on the way back I met him.

He was shy at first, but he seemed to enjoy the layout of the place. I'm sure I'll get a full report later in the summer but I think we'll do OK.

I hope he comes back when the squash are bearing.

Storm gods

One last picture and story about Savanna. 

Jilda and I walked a great deal while in Savannah. On Saturday after our afternoon nap, we decided to walk over to River Street. It sits on the banks of the Savannah River. 

The sun was shining when we left. The temps were warm and the sun was baking tourists from around the glove. We heard languages we couldn't associate with a country.

Midway into the stroll, a raindrop fell on Jilda's face. Not long after that, we took shelter under a store awning.

The rain slacked up and we walked further. When we got to the small park where the steps descended down to River Street, we heard thunder. It wasn't leisurely - Oh look we'll get to see lightning in the distance - kind of thunder, but a menacing stomping sound. 

Living in Walker County, Alabama, we both recognized the sound. We opted to skip holding hands on the boardwalk, and subscribed to the get the hell back to the B&B option.

About halfway back, we heard drunk guys coming up from behind. I heard one of them say breathlessly to us - we should all take cover....there's a tornado coming.

Both Jilda and I have weather apps on our phone and we are attuned to weather alerts. When I turned to see if the guy was pulling our leg, I could tell he was serious. 

Just then, both Jilda's and my phones chirped in stereo. TORNADO WARNING FOR YOUR LOCATION. TAKE COVER IMMEDIATELY.

We both stepped inside a stairwell with our new tipsy friends and waited for a few minutes.  When the radar refreshed, we could tell the storm was off to the north of us about a mile.

We thanked our buddies for thinking of us and we quick-stepped it back to the B&B and darted to our basement room in case the storm changed its mind.

I later read that some parts of the city sustained some damage and everyone was saying how rare it was to have a tornado in Savanna. 

We didn't bother telling people that we get our mail on tornado street in Alabama. They would have christened us the Storm-gods.

Neighbors ~ my column from Sunday's paper

I’d just finished weed eating the backyard fence and was sitting in the shade sipping ice tea when I heard a rumble at the house across the road. The place has been empty for a few months, so I stepped over and peered between the gardenia bushes to get the snoop-scoop. A young man was taking down the “For Rent” sign by the driveway. I mumbled to myself – we have new neighbors.

The next day was Saturday, and I heard a push mower spring to life behind the place. Soon, the tall weeds that were as thick as a wooden fence were history.

A while later another car pulled into the drive. The two of them worked hard cleaning around the place for most of the day. I like that in neighbors. Someone who’s not afraid to get their hands dirty and knows the meaning of hard work. As they pulled out from their new driveway that evening, the streetlights had just blinked on.

On Sunday, I spent the morning converting our winter greenhouse back into a screen porch. By the time I’d finished, my shirt was wet. Flipping on the ceiling fan, I sat down to let the cool breeze from the fan dry my shirt.

Our new neighbors must have started working inside their new place. With open doors and windows, I could hear the muffled sound of music playing as they worked, and I thought I heard a small dog barking from somewhere deep inside. 

Jilda and I debated on whether to step across the road and welcome them to the neighborhood. We did that with some neighbors in the past, and the two of them looked at us as if we had leprosy. That chilly encounter cost them one of Jilda’s world famous “slap yo’ mama” pound cakes as a welcome to the neighborhood gift. 

In all honesty, I can see why people are standoffish when they move into a new neighborhood. This day and time, who knows what kind of psycho lives next door. Act friendly one moment, and the next moment, they are breaking into your house while you’re at Wal-Mart, rumbling through your medicine cabinet, and stealing your stereo.

When our new neighbors get settled in, we will step over and introduce ourselves and try not to act too weird, though that is sometimes challenging for me. 

What I’d like them to know is that we’ve lived here since Jimmy Carter was in the Whitehouse. We don’t play our stereo too loud on work nights, we don’t drive like Dale Earnhardt on these narrow, bumpy roads, and we pick up litter from the roadside each day when we walk. 

We’re mindful of boundaries, and we can be trusted to feed the dogs and pick up their mail when they occasionally go out of town on a weekend. 

