Neal Saye

Attempting a Dia de Muertos Celebration

Posted on November 8, 2021November 8, 2021 by Neal Saye

Last fall near Halloween, Robert and I watched Pixar’s Coco, which beautifully introduced us to Dia de Muertos (Day of the Dead). Coming from a family culture that embraces frequent visits to graveyards and cemeteries, I loved the idea of remembering loved ones who have passed on by having their own joyfully colorful and celebratory holiday.

It was only a couple of days until November 2, the traditional day when the holiday is celebrated in Mexico and other places. So we quickly made a little ofrenda (altar) consisting of a couple of pictures of our deceased parents, some flowers and a candle or two. Sitting before our simple shrine, we thanked our folks for their lives and their love.

But 2021 was another story. We began gathering Day of the Dead materials months ago and started making preparations.

We collected Day of the Dead candles, banners, decorations, and on a trip to Atlanta, we found a loaf of Pan de Muertos (Bread of the Dead) at the Buford Highway Farmers Market (what a glorious center of culinary diversity).

Last Tuesday, November 2nd, we celebrated by combining our dinner table and our Day of the Dead ofrenda.

Robert’s folks …

And mine …

We made some of their favorite foods for our meal …

Fried corn, collard greens, Maryland crab cakes and pork rinds

The loaf of Pan de Muertos, round to symbolize the cycle of life, with teardrops flowing from the top, representing goddess Chimalma’s tears for the living.

Holding hands, we shared memories of fun, funny and joyful stories from the lives of our parents and other loved ones who have passed on.

A movingly marvelous evening and now a permanent addition to our holiday calendar.

Monday Moaning

Monday Moaning 11/8/21

Posted on November 8, 2021November 15, 2021 by Neal Saye

Another Marvelous Monday.

The Artful Dodger, Unexpected Art

“The Artful Dodger” #1

Posted on November 5, 2021November 17, 2021 by Neal Saye

A new blog category about finding “art” in unexpected places and situations.

After drying my hands, I carelessly tossed the hand towel toward the bar on the outside door of our new glass shower (fully expecting it to fall to the floor as usual—the towel, not the door).

But lo and behold, I instantly became a renowned artist! InstaArt. Putting me in the same league with, say, Jackson Pollock and his brilliant “drip technique” of throwing/pouring paint onto his canvases.

See my artistic intelligence? No?! Just look! My masterpiece (well, master towel) seems “bathed” in soft light, accentuating the “clean” lines of the work. Dramatically crowned in portrait mode by the green loofah.

Enjoy!

{Holiday prints now available for a limited time only for $19.99 plus shipping and handling! 🎄}

Robert and …

“Robert and …” #2

Posted on November 5, 2021July 19, 2022 by Neal Saye

A blog category of pics I’ve taken of Hubby Robert and … well, just about anything.

Robert and my Father

Robert cutting my 95-year-old father’s hair at the Canton (Ga) Nursing and Rehabilitation Center

And a year or so later at the Georgia War Veterans Nursing Hone in Augusta

Throwback Thursday, Post from the Past

Neal’s Post from the Past: “Sometimes I Get What I Deserve”

Posted on November 4, 2021November 6, 2021 by Neal Saye

Here’s an old post from way back in 2014 (when I was still late middle-age).

So today I ate lunch at Savannah’s hip Green Truck Neighborhood Pub on Habersham Street.

Here’s how the story went down.

As some of you know, I no longer bring meat into the house–it’s all vegetables, fruits, legumes, nuts and seeds there. But I occasionally indulge while eating out. And for some some reason, today I had an all-too-powerful-to-ignore-or-resist hankering for a hunk of grilled meat. So I pulled up to the Green Truck, belly-ed up to the bar to avoid the table wait and ordered the Green Truck Classic Burger, described in their menu as “plain and simple as an old truck: lettuce, tomato, onion and our soon-to-be-famous house-made pickle.” (I added cheddar.)

Yum. No, double yum!

I kept furtively looking around to see if any of my vegetarian friends might have followed me inside. I was nervously poised to slam my meaty plate in front of one of the folks on either side of me at the bar.

Anyway, I savored every moment, every bite. (Do Not Tell Anyone About This! It’s Just Between You And Me.)

