A sisters' trip to mid-Tennessee

Beverly

Saturday, July 16, 8:14 a.m. in the back seat of Bev's Honda Hybrid, I begin writing about a few of the week's activities while vacationing in Fairfield Glade, Tennessee. Today was the end of our annual sisters' trip that began last Sunday, one day after I turned 80. Carolyn and Barbara were the other sibs. We had been comfortably condo-ed in the Oak Knoll area.

Carolyn
Leaving our condo right at eight a. m. --the hour that a roadside truck farmer/ farmer-ess were to set up their stand--we'd stopped for fresh produce to take home: cantaloupe, 'peaches-and-cream' corn, cucumbers and peaches for me. I forgot tomatoes, but later, I begged one from Carolyn. The grizzled man and his super-tanned wife were friendly and helpful.


Friendly and helpful described everyone we met. Clerks in the myriad shops were genial, visiting with us, helping us find things. Then leaving us alone to browse.

Browsing was the name of the game. Huge stores housing Habitat Restore, Bread of Life thrift store (a business of the Crossville Rescue Mission), Good Samaritan thrift store, a thrift store whose sales supported an animal shelter, the Rocking Horse, and too many other venues to recall.

Recalling our "missions," each of the five of us had at least one. (The 5th of our bunch was Glenda, a friend from Evansville, who spent two nights with us.) My mission was to find a "small pocket knife" for my landscaper/ handyman/ brother & heir-to-Couchwood. As G. W. Bush once said, "Mission Accomplished."

Barbara

Accomplishing all we wanted to do--selecting stops, mapping for the best route between them, then letting Siri audibly direct us--was the job of Barb and Glenda, inveterate thrift-store pros. They could smell out desirable places like bears to a food source. That's how we found so many shops.

Shops in the Fairfield Glade Mall were upscale, yet advertised 20-or-30 percent off. I (who rarely shop) purchased two two-piece tops, plus some Christmas gifts.

Gifts we looked for ranged from wall decorations to tiny vases, which would be filled with flowers and taken to Hospice House, or assisted-living homes to be left for clients.

Clients and volunteers kept the thrift stores clean and well-displayed. Folks helping folks seemed the order of the day everywhere we went. And--when we purchased useful items, we were also helping make the area more pleasant and peaceful.

Friend Glenda

Peace reigned in our section of the world, even though chaos erupted in Nice, France. In other places, chaos seemed to be the order of the day. After a week of togetherness, eating, playing Mexican Train dominoes and Phase Ten, watching "Someone Like You" and "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel," and visiting on the deck, we ended our trip in peace and love and anticipation of next year's jaunt.

Edging into eighty -- not at all a bad thing

Grandson Billy and former student/ choir member/present friend

James West at the birthday party

It's certainly better and more hoped for than the alternative, right?

My children (four + grandson Billy), inlaws, grandchildren, nephews, cousins, siblings (five, plus-inlaws) and friends Lydia and StefNi planned and produced the greatest party one could ever imagine.

 
The Salem UMC's (Benton AR) fellowship hall's round tables were decorated in red-white-and-blue (July, of course). The long, long serving table was a Southern Living scene with all the fruit, cheeses, crackers, cookies, sandwiches and goodies one could fathom. A sign-in table with small sheets available for folks to write their own haiku in my honor, a long table with some-stealthily-procurred and otherwise-gathered photos, plus a basket for cards. Unexpected gifts were slipped under the ends of that table.

 

Previously, the publicity included a flyer "commissioned by Gordon (son), created by Barbara (sis) and emailed by Carolyn (sis)." Gordon later posted it on Facebook and wrote an article (he's in Public Relations at Gulf Power in Pensacola) for the Saline Courier.

 

And what was I doing beforehand? 'Way beforehand? Sprucing up the yard AND the house, knowing that various and visiting family would be spending some time at Couchwood.

 

But Bermude grows from one pulling to the next, even through pea gravel, river pebbles and marble chips--all of which I'd de-grassed before--decorated various beds and the sidewalk.

 

Summer's heat meant an every-third-day watering of the north and west property-line plantings of roses, eleagnus, crape myrtle, redbud, spirea and althea. The life-giving water also caused the grass around the rock fence to spring up again.

Dead-heading the dianthus, the coreopsis, the verbena and zinnias to keep them blooming was necessary. Filling in bare spots with baskets of sweetpotato vine, and periwinkles put the finishing, last-minute touch on the yard.

 

Brother Guy, once of P. Allen Smith's employ, served as landscaper par excellence, and also re-sided the north wall of the long-ago-added-on back porch. And like anything new, making the old seem shoddy and seedy, he decided to repaint the other two sides so the entire addition looked new. Even to a new storm screen door.

 

But back to the present. Eighty-five people signed the guestbook and as many more sent wishes or cards to my Facebook page. The mailperson left cards from those who either lived in other places or who couldn't attend the event. Folks arrived from Searcy, Beebe, Tennessee, Oklahoma, Conway, Little Rock, Fayetteville, Hot Springs, England, as well as from the Saline County area.

But the attendee whose coming actually stunned me speechless was Karen Trout, pictured on the left, who drove four hours from the Piggott area. She is on staff at the Hemingway-Pfeiffer Museum and Educational Center in Piggott--a dear, dear person, who insisted that I was a beloved supporter of the writers' retreats there and she wanted to be here.

