Positive Thinking – Page 12

Bright Morning Petanque

Posted on November 13, 2013November 10, 2021 by Neal Saye

Last Saturday, loaded down with a big stack of research paper first drafts, written by my delightful and intelligent international graduate students in our Research, Reading and Writing in Art and Design class at SCAD, I escaped down to Amelia Island, Florida. My Distinct Intention: sitting, for the next two days (since Monday was a holiday) on the patio of the condo, listening to the crash of waves …

… and occasionally eyeing a sea turtle meander up onto the lawn from the protected dunes …

… (this one’s about sixteen inches long) while Determinedly, Professorially marking up student texts. And even though the papers are on fascinating topics, such as the spread of memes through websites, the commercialization of global opera, color’s impact on productivity in the work environment, and how video games make our lives better, can anybody besides me see a potential problem here?

I had no excuse.

But, to be honest, and to defend myself a little, the BETTER part of Saturday had really already vanished by the time I arrived at the condo, unpacked (I ALWAYS unpack–my mama says not to live out of your suitcase), took a much-needed barefoot walk on the beach to calm my nerves after the hour-and-a-half drive from Savannah (okay, maybe I stopped at Starbucks in Brunswick for a quick Salted Caramel Mocha), washed the shells I found …

… thought a while about whether I should make a hip Christmas sea shell wreath or just put them in a glass jar, ran to the Lucky Wok for a spring roll and Balsamic Vegetable Medley, rushed back to the condo and soaked my feet in bath salts–thus it was simply too late to think about grading. Seriously.

So Sunday morning I got up energized–ready!–but, discovering there was nothing in the condo for breakfast except some peanut butter which had gotten beach sand it in and several pints of old strawberry ice cream, I had No Choice but to hightail it over to my favorite historic district Fernandina Beach breakfast place, Bright Mornings Café. (Isn’t that a cool name?)

As soon as you sit down, the FRIENDLIEST wait staff rush over with a variety of muffins, jam, marmalade and coffee. (I wish I lived inside that place.)

(I forgot to take the above pic until after most of the muffins were gone.)

Well, the neatest thing happened next! I was lucky enough to have the World’s Best Waitress, Laura, who, after recommending the breakfast potatoes (boy, was she right!) shared a terrific story. Actually, she shared after I complimented her on her interesting necklace:

She told me that her daughter had given her the necklace, and it represented the body’s chakras. You know about them? Energy distribution centers throughout the body. The lower one is the root chakra, which seems to be powerfully related to our contact with the earth, helping us to be grounded into the earthly plane. Also it represents the center of manifestation, especially with the material world. Anyway, after getting the necklace, Laura explained that she took off her shoes and enjoyed feeling the ground, the earth, with her bare feet. The next day she received a large amount of money. Wow. Whatever we may believe, material increase came to Laura. So cool! I haven’t worn shoes since hearing the story, and ain’t planning to anytime soon! (Kidding.)

Leaving Laura and Bright Mornings (darn it), I thought I should probably go back and start grading, but as I walked down 3rd Street in Fernandina Beach, I saw this sign …

… and it pointed in the opposite direction from where my little car Skedadler sat waiting for me. So, being the lawful person I am, I traversed the way of the sign, and within minutes started hearing people (bunches of people) speaking French and Spanish and Deep Southwest Georgia Drawl and other languages I couldn’t understand.

Well, lo and behold, I stumbled upon a major national sports tournament!

I found myself smack-dab in the middle of the International Petanque America Open Tournament! How exciting is that?! One of the biggest tournaments in all of Petanque!

Okay, okay, I had no clue what Petanque is either. Other people, from all over the world, apparently DO know what it is. Before I explain, a few pictures:

Petanque (pronounced “pay-tonk”), I found out, “is one of Europe’s most popular outdoor games, a cousin of both horseshoes and of the Italian bowling game called ‘bocce’. The game originated in the South of France in the early 1900’s. The aim is to toss, or roll a number of hollow steel balls (‘boules’) as close as possible to a small wooden target ball, called ‘but’ or ‘cochonnet’ (French for ‘piglet’). Players take turns and the team that ends up nearest to the target ball when all balls are played, wins” (petanque-america.com).

