I’m Hot but Happy. 98 degrees yesterday here in Savannah (heat index way over 100); 95 today. Whew. But unless I’m having heat tremors, here’s what I’m happy about today.
1. Seeing Love listed as an ingredient on a product label.
But kale? KALE?? Seriously?
2. The surprising, intricate beauty of looking up in Savannah.
3. My good buddy Riboclavin …
… without a thermometer. Okay, so maybe he doesn’t seem to be enjoying his food 100%, but still, he’s sitting in the sun, getting a vitamin D boost.
4. As some of you know, my grandkids call me “Abu” (Cuban/Hispanic shortened version of grandfather) because I thought “grandfather,” etc sounded entirely too paternally old. Well, six-year-old Daniel and three-year-old Gabriel are WILD over Skylanders. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, DO NOT try to figure it out. It’s far too complicated. But the Skylander franchise is basically taking over the world, of kids. Anyway, I recently told D and G that a brand new, exciting Skylander figure had just come available on the market, AbuForce!
The three-year old bought it for minute until the six-year-old exclaimed, “No way, Abu. You’re joking again.”
“I am not,” I lied. (Why does that trait come so easily to me?)
“Prove it, then,” smart-mouth Daniel challenged.
“Okay I will,” I responded, having no clue how to do so, or even what I meant.
“When?” he asked, a little smart-mouthier.
“Tomorrow,” I easily answered.
Sometimes, angels come your way. I told my friend Robert about my dilemma. He laughed and said he might be able to help. It seems the U.S miltary has a program called Huggs-to-Go, providing dolls for children of service men and women deployed. The figures have a place at the face for pictures of dad or mom, etc. Since Robert is retired Army and currently works at Hunter Army Airfield, he somehow managed to get me two of the dolls.
I presented the AbuForce figures to Daniel and Gabriel the next day. Both, in shock that there really was an AbuForce, melted my heart with their excitement over my little joke.
And the following day, they brought unparalleled joy to my heart when they both told me that they slept with AbuForce.
So today I decided I really needed to do something about my limp, flyaway, graying hair.
I’m frustrated because, well, I’m beginning to look my age. And, you know, that just doesn’t seem natural. So I consulted the online Yellow Pages for area barbers and hair salons and read about an intriguing little place out near Skidaway Island (I’m in Savannah, by the way) called … The Babies Hair Salon.
I drove over, parked Skedaddler (my lil gray Scion) (gray seems to be a theme in my life lately) (just not fifty shades of it) (yet) and found myself being promptly greeted by, believe it or not, two surprised-looking BABIES! Ten-month-old twins Madison and Matthew …
When he saw my hair, I got the impression that Matthew had initial concerns about his and his sister’s ability to help me …
Perhaps Madison had the same concern, but she tried to mask her feelings with a blank stare.
Nevertheless, the duo led me into their salon’s inner sanctum.
“I’m beginning to see a color scheme here,” I thought perceptively and intelligently.
Matthew and Madison took a moment to look through their style books to see what they might be able to do for me.
“This is definitely going to be a challenge,” they seemed to be saying.
I felt my first tiny jolt of trepidation when I realized they were looking at books about cows and sheep.
With determination set clearly upon their young but professional countenances, the twins indicated for me to help them up into their work spaces.
“An odd request,” I thought. “They don’t do that at the Barber Pole downtown.” But, the completely compliant client, I obeyed.
And for about sixty seconds, everything seemed to be going well. Just typical stylist assessment techniques such as cranial observation and exploratory scalp manipulation.
Then, inexplicably, I got the distinct impression that Madison was somehow asking Matthew to consult with the monkeys on the wall about the next step.
But before I had time to investigate, they got to work.
“This might be fun,” I thought, kinda smiling.
Madison gently massaged in soothing hair cream.
Healthy hair.
Then they both started to get a little rough, I thought, for ten-month-olds.
Seemingly out of the blue, I sensed a frustrated Matthew yelling to Madison, “Enough of this, sissy! There’s no way to help this old man!”
“Bite him!” she might have said.
“What going on here?!” I thought in terror. “Are they baby vampires or something? Nick at Twilight?! Whatever. I’m outta here.”
As Skedaddler and I hightailed it back to Savannah’s historic district where I live across from Colonial Park Cemetery, I looked in my rearview mirror and thought, “You know, gray’s not such a bad color. It’s kinda in-between.”
(Thanks to Grandtwins Matthew and Madison for help with this post. And the iPhone’s reverse camera.)
Early yesterday morning I drove up to my north-of-Atlanta hometown of Ball Ground for a short visit with my mom and dad.