Well, when I finished, (and be forewarned, the rest of the story is probably TMI, so stop right now, if you like, and you will still have my burger story), I went to the non-gender-specific bathroom–I’m so 2014– before waddling back to the car.

There was the coolest retro sink inside.

And the typical cabinet.

But for some reason I glanced at the cabinet again …

… and thought, “I wonder what’s in that little cabinet? And if the contents are also non-gender-specific?”

(P.S. When inviting me to birthday or Avon parties, put some of those plastic child resistant lock things on your cabinets. I’ve never been able to figure them out.)

So, of course I reached up and opened the cabinet door. Wouldn’t you? No?! (I also opened a door in a huge hallway in the Biltmore House in Asheville some years back, and a piercing alarm went off, terribly embarrassing my family and friends. Me? When things like that happen, I just try to go to my Happy Place inside and block out externals. There might have been an “Alarm Will Sound” notice on the door, I can’t remember, but really, how often would the Biltmores have changed the batteries?)

Lo and behold, an alarm of sorts also went off when I opened the cabinet door inside the Green Truck’s non-gender-specific bathroom. Here’s what was scrawled on the inside of the door:

I walked out of the bathroom beet red.

(P.S. II: I was so taken aback by the message that I completely forgot to see what was inside the cabinet. If someone wouldn’t mind, would you rush over to the Green Truck, pretend to have to use the bathroom, and snap a pic or two of the inside of that cabinet so I can go to sleep tonight? Thank you.)

Beautiful Savannah

I Love Our D.A.!

Posted on November 3, 2021November 6, 2021 by Neal Saye

My stomping ground, Historic District Savannah, is a lovely place anytime of the year. But D.A (Downtown Autumn) is especially beautiful—and comes in a pretty close second to our Azalea-d Spring.

On a stroll this morning, I decided to ignore the leftover Halloween displays and just concentrate on Fall. Here’s a sampling of what yelled “Hello there, look at me!”

Glorious stairs, leading Up:

Wreaths:

Boots:

Camellias (Savannah’s “cold weather azaleas”) ready to burst into bloom—and a few getting a head start:

Ralph:

Odds and ends:

A pink pumpkin:

A cool courtyard:

Two hanging baskets, who drew me close and whispered, “Please. Please. Get us outta here. Haven’t we grown enough?”

Loquats—a native Chinese fruit found growing More often than you would think in historic district courtyards and tree lawns.

And finally, our fair abode, which now seems sorta shadowy compared to all those others I walked by.

But what a beautiful D.A. we have here in Savannah’s Historic District. Thank you, Autumn.

T-Shirt of the Day

T-Shirt Tuesday: “If You Can’t”

Posted on November 3, 2021November 9, 2021 by Neal Saye

In the front window of Saints and Shamrocks boutique, Savannah

Solid advice.

Change

“Robert and …” #1

Posted on November 2, 2021July 19, 2022 by Neal Saye

A new blog category starting today.: pics I’ve taken of Hubby Robert and … well, just about anything.

Robert and a Waterfall

Robert, with a dash of visible frustration, in front of Toccoa Falls (on the campus of Toccoa Falls College), attempting to explain to me how to take his picture.

Monday Musings

Miles to Go

Posted on October 31, 2021November 1, 2021 by Neal Saye

After Forsyth Park Farmers Market-ing Saturday morning, Robert and I were walking home, minding our own business, when out of the blue, the Universe spoke to me again. (A fairly common occurrence these days.)

“It’s the end of October,” I thought. “Isn’t it a little late for hydrangeas to still be blooming?” But glancing up and down the row of bushes, I noticed that all the other hydrangeas were NOT blooming, except for this LONE, stubborn survivor.

I was mesmerized, the bloom just SO very June fresh.

“It’s rude to stare,” she interrupted my thoughts, a bit offended.

“Sorry, I didn’t meant to stare. But I’m floored to see you here when all of your … your brothers and sisters are … are less than alive.” (My awkward attempt to avoid further rudeness.)

“May I ask why you ARE still here?” I timidly wondered.

Her demeanor shifted, and she smiled the tiniest of smiles.

“I suppose you can, but I’ll let Frost answer for me.”

The woods are lovely dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

“Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost

I walked home with lively, renewed fervor in my step.