We’ll do our best to be the kind of neighbors we’d like to have if we moved to a new community.

This picture has nothing to do with the column, but I took it yesterday at Tybee Island near Savannah where we spent the weekend for our anniversary.

Keeping on

We ate out this evening. I wore my turquoise linen shirt. Jilda wore a long black dress. The restaurant was upscale and the food was remarkable. 

A young couple sat beside us with a rambunctious baby boy. He fell in love with Jilda. We talked for a moment while we waited for our food. We learned where they were from, what they did for a living. They said they'd been married for almost five years. I smiled and them and then a Jilda. She told them we were celebrating our 45 anniversary. They were speechless. We shared a little longevity advice and we all had a good laugh.

We talked for a few minutes long and then our food arrived. We settled in and enjoyed the atmosphere. 

The young couple left before we did, but when the stood, they both shook our hands and thanked us for sharing with them. These two looked like they were in it for the long haul. 

I hope they have an opportunity on their 45 anniversary to share with a young couple and to encourage them to keep on keeping on.

Steeples and Mockingbirds

Life comes at you fast. Maybe it's because I'm older and can't take in the volume of information that I could when I was 20. Or maybe when I was 20, I let the information shower over me, only taking in a wisp of all that I saw or experienced.

Recently, Jilda and I visited a place we'd never been. The brochures gave directions to all the local attractions. They all sounded amazing. 

When we walked out of our B&B to get a morning coffee, we saw the steeple of a Presbyterian church. It was humbling and beautiful. 

These days, I try my best to "be here now." It's become important to me to look at the artwork on the walls of the restaurant...to look at the faces of children walking by, to smell the gardenias blooming in the courtyard,  to see the steeples against a cloudless sky, and to hear the mockingbird sing to anyone who cares to listen.

John Rose

Today has been a long one. I won't bore you with the details. The weatherman said it would be in the upper 80s so we walked early.

Jilda's John Rose was blooming. We're not sure what kind of rose it is but our dear friend John Elliott gave it to us. The day we planted it, we christened it the John Rose. Sadly, he died of a type of virulent cancer less than a year afterward. That was in 1993. He died during the deepest snow we've ever had here.

The funeral home rolled the coffin out for his wife and sister to view before the wake started. When he opened the lid, it was an 80-year-old woman in his coffin. His wife and sister looked at each other and howled with laughter.  The funeral director was beside himself. He was thinking they would be angry instead both of them almost had hygiene issues. You see, John was a character. He sucked the nectar from each day. His wife and sister saw it for what it was. John played one last prank on them.

We both miss Ol' John, but we're thankful he gave us a rose bush. You'll have to visit Jilda's blog to see the rose because I wouldn't dare steal her photo. Click here.

I do have a photo of the first blueberry of the season.

Jasmine

Jilda was scheduled for a long day at work today so we decided to walk early. After coffee, we shoe'd up and headed out. 

Once outside, we both stopped on the front stoop and inhaled the aroma of the Jasmine hanging from the front arbor. It should be against the law.

Each day when we walk we take inventory of what's happening. The fruit trees are no longer bloom, but the blackberry bushes are in full bloom. The privets are also blooming. If it weren't for the fact that bees love privets, I would smite them.

Within the next few weeks, we'll be picking gallons of fresh blueberries.  

The weatherman says we could have bad weather over the weekend. 

If I were making a list of things I'd want to happen, bad weather would not be on the list.

I hope you all have a bluechip Friday. 

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Amaryllis

I know I lean toward autumn as my favorite time of year. The foliage, the sounds, and the smells. But still, there are many excellent reasons to choose spring.

The weather this spring has been perfect. Cool enough to keep some things dormant until the time is right...but warm enough to coax out the adventurous spirit of other things.

We planted tomatoes, peppers, onions, garlic, and a wide range of herbs.  But we've also planted zinnias, sunflowers, and other flowers. All of the above have launched into action the last few days.

This afternoon when we returned from Birmingham, we walked down to check on the bees. I heard Jilda gasp. When I looked, the amaryllis in the flower bed had bloomed. She didn't have her phone so she told me to shoot the picture. I was happy to oblige.

I hope spring visits to you soon where ever you live.