My dad–Harold or Tub–is 89 (90 in November–come to the party!), and my mom–Geneva–turned 86 in May. I can’t even begin to tell you how much fun we have when I visit. They taught me (are still teaching me) to laugh, to enjoy life.
Here are Ten Reasons I loved my little visit.
1. The early dinner that awaited me upon my 11 am arrival. Okay, for some of you this will be a bit confusing, but in Ball Ground lunch is called dinner, and dinner is called supper. (Breakfast is called Hardees.)
My favorite meal in the whole wide world consists of 1.) my dad’s creamed yellow corn. 2.) My mom’s fried sweet potatoes. 3.) A tomato and an onion.
The corn is scraped, raw, from the cob and meticulously cooked stove top, stirring constantly to keep it from scorching. It has the taste of heaven.
These sweet potatoes look a little burnt, and they should. That gives them the carmelized flavor. Cooked in a large cast iron pan, there’s nothing better. One stick butter, one cup sugar, sliced sweet potatoes. Orange joy.
Oh. My. Goodness. Thank you, Jesus.
2. The bird clock in my parents’ bathroom.
I like it best when the batteries get old, and the hourly bird calls become eerily elongated.
3. Walking around my folks’ small house (which my dad built BY HAND 34 years ago), looking at the bushes and trees.
4. Eating supper at Cracker Barrel. During the meal a very overweight but jolly lady came over to our table and said to my mom, “Honey, can I give you a hug? You remind me so much of my little grandma.” “Why, of course!” Mama replied.
“”Our hugs come in twos,” my dad said with a laugh. And then was amply rewarded.
I thought about saying, “What about me? Three’s company.” But my mouth was full of turnip greens and chow chow.
5. My mother repeatedly getting her supper choice, “eggs in the basket,” confused with a meal she had about forty years ago at IHOP called “pigs in a blanket.”
“Now what do you call this again, Neal?”
From the Cracker Barrel menu: Eggs in the Basket–Two slices of Sourdough Bread grilled with an egg in the middle of each, cooked to order and served with smoked sausage patties, turkey sausage patties or thick-sliced bacon and your choice of Fried Apples or Hashbrown Casserole.
6. Still at Cracker Barrel, as my dad stood in line at the counter paying (he INSISTED), another lady just finishing with paying her bill, saying to my dad, “Here, sir, let me pay for part of your meal with the rest of my gift card. Happy early Father’s Day?” And my dad, a bit confused at first, trying to PAY her for the gift card, before she finally hugged him and said, “No, no, I want to do this for you for an early Father’s Day present!” (While I stood over to the side between the pulled taffy and the Brad Paisley cd, unsuccessfully holding back laughter.)
As we finally left Cracker Barrel, my mom said to my dad, “You sure are hugging a lot of women today. I gotta get you out of this place.”
7. After loading mom’s walker in the trunk, and getting us all in the car, my mom, saying, “Tub, you should have asked that lady what days she usually eats at Cracker Barrel,” sending the three of us into giggles for two red lights, when I said to them, “I wonder if she would like to adopt us as her other family,” (which really wasn’t all that funny, but still got us roaring all over again, in the way you sometimes do when laughter is in the air.) Pulling off the Ball Ground exit from I-575, my dad said, “Those hugs were a pretty good way to spend an afternoon.” Because, of course, it was only 5:00 and we had already finished supper.
8. The feeling, even at my age, of being HOME.
9. The difficult but important discussion we had on this trip about what my mother would do if my dad died first.
“I just hope to goodness I go before Tub.”
“Now Neever (his version of Geneva), we can’t control those things.”
“What I really wish is that we could just go at the same time,” my mom said with total sincerity.
“Well, that might be possible,” my dad said with a twinkle in his eye, “the way I’ve been driving lately.” And we all laughed, at something so unfunny.
10. Experiencing irony as I was leaving Ball Ground the next day, stopping by a convenience store for a Yoo Hoo and a lottery ticket. The long-time teller printing out my ticket, as she mouthed, “straight to hell,” the lyrics of a country song blaring from the radio, and then handing me my Power Ball and saying, “You have a blessed day, sir!”
…at soccer camp and headed back to his house. Traversing up the driveway, discussing Skylander Giants, we both saw this at about the same time:
A small, dead, open-eyed possum in the neatly manicured front lawn. “Look, Abu! A big rat!” Daniel yelled, as he excitedly unbuckled his seat belt, careening toward the thing.
“I think it’s a possum, Daniel, and I also think he’s dead.” (WHY do I use verbs like “think” in times like this? The possum was dead as a doornail with bugs swarming around its head.)
