Trilla

Finally!

2008-05-10T14:51:00.003-04:00

Finally! And for a couple of reasons.

First, I’m back on the blog. No promises, but here I am today after a hectic six or so weeks since my last visit.

Second, maybe more important, the gentling Ginger gender mystery is resolved. No more gender guessing. No more Thomas or Thelma?

Thursday, we managed to coerce, force, drug her/him into a cat carrier and make the long overdue visit to the vet for a check-up, shots and the final answer. But no, at least, not at once. “Well?” I demanded. My vet friend looked chagrined. He couldn't tell either. Ginger wasn’t being gentle. He/she was not going into this examination routine without a bit of help from some anesthesia.

Later in the day, after some medical adventures of my own, I called the vet for the results.

Why was it so hard to determine? The vet’s best guess is that Ginger had been caught in a feral cat round-up, neutered, and set free. The ear notch is most likely a mark declaring “Don’t round me up again, you’ve had me once!”

Ginger isn’t completely gentled yet, but feral is no longer an appropirate description.

Please welcome, finally. . .Thomas Jefferson Pando!

Gentling Ginger VII First Cat

2008-03-31T11:16:00.002-04:00

The first cat is getting a bit fed up with all this Ginger gentling and has asked, firmly asked that I speak on her behalf.

Dolley Mae Madison Pando declares that she was here first and that makes her definitely First Cat. Besides her indecisive owners can't even decide if Ginger is Thomas or Thelma. People!

[Editor's note: Dolley M. is mostly right. She was first cat in the house, but Ginger was hunkering under the azaleas when she arrived. (See Gentling Ginger I.) That was before the editor had a change of heart.]

Dolley M. continues that not only has she been working hard as First Cat, she keeps the editor's head warm at night by stretching out across her hair. She has also spent long hours serving as Bob's muse as he finishes his disseratation. (See entries for March 3, 2006 and February 26, 2008.) She adds that he is defending this afternoon, and while she is unable to attend she'll be sending good thoughts and hope you will as well.

Meanwhile, she finds this entire Ginger thing rather boring.

White Iris

2008-03-30T15:03:00.002-04:00

Spring is beautiful all over. I can't leave my house here in Bainbridge without slinging a camera over my shoulder. It's not just my garden (call it a jungle!) that's over the top. It's the whole town. I'll share some of this glory in the next few days.

One of my favorite stops is my neighbor around a corner and down the street. I exclaimed so much that's she's told me to prowl around and take all the pictures I want. That's great, 'cause she's one of the town's premier gardeners.

On my last foray, I captured some of her breath taking white iris. It made me thing of my mother and grandmother's gardens. How they treasured the iris. They bloomed later--deep into April or early May. The wait made them all the more welcome.

When I returned home and checked a few of my favorite blogs--no surprise! I'm not the only one who loves white iris. Share some Texas hill country beauties from Susan Albert's Lifescapes. If you haven't been there, plan to spend a little time (or more). She take you on a tour of her home, and then let you join her own blogtour. She's at http://susanalbert.typepad.com/

Gentling Ginger VI Thomas or Thelma?

2008-03-26T08:11:00.006-04:00

Oh dear. Here we've been married almost 50 years and have three children. You'd think one of us could figure out if a cat is a boy or a girl, but. . .Our initial diagnosis (guess) about Ginger is back in question. He/she's coming in the house now--Dolley M. puts up with it--and allows petting, but no, absolutely no, picking up or cuddling which make the exam difficult. And so next week it'll be off to the vet for the verdict. Whatever the outcome, we'll do the socially responsible thing.

Meanwhile, is it Thomas Jefferson or Thelma Ryan? Here she/he enjoys a little time in the house.

Busy days, blazing spring

2008-03-25T13:10:00.003-04:00

The Georgia State Flower, the Cherokee Rose, flourishes on the ancient fence in front of our house. There's a lovely legend about the rose--I'll tell it soon. Maybe too, I'll tell the story of a neighbor who took it upon himself to take down our almost eighty-year-old fence. I taught him what "it's my fence" means!