All this made me grateful that, as my daughter-in-law Karen said, my "village" was so supportive. I can never give enough thanks to everyone who had even the tiniest part in this wonderful celebration.

Edging toward and past eighty isn't so bad. I intend to live to be ninety, Lord willing.



An early-July day in my part of the planet

On the east-facing porch at 7:30 a.m. it's 78 degrees, but forecast to climb into the 90s before the day's over. I've been up since 6:30 this Sunday morning.

Noisy crows--
are they agitated
that their habitat's gone,
replaced by roads
and houses-under-construction?
Me, too.

While I read in the state paper about ISIS versus religious freedom, and the Clinton-Lynch meeting, I stop and realize that my part of the world is quiet. The only sounds are crows to the north, dogs to the south, trains beyond Benton, and the ubiquitous traffic--perhaps headed to early church.

The old cat lies on a porch rug looking over his domain--which is Couchwood's acre. Above him, the flag waves back and forth in the breeze. I sit nearby on the 2nd-or-3rd-or-4th porch swing on this 84-year-old house. The windchime, another peaceful sound, adds to the serenity.

Too early, at 8:00, to prep for a 10:30 choir- call time, I--in gown and duster--sit out while it's still cool.
Oh, I could be pulling grass from the zinnias, but don't want to get dirt under my fingernails (which I filed last night waiting for the computer to boot up [it never did, alas]). Pulling grass, grooming other spots in the yard will have to wait till later tonight around dusk.

I saw on Facebook a "memory of 1-year-ago" which showed my sidewalk project only half finished. Did it really take over a year to complete? (Does Facebook ever lie?)

The sun now shines on the swing, and I move to mid-porch in the shade of a column holding the roof. But before I settle in, I take and post a photo of new coneflower blooms.

Another note of news: In predominately-Buddhist Burma, extremists are persecuting Muslim Rohingyas, a minority.
By nine, the temp has risen, even in the shade, so I head inside. The crows are still noisy. In the yard, tall, yellow blooms of lance-leaf coreopis wave in the breeze, despite repeated mowings of the culprit. "Ha-ha-ha," they seem to say. "You can mow and dig all day, but WE are here to stay!" Okay for now, I say back to them. But just you wait. By Saturday, you'd better be gone or hidden.

After church, a lunch of chicken salad, Cheetos (for "bread," don't you know) and lemonade, then a nap, I return to the Sunday papers.

By 11 p.m. after buying a PDF Suite for the Vista computer so I can access the book-in-progress manuscript, I work on the BIG PUZZLE until midnight. Only three words left to fill in.

And so ends a day in the life of a person who turns 80 years old on Saturday.

[Written July 3 2016 ]

The Couch siblings sans Thurman, July 5 2015

Oh, say! Do you know???

With the flag getting so much press at this time of year, let's go back in time and review that part of its history which produced the "Star Spangled Banner."

Here's some interesting (to me) trivia. See how much you know already; then bluff the rest.

1. Francis Scott Key was a: a. writer; b. doctor; c. lawyer; d. soldier.

2. Our national anthem is a product of this war: a. Revolutionary; b. French-Indian; c. 1812; d. Civil.

3. The tune was originally named: a. God Save the Queen; b. To Anacreon in Heaven; c. The Farmer's Curst Wife; d. John Brown's Body.

4. The original name of the poem was: a. Ride of Paul Revere; b. Battle of New Orleans; c. Surrender of Cornwallis; d. Bombardment of Fort McHenry.

5. Where was F. S. Key when he began writing his poem? a. holding the "star-spangled banner"; b. on an enemy flagship; c. on a small government boat; d. on the shore watching through binoculars.

6. Key first scribbled the words on: a. a flagpole; b. the butt of his rifle; c. an envelope; d. the ship captain’s personal stationery.

7. Who was president when the poem was written? a. George Washington; b. James Madison; c. Abraham Lincoln; d. Herbert Hoover.

8. Who was president when the song became the national anthem? a. George Washington; b. James Madison; c. Abraham Lincoln; d. Herbert Hoover.

9. Where can the original flag still be seen? a. in the Baltimore museum; b. in the Capitol building; c. in the Smithsonian Institute; d. at the Pentagon.

Have you marked your choices?

1. F. S. Key was a Baltimore lawyer as well as a volunteer soldier.

2. It was written two years into the War of 1812.

3. History has it that Key probably had the tune, "To Anacreon in Heaven," a popular drinking song of the day, in mind as he wrote.

4. Key’s brother-in-law, Joseph Hopper Nicholson, had the poem printed with the title, "Bombardment of Fort McHenry."

5.Key and two friends had returned from the British flagship where they had gone with papers from the president stating that their captured colleague, Dr. Beane, was not a soldier and should be released. Their mission was successful, and they were allowed to return to their government boat, but were warned not to go back to shore until the battle was over.

6. He wrote the first draft on the back of an envelope.

7. James Madison, president from 1809-1817.

8. Although Woodrow Wilson signed a presidential order to that effect in 1916, it was not confirmed until President Hoover signed an act of Congress in 1931.

9. The tattered flag resides in the Smithsonian Institute.

A safe and happy Independence Day celebration and remembrance to you all.