“That means he’s not breathing,” Daniel explained to me.
“Why don’t you go in the house and cool off, while I get rid of our friend?”
“NO!” Daniel screamed. “We have to show it to Mommy!”
“Well, he can stay here for a few minutes.” (Like the possum was going somewhere.)
At about that time, Olivia and Larkin, the cute twins from next door, came running into the driveway, straight from a pool party. And of course, Daniel had to show them …
… explaining that the “rat, I mean possum, was dead and couldn’t move, so don’t touch it till Mommy comes home because we are going to show it to her.”
Happy happy, bo-bappy. Banana fanna, fo fappy. Fe fi mo mappy. Happy! (Did I do that right? I’ve spent about 45 minutes, trying it out with every relative’s name I can think of. I keep messing up.)
Friday. Happy Here’s Five:
1. A little bundle of joy.
(Grandtwin Madison)
2. This funny ad about rum.
*
“When you hurry through life, you just get to the end faster.”
3. Corn bread. Here’s some I made to go with cabbage and sausage the other night.
4. This great quote about talking your JOY.
5. Grandtwin Matthewfeeding Tyler.
May your weekend overflow with joy talk and joy walk.
It’s Cinco de Mayo weekend, so let’s be happy! Here are five more reasons I’m smiling.
1. Ships
2. Getting good deals at the Dollar Tree.
(And being patriotic at the same time.)
3. Grandson Daniel trying to get Grandtwin Matthew to patty cake. (Wait a sec, is it pat-a-cake?)
4. Learning (great emphasis on “learning”) to go with the flow, instead of fighting against it.
5. Grilling pork chops the other night and creating a NealEnJoy Marinadewith apple butter and Dale’s Seasoning. Yum, yum, yum! But I ate them before I thought to take a picture to show you. I considered snapping a quick photo of my belly, but I couldn’t stretch my iPhone out far enough for the reverse camera thingy to get my midsection so bloated. So I thought to myself, “You know, you could probably ‘Google image’ (I just created a new verb!) a pic that would pass as your NealEnJoy marinated pork chops, and, really, who would know?” But after the Googling, I was bamboozled by all the pork chop pictures that came up.
This could be a picture, for example, of my chops …
… except they are in a frying pan. But that frying pan does look like one of mine.
And don’t these look good?
And thick:
And these remind me SO MUCH of how my mama used to fry pork chops for supper.
Then the Internet surfing got weird. Here’s a man grilling pork chops with his standing dog watching.
And I discovered that Republican politicians absolutely LOVE pork chops. Here’s Mitt Romney eating one.
And Texas Governor Rick Perry.
And would you believe it? Here’s John McCain eating a pork chop too.
Not to mention Rudy Giuliani.
I started to call somebody to report my findings about partisan pork, but I didn’t know who. Then, lo and behold, guess who popped up chowing down on a chop?!
And a pork sandwich.
Fifteen minutes and gobs of chop pics later, I started to smell more pork. Then out jumped an advertisement of Miss Piggy hawking her line of perfume called … yep, Pork Chops.
Enough of this foolishness. May we all flow into a beautiful weekend ahead.
Friday, Friday, Friday. Do you connect it with happiness? Here are five reasons I do.
1. Aspiring to being an optimist (even though I was SO SO ready to start a Depression Blog the other day when I tore a fingernail. Sad but true. I’m fine with optimism and happiness and contentment as long as I don’t feel any actual pain. But let me hurt, and for some immature, sick reason, I spiral down. TMI?)
2. Faith.
3. Oatmeal with real butter.
4. Susan Boyle singing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”
As I mentioned in the previous post, this past weekend brought two terrific parties, a street celebration Saturday night and then on Sunday afternoon the Sixth Birthday Celebration for my Grandson Daniel.
Before I escort you to Weekend Party Two, let me just explain that Daniel is one very COOL little boy. And here are Eight Sunglasses-Prominent Pics of D-man to prove it:
(With kindergarten teacher Ms. Lancaster)
(With little brother Gabriel)
Okay, maybe the twin girls froze him up a bit and reduced his coolness by a tad.
But NOT on his birthday. Here he sits, with his green faux hawk (aka fohawk) before his backyard party begins, “patiently” waiting for the Spiderman inflatable to blow up.
Almost there.
“I love it!”
Here’s Batman perched in the trees:
I have NEVER seen a balloon so huge. And the Spiderman pinata, ready to be lowered:
Soon the backyard fills with school and neighborhood friends.
A great hit at the party–the appearance of the folks and animals from Critters-to-Go. The kids (and adults) are fascinated.