I've been busy. We've been busy. Bob's almost through! Let me catch up. Following an involuntary retirement, Bob decided to fulfill one of his forever dreams and go to graduate school. (Fatherhood at 20 had precluded it almost 50 years ago.) Once he got started, he couldn't stop. After he got an MA at Florida State, the history department asked him to stay. See the March 3, 2006 entry for some background (how can it have been 2 years?). He turned in his dissertation last Monday. Now he's doing all the finishing touches before he defends next Monday. I've been helper doing all the things that are legitimate for the nonauthor to do. (My rule of thumb--if he could have paid someone to do it, then I will.) I've proofread 'til my eyes swim, checked footnotes and taught myself to do tables on the computer, while he's done the heavy thinking, writing, and editing. Neither one of us has thought or talked about much else.

With all my good intentions, the blog has suffered.

So here I am in my third March blogging, and I can't help myself. It's too beautiful. So one more time share a blazing Bainbridge spring! Dogwoods float around the cypress (our Christmas tree about 20 years ago). Azaleas planted in 1933 thrive on the side of the house. It's a good time to be here!

Maybe more on Ginger tomorrow. There's a serious question. She may not be Thelma.

Gentling Ginger V It's a girl!

2008-02-26T11:45:00.004-05:00

Bob's been in much closer communication with Ginger, and we can now say with confidence--Miss Ginger. Maybe considering her beat-up appearance we should say Ms. Ginger.

Now a new dilemma--an official name? For reasons, or nonreasons, I'll go into later, we use presidential and first lady names for our pets. We've had Eleanor and Frankie D. (Also Miss Lucy Mercer--but, again, a story for another day). The current ruling feline is Dolley Madison Pando--sometimes known as Dolley Mae. A fella cat was going to be easy--Thomas Jefferson, but a chick cat?

We have two choices--going for the nickname, we can dub her Elizabeth Virginia Truman, or going for the red-headed angle, there's Thelma Catherine Ryan Nixon. (She named herself Patricia when she started college.) I'm leaning toward Thelma Ryan (Ginger) Pando. She quiet, a bit aloof, and from the looks of her left ear, able to endure adversity. Seems like a natural. Besides, do you think that there's ever been a cat named after our 34th first lady?

Here's Thelma. I'll try to get a close-up of that right ear.

Gentling Ginger IV More Contact!

2008-02-22T13:47:00.006-05:00

We did it! Rather Bob did it. While I was out roaming Texas, hanging out with friends, generally having a good time, he was back here in Georgia bringing out food three or four times a day and crooning, "Here, Gingie, Gingie, Gingi."

I'm not the only one to be wowed by his sweet words. Ginger is now definitely his cat. I don't speak kitty very well, but I can translate the plaintive meow I hear when I try to be the bearer of good food. "Where's my fellow? He's the one who feeds me."

Ginger has (except for some of our recent rainy days) abandoned under the house and taken up permanent residence on the kitchen porch. Bob made a bed from the rug that used to live in front of the sink.

Moon over Bainbridge

2008-02-21T09:11:00.002-05:00

Thank goodness my daughter called. All day I'd thought about the lunar elipse, and then I forgot.

Sometimes I love living in a little, tiny town almost in the country, and then, other times, I ache for city lights and more to do in the evening than be a political junkie on MSNBC or a zombie watching Law and Order reruns for the fourth time. Last night, the dark skies of the Georgia countryside won hands down.

Notes from the Road

2008-02-12T14:15:00.001-05:00

Home again. I’m still relishing the heady excitement of Stories from the Heart and wonderful visits later in Austin and Houston—a great balance to my usual quiet small town living; although Bainbridge is beginning to share its early spring glories. (We all run around warning each other that we’re likely to have another frost.) More about this on Valentine’s Day.
Meanwhile, I’ll share a few more conference and Austin memories. At the conference, we gathered for panel discussions and writing practice sessions. Nancy Aronie’s presentation was inspiring—someday I’m going to one of her workshop. We ended the Conference on a true high note. At the closing luncheon, Austin singer/performer sang and chanted, and then, she had everyone in the room on their feet singing and chanting joyfully. What a sendoff!

Fellow board member Joyce, and I stayed over for the Monday night board meeting. What to do? Books! Of course, as if we hadn’t had enough of the written word. Sunday afternoon we headed to the legendary Austin book store, Book People and loaded up. Monday afternoon, tired and with time on our hands, we took our books and notebooks and headed for Jo’s Coffee, a hangout on South Congress. The view from the table included the legendary Austin Motel and in the distance the State Capitol.

We enjoyed books, each other, new friends and some balmy Austin weather.

