“Frankly”
One-Word Wednesday: 1/26/22
Tag: Photography
Basketball Goodnight
So Husband Robert and I took grandtwin Matthew to his rec department basketball practice this evening.
Matthew is the one with his arms spread in the white T-shirt.
His team is in a basketball dance, of sorts.
After practice:
Abu (my grandchildren’s name for me): “Did you have fun?”
Matthew:”Yes!”
That’s all that matters.
Cactus Talking
About five years ago my cousin Jennie gave my 94-year old father this little Christmas cactus, after he had a serious fall. He was a resident at Cameron Hall Assisted Living in north Georgia at the time and in the early stages of dementia.
It sat on the window ledge beside his bed, keeping him company with small splashes of pink for a couple of years, until he had to move on to the Georgia War Veterans Nursing Home in Augusta. There was no place for the little plant there, so I brought him home for Robert and me to care for.
My dad passed away in 2020 during the height of the pandemic.
The little Christmas cactus (Schlumbergera x buckleyi) grew quiet. All green leaves. No tiny pink explosions. Hushed.
But this winter he sprang back to life. He started talking!
“Life goes on. The cycle continues. Just wait, you’ll see.”
Shhh … Silent Sunday 9/23/22
Five Friday Happy Bringers: 1/21/22
1. Watching and being SO encouraged, as well as entertained, by Mirabel and her crazy family in Disney’s Encanto.
By the way, therapists love this movie! (I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing for the movie.)
2. The incredible gift of eyesight. Even with my Coke-bottle eyeglasses. (Does anyone else even know what that means anymore?)
3. Robert’s yummy pizza.
For some reason he wanted a picture taken of him sprinkling the mozzarella. (Sometimes you just go along with it.)
But if you ask me, his Apple Watch is trying to steal the show.
4. The truth of one of my favorite and most encouraging affirmations: “My body knows how to be well and is always trying to move toward wellness.”
5. Grandson Gabriel playing in his first rec dept basketball game. (He’s also on a team at his school.)
Healthy Weekend to You and Yours!
Hope You Have a Ball!
“The Artful Dodger” #5
A blog category about finding “art” in unexpected places and situations.
On a recent Atlanta trip, Robert and I ventured over to the Callanwolde Fine Arts Center to experience their yearly Christmas extravaganza.
After we enjoyed the very festive inside, (you can read about it here if you have any interest, and why on earth wouldn’t you?), we ventured back out. Robert, always on a quest to find the perfect photo op, hightailed it up these steps to Dr. Goldman’s Memorial Garden (which just looked like a bunch of shivering bushes to me) …
I think they plagiarized that quote from Judy Garland or somebody.
But HR (Husband Robert, remember?) hightailed it a bit too soon, if you ask me. Look back up in the pic above at that flagstone step leading up to Dr. Goldman’s “Garden.”
No, not the middle of the step … to the right. Do you see what I saw? Look closer!
Okay, I’ll help you. Here’s a professional reenactment of the moment I saw her/him/it/they.
A fat little bluish gray bird!
Someone with creative eyes saw the gray flagstone, placed a berry for an eye, and a piece of wood with a leaf for the bird’s wing!
For some reason, that little bird thrilled me (it doesn’t take much) on that cold Atlanta day. So, not to be creatively outdone, I found another little piece of wood and a leaf, and made a baby bird for the fat mama bird!
Maybe it looks a little rough, but give it a break, it was just born! How would you feel if someone posted a picture of you seconds after you were born?
Art in unexpected places.
And look what I found when I Googled more of the lyrics from Dr. Goldman’s plagiarized quote …
Somewhere over the rainbow, BLUE BIRDS fly
Birds fly over the rainbow, why then, oh why can’t I?
If happy little blue birds fly beyond the rainbow
Why, oh why can’t I?
Monday Moaning or Monday Marveling?
This post has a bit of both.
I’ve still marveling at Husband Robert’s culinary chops (and patience) making, this past weekend, a fabulous but time-consuming Au Gratin Potatoes dish.
Here he is, doing prep work, with cheeses whose names I can’t pronounce.
Whenever Husband Robert (let’s just call him HR, you’ll remember what that means, right?) is making something “fancy,” I will wander into the kitchen (most often because of the aroma, similar to what dogs do) and sweet-sincerely ask, “Babe, is there anything I can do to help?” Here’s where the story takes an abrupt turn before it has really even started.
HR doesn’t immediately answer. He presses “pause.”
The pause is substantial, pregnant with meaning. If the pause were a criminal taking a lie detector test, here’s the truth it would freely confess, to avoid jail time:
“Uh, excuse me, Neal, but you don’t really belong in a chef’s kitchen. You are more at home with a cast iron skillet in your Southern hands, frying something. Go read your escapist novel.”
What?! I love my old cast iron …
But here’s what actually birthed out of HR’s full term pause:
“I’m fine.”
(Which basically means the same thing as what that honest criminal said.)
After pouting while joyfully reading Apples Never Fall for a bit, I return. To take pictures. And being a photographer, Robert CANNOT resist pictures being taken of his food.
He bought this new contraption to slice potatoes thinly—which TERRIFIES ME. It’s a potato guillotine.
And I don’t mean to be a cynic or anything, but this is a Big Bunch of Energy Expenditure for a potato.
Here HR is watching a YouTube video WHILE OPERATING THE GUILLOTINE!
“You do it your way. I’ll do it mine,” I think he said to the online chef.
Finally, FINALLY, the Dish is Done. And it looks and smells heavenly.
I find it SO yummy.
But Robert is NOT happy, and when the head of HR is not happy, neither am I.
He moans (and it wasn’t even Monday morning yet).
His problem? Well, being lactose intolerant, he couldn’t use cream or half and half in the recipe, so he substituted almond/coconut milk instead. He thought it didn’t come out creamy enough. Didn’t have the proper scalloped texture or coloring. Sort of Rotten Au Gratin, he seemed to think.
But I thought it was good, actually VERY good, especially for food not fried in a cast iron pan.
Shhh … Silent Sunday 1/16/22
Neal’s Awkward Family Photos: First Edition
My family. I own it …
To be awkwardly continued …
NealEnJoy 