“Okay, kids, now let’s all play with snakes!” (Neal’s first thought: “Is everyone here INSANE? What happened to the PRETEND superheroes theme?) Then out of the corner of my eye, I see courageous Batman hiding out in the trees away from all this.
Initially, Daniel’s not so sure. See? He’s a smart boy.
[Warning: If you’re going to read this one, you might want to go get a snack. And maybe a cushion. Wear loose-fitting clothes, comfortable shoes.]
I traveled with daughter Amy, son-in-law Orte and grandsons Daniel and Gabriel to Manhattan last Thursday, returning yesterday. This trip has become our annual spring rite of passage. Except spring didn’t cooperate this year–cold! Brrr! Even a little snow. But what a Grand Time as our Vagabond Shoes left Savannah and headed to the Big Apple.
Easy, FUN flight, even with five- and three-year-olds. No, BECAUSE of five- and three-year-olds.
Cool suite on Park Avenue:
And of course, the first thing the boys want to do upon our arrival in New York? Watch Gravity Falls on TV.
(Okay, maybe it was pretty interesting, all about Dipper’s sister Mabel having a crazy-about-boys summer–at one point she sees a young fella holding a turtle, runs up to him and exclaims, “You like turtles?! I LIKE TURTLES! What’s happening here?!” as she moves her hands back and forth between her and the boy. Finally Mabel sorta falls for a trenchcoated pyramid of Gnomes who want to marry her and make her their Gnome Queen. I had no idea Gnomes could be so pushy.)
Gabriel looking out on the NY skyline from our 27th floor:
(Now do you see why I teach part-time at an art school?! I call it Morning Glory and Green-Haired Cory. Bids start in the upper thousands. Thank you.)
Daniel’s Dragon:
(Those aren’t my blue fingernails.)
First of two Broadway plays: Newsies. Just incredible energy! Google it.
And here’s a pic of the stage/curtain thingy, right before I got yelled at for taking pictures inside the theatre. (I’m sure they didn’t realize they were talking to a world-famous blogger and all.)
I’m thinking about becoming a Broadway star. All that’s holding me back is that you have to sing and dance and memorize lines and get up in front of people and not stutter because you’re so nervous. AND not fall off the stage when you have to walk close to the edge. That part TERRIFIES me. But still.
The most incredible coincidence happened next. Walking back to our hotel to join the fam, I saw Andaz. No not a person, a very cool hotel. We have an Andaz on Ellis Square in Savannah where they give you the MOST delicious Candied Bacon I’ve ever tasted. (Okay, it’s the only candied bacon I’ve ever tasted but SO good.) Of course I had to shashay in to compare Andazes’ (plural possessive?). This sign greeted me when I walked into the lobby:
Hooting Hyenas! SCAD is where I teach as an adjunct. So I hopped on the elevator to the second floor! Wouldn’t you? Why? Well, duh, a reception, and receptions mean one thing … free food. The first person I saw was Joseph; he’s in a writer’s group I sometimes attend:
(I’m not sure why I look so huge and bloated in that picture.)
(Does anyone know how to Photoshop me standing about two feet behind Joseph so I don’t look so very big?)
I chatted with other SCAD folks and even a few newly accepted students and their parents. A fun NY surprise.
Next morning, Grand Central Terminal …
… and waiting for Kidding Around(a very cool toy store) to open–we did F. A. O. Schwarz the day before:
Street vendor hot dogs, of course:
Second Broadway play:Cinderella(with a new spin, including lots of humor and an evil stepsister who turns good).
The Apple Store in Grand Central Terminal for a new case for my iPhone:
Last morning. Daniel and Gabriel reennacting the final scene from Gravity Falls (we watched the same episode three times over our stay) when Dipper rescues Mabel from the Gnomes, and the brother/sister engage in an “awkward sibling hug” with “pat, pat.” (Hulu it. I think the episode is called “Tourist Trap.”)
Blustery/snowy/rainy weather on the way to LaGuardia.
For some reason, less-than-ideal weather always makes me feel better when it comes at the end of a trip. (Reminder to self: therapist talking point.)
While we were waiting at the gate for our flight, a Big Red Heart sauntered up. No clue why. But D is never one to miss a photo op.
Oh, if you were that Big Red Heart, looking where he seems to be looking, you would see this:
It’s an iPad cafe–you order your food right from the iPad. (“Hip” should be my middle name.)
A wonderfully joyful New York trip.
As we waited on the runway, while an animal-like machine de-iced the wings, Daniel looked at me fiddling with my phone and yelled (loud enough for his dad and the rather stern flight attendant to hear), “Abu is not turning off his electronic device!”