In Austin with Stories from the Heart

2008-02-01T22:58:00.000-05:00

I've left Bob to tend to Ginger--the votes are coming in for her in the her/him mystery--the adopted tree and all the Bainbridge doings, while I'm in Austin at the Story Circle Network's Stories from the Heart Conference. I wouldn't miss it. Women from all over, this year 17 states and Canada, gather to tell and listen to our life stories.

It's been a wonderful, and busy, day. First everyone pitched in with the set-up. All must be ready and bright and shining when registration opened at noon.

Next, Story Circle founder and President Emerita Susan Wittag Albert led an all-too-short pre-conference workshop on writing about place, "Mapping Our Stories." We did lots more than write. We all had crayons and traced our lives out on a map, and then drew maps of our personal community. The air was alive, you could about hear the popping of insights.

The evening closed with an energy-filled presentation (speech doesn't do it justice) by Nancy Aronie, author of Writing from the Heart: Tapping the Power of Your Inner Voice. Here she is with Story Circle Executive Director Peggy Moody. Nancy is on the right.

This hotel if full of fingers itching for tomorrow to come so we can grab our pens and write, write, write.

Gentling Ginger III Contact!

2008-01-31T09:40:00.002-05:00

Contact!

We did it. Ginger was pussyfooting in the door, out the door, couldn’t make up his/her mind. I got down and enticed—to no avail, but then Buddy Bob gave her a chance. It only lasted about 5 seconds—long enough for a picture. But we’ve made contact. This kitty is about to trust us.

Adopt a tree

2008-01-30T19:26:00.000-05:00

Several years ago, I journeyed up to the botanical gardens in Atlanta to take a class on drawing trees. It was a wonderful experience. I didn’t produce a masterpiece, but I had a wonderful day outside. Plus, I learned lots about looking. There are many ways to see a tree.

The instructor suggested we adopt a tree for a year. She didn’t mean we should dig up a tree and take it home. No, she suggested we pick a tree in our own yard or somewhere that we were regularly and study it. Draw it. Look at it from all directions and different times of day for the year.

Know the tree.

I propose to do that only with photographs instead of drawing. I’ve picked my tree. I didn’t choose one of our towering pines—more about them another time, nor did I choose a fine live oak. I’ve picked a little tree near the curb in my front yard. A persimmon tree.

When we first moved in, I had no idea what the somewhat scrawny tree was. The first year we were here it produced exactly one persimmon, and a bird ate it. Now twenty years later we had a hugely abundant harvest. We gave fruit away, we mailed fruit across the country to friends. We munched on persimmons for breakfast and dinner. What bounty. Now that we have had some frost the fruit is gone. What we did not pick to eat or share, the birds made sure did not go to waste. This afternoon the tree was bare save for one lonely, last piece of fruit.

Gentling Ginger II

2008-01-30T18:14:00.001-05:00

Ginger is coming along. She’s let Bob touch her. It was brief, but it was a touch. We’re encouraged. We enticed her into the back door with the lure of breakfast and warm after a cold night, but mostly she/he (we still haven’t solved that mystery) keeps her distance watching us from the edge of the porch or from under the Jeep.

She explored around the sunroom for a little while and then encountered the resident cat, Dolley. A spat ensued, but Ginger retreated outside and Dolley recovered nicely on her favorite resting place, the sheepskin.

I’d worried about Ginger on the cold nights, and then I discovered that her pal Bob had moved some bricks. She’s been warm and cozy under the house.

I’m leaving tomorrow for about ten days in Texas. I expect by the time I return that Ginger and Bob will be best buddies.

Gentling Ginger I

2008-01-27T17:30:00.002-05:00

For a year, maybe more, this orange (I call it ginger) cat has been hanging around our house. It (we haven’t settled the he/she issue) strolled the front porch, peaked in the kitchen window, hid under the Jeep (scary) and meowed pitifully from under the azaleas.

We agreed on one thing. No more cats. Resident cat Dolly felt strongly about this.

“Shoo! Scat! You go on home where you belong.” Each time we saw it, we ran him/her off. It came back. We ran it off. It came back.

Around Thanksgiving, I don’t know, maybe it was the holiday spirit, I began to mellow. I sneaked a little dry cat food out under the azaleas. I didn’t tell Bob or Dolley. The next morning it was gone. Then I sneaked a little more. Bob caught me.

I didn’t stop. Bob gave up, next thing you know he’s joined the campaign.

“Here, Ginger, Ginger, Ginger. Want a little snack?” Once you name an animal there’s no going back.