Players must stand with both feet firmly planted in a circle when tossing their balls. (Why did I just giggle like a seventh grader?)

Those petanque folks were all SO friendly, even when I kept mistakenly walking onto the playing courts or talking to the players in the middle of their games. (It was all just a bit confusing to me, like Harry Potter’s quidditch, but then again, I never quite got the hang of horseshoes.)

I discovered that the only store in the Americas dedicated to petanque was right there in Fernandina Beach, Petanque America, owned and operated by Philippe Boets, an emigre from Antwerp, Belgium. Doesn’t he have the coolest name, Philippe? I’m thinking of changing my name to something hipper than “Neal.” Any suggestions?

Here I am sitting on the sidelines, trying my best to stay out of trouble and wondering where that man standing in the circle got his shirt and whether or not I should roll up the legs of my pants to look a little more European.

And here I am with Rosemary Szczygiel, a Fernandina Beach petanque enthusiast, who filled me in on the basics of the game.

Such new-discovery fun!

P.S. I had the papers marked by the time I headed back up the road to Savannah.

Delicious Joy

Pot Pie Smiles

Posted on July 10, 2013May 3, 2022 by Neal Saye

One of my earliest joyful memories as a kid finds me meandering off, on warm summer mornings, to the community playground near my house in Cochran Field, near Macon, Georgia. My best friend Billy and I would play until our mothers brought us chicken pot pies and sweet tea. Sitting at the weathered, wooden picnic tables, we would gobble down our pot pies in their little aluminum containers (which we repurposed as treasure collectors).

I have always loved the creamy texture, the flaky crusts, the green peas and carrots, and the homey, Mama-ish warmth of chicken pot pies (or turkey pot pies but NOT cheesy or veggie pot pies). Of course, they were FROZEN SOLID forty-five minutes before I had all those lovey feelings as a child. And back then, I didn’t realize that our mothers were watching The Price Is Right or Queen for a Day instead of preparing fresh, homemade lunches for us boys.

So after buying organic vegetables from the local farm-to-table community market (doesn’t that make me sound health-oriented and grounded yet hip and on-target?), I decided to make a homemade chicken pot pie. HOMEMADE

First of all, do you have ANY clue how long it takes to chop carrots, celery, peppers and potatoes? Boil the corn and then scrape it off the cob? Finely cut the rosemary? Roll out the dough? (Okay, okay, all I did was roll it out of the carton, but still.)

But, oh my goodness, what fun! I may become a famous TV chef or something!

Delicious!

Swanson’s may do it faster, but not better!

Five Friday Happy Bringers

Five Friday Happy Bringers (6/14/13)

Posted on June 14, 2013November 6, 2021 by Neal Saye

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.

5. Beautiful paths to walk down.

Look for some joy this weekend. You’ll find it.

The Joy and Wisdom of Children

The Babies Hair Salon

Posted on June 13, 2013December 23, 2021 by Neal Saye

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.)

Life Experiences

10 Reasons I Loved My Little Trip to Visit My Folks

Posted on June 7, 2013November 6, 2021 by Neal Saye

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!”

A joyful, blessed trip.

The Joy and Wisdom of Children

Oh Possum! (Warning: A Bit Gross)

Posted on June 6, 2013February 9, 2022 by Neal Saye

So Tuesday I picked up grandson Daniel …

…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.”

Her expression says it all.

(Touch it?!)

Five Friday Happy Bringers

Five Friday Happy Bringers (5/17/13)

Posted on May 17, 2013November 6, 2021 by Neal Saye

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 Matthew feeding Tyler.

May your weekend overflow with joy talk and joy walk.

Five Friday Happy Bringers

Five Friday Happy Bringers — 4/26/13

Posted on April 26, 2013 by Neal Saye

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.”

Yes, I’m a Boyle fan.

5. Playing ball with Gabriel:

And you have a ball this weekend!

In Our Own Backyard, The Joy and Wisdom of Children

D-Man, Superheroes and Snakehandling: Party Weekend–Party Two

Posted on April 23, 2013November 6, 2021 by Neal Saye

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.

That soon changes.

“Here, Abu, you hold him too.”

My drug-induced-looking smile is for the camera. I’m really thinking: “Is there ANY possible way to spank this child with over fifty people watching?”