Ginger will come up on the porch to eat, even meow to call for his/her breakfast if we aren't early enough. But there's no touching. She/he's had a hard life, it's clear from the chewed-on ear and the darting eyes. I suspect that human treatment hasn't been much better than what's come from other cats and few dogs. Now we're determined, we will gentle Ginger and bring a new member to our family. (It's hard to avoid those pronouns.)

Here’s Dolley regarding Ginger through the kitchen window. She’s not on the welcome committee--yet!

I'll keep you posted on the gentling of Ginger.

Blooming Bainbridge

2008-01-27T15:21:00.000-05:00

It’s warmer today and Sunday, a perfect day for an after-lunch-and-too-many-political shows walk. Here at the end of January after a week unseasonably cold weather, guess what?
Bainbridge is in bloom! Here are some examples. Trees like this first one must blossom all over America. They flourish in front of houses with high school scholars inside. (That’s a Bainbridge Bearcat sign in the background.) Here are the toilet paper flowers on a “wrapped” tree after a couple of days of rain.
It looks lots like this natural beauty. A nearby Japanese magnolia(on the right) has bravely put out its natural and much more beautiful blossoms. I don’t know how they survived the 27 degrees we had the other night. I’m mighty glad they did! Made me smile to see these trees looking so much alike from a distance and so different close up. Like a lot of things in life
This nearby fruit tree (I think it’s a cherry) adds color to the January day.

Cold winter day

2008-01-26T15:42:00.000-05:00

Count me wrong. That sabbatical stretched way out beyond the trip to Texas, right on through the summer, the fall, the holidays, and now, here I am back again.
Midwinter in South Georgia. Usually we’re bragging about blooming camellias like these, mild days, walks in the park.

Not this year, we are cold, and today we’re wet. You’ll hear no complaints around here. After the driest year in ages, we welcome every drop—warm, cold. We’d love it if it were white.
Not much chance. In twenty-one years, we’ve seen snow about four times. Came close the other morning, though. With the thoughtlessness that accompanies a frost-free life, we forgot to turn off our sprinkler system the night last week that the temperature fell to 27 degrees. Brrrrr. We woke to white stuff. Although it wasn’t the ‘real thing,’ it was fun.
Now today is cold, tonight is forecast to be colder. (We’ll be sure to turn off the water.) It’s a good day to stay in and read, or revisit a long neglected blog.
I’ll willing to bet I’ll be back. I’ve got a great incentive. Next week is the fourth Stories from the Heart conference sponsored by Story Circle Network in Austin. I’m on the panel that’s discussing blogging—and I haven’t since May. Oh! Oh Dear! I’m going to make up for lost time this week. Then, I hope, I’ll be back in the habit. I have a project in mind that will get me on once a week. More about that tomorrow.
Meanwhile, learn more about the conference by visiting http://www.storycircle.org.

Welcome back to South Georgia.

return from sabbatical

2007-05-27T16:17:00.000-04:00

After a spell, a long spell, I'm back. Enough said without saying anything about the absence. 'Cept I've been on the road a lot since that last post. Since this is supposed (I thought) to be about small town living, I didn't have much to say. Since January I've been to Texas twice (driving both ways), Mexico (Copper Canyon, wow!) and Abilene, Kansas (more interesting than you'd think), plus Atlanta a couple of times. Now we're hitting the road for 3 weeks in Texas again tomorrow.

It occurs to me that since I'm not living much in this little town, I can't write much about it, but I can share being on the road--oh Jack, oh Jack where are you?

I'll be putting post up from along the way, fresh and frisky from the sabbatical.

It's good to be back.

What fun

2007-01-06T22:49:00.000-05:00

In my last post, I mentioned our Christmas Eve plans of going to a Falcons game at the Georgia Dome in Atlanta. We did. Great fun even if we did lose rather badly. Most fun of all was our Christmas gift from our daughter--the in thing for Falcon Fans--jerseys--our's have our names and numbers--our birth years! Now 60,000 folks know how old we are. Here we are modeling them at a pregame party.

Oh what fun it is

2006-12-23T06:05:00.000-05:00

Fun and busy, that’s been December—a some time preceding it. I’ve been working with some great folks at The Bainbridge Post-Searchlight put some of my columns about the great folks of Southwest Georgia into a book.
We got it done!
Now is the real fun!
Last Thursday night was Downtown Christmas in Bainbridge. We all took a step back in time to the days when we met our neighbors on the Square to visit and to shop together. The weather was mellow and so were we.
Especially over in the “Book Nook” where Jim and Faye had great refreshments and lots of folks dropped by to share some memories as I signed my book, Stirring up memories all the times.
What made me smile the most was when the families who have generously shared their stories with me came by to pick up copies for the children and grandchildren.
If you’d like to share the fun of life in years gone by in Southwest Georgia, you can visit the Book Nook online and drop Jim an e-mail. He’ll be happy to send you the book. http://www.bainbridgebooknook.com

If you’d rather contact The Post-Searchlight or me. The links are on this page. One way or the other, I’ll make sure you get a copy. Let me know how you like it!
Later today, we hit the road along with so much of America. The granddog (he's been spending his Christmas holidays with us and his favorite cat), Dotty-the-cat, the gifts, the wonderful smoked pork butt I bought from the FFA at the high school, a poinsettia or two, Bob and--will there be room for me? will head north to Atlanta. We're putting a new twist on Christmas Eve. We're looking for Santa at a Falcons game! Going to be more fun!

Harvesting and sowing

2006-12-22T15:39:00.000-05:00

The first day of winter. A year ago I watched the season in England as I welcomed my new granddaughter. Today I am home in South Georgia enjoying a mild December. We’ve had a touch of frost—enough to take away the summer annuals, but the camellias continue to flourish as does our kumquat crop.
When I grew up in Amarillo, kumquats were a Christmas treat. Santa always left them—just a few piled into a pint strawberry basket with a few dried up leaves. What a joy to have a tree full to share with our friends.
I love to harvest them on the first day of winter. Then I plant poppy seeds that will burst in to bloom in May. What a treat—harvesting and sowing on the first day to grow long. The poppy seeds enjoy extra luck this year! Within five minutes of the time they entered the ground a soft and gentle rain began. That's a rose in bloom at my feet! A good way to spend the opening day of the season.

Back home

2006-12-22T15:08:00.000-05:00

Lost. Been so long since I’ve posted that I feel like this little lost puppy. She showed up outside my study door in the late afternoon. She was all dressed up for Christmas; she had to belong to someone, but she surely wanted to stay at our house.
The next morning, the puppy was at the door. Bob made a sign to let passersby know we had a lost puppy. With the help of a friend she was now temporarily named Noel. No owner called but the newspaper publisher did. He asked for a picture—Noel made the front page of the webpage. We took her to the Animal Shelter (with the proviso that we’d find her a home if the owner didn’t appear). The owner did. Noel is home for Christmas.
And I am glad to be back here!

November welcomes flowers

2006-11-03T06:04:00.000-05:00

In South Georgia we are never without flowers. Our calendar fills with blossoms.

I stepped into my yard yesterday, November 2, to find that we've welcomed the Thanksgiving month with a special blossom. The first camellia of the season. This bush is well over seventy years old. It was planted by Mr. Elcan many years ago when he was the garden's guardian. (See my early post about him.)

My kitchen garden has been ablaze with cassia for a couple of weeks. What a welcoming sight on a chilly morning. I hope it blazes away until Thanksgiving when my Houston band arrives.

I've been on the run lately, so few postings. No. No postings. I'm heading out to Austin for Story Circle affairs this morning. It's hard to leave the garden.

Harvest in Georgia

2006-10-10T23:15:00.000-04:00

Did you look at at the huge moon floating above us last weekend? The harvest moon, the full moon closest to the autumnal equinox, is aptly named in our part of the world. Two of our largest and most spectacular crops are at full harvest time right now. The roads are fill with tractors and trucks hauling trailers full of peanuts and the air is full of the tangy aroma. Yummy! And those boiled peanuts are being sold on just about every corner.
Fields that aren't loaded with peanuts are ladened with cotton. Shining in the sunshine, a field of cotton is lovely indeed.
A few years ago, there was not a boll of cotton in our county. Now it's one of our largest crops. Here's a nearby field I snapped on the day of the Harvest Moon.

Be still, my heart

2006-10-04T14:53:00.000-04:00

I've been roaming around Tallahassee getting the lay of the land and the sense of the neighborhood. On a morning walk this sign grabbed my attention and for just a minute, my heart.
If anything were ever true!!!
Daughter Katy who is old enough to know her own mind (But that's been true since she was 5!) bought a motorcycle not to very long. And there is a long story about it that is not mine to tell. I enjoy hearing about her adventures, and, maybe, I have bragged a little bit about my daughter's bravery and independence.
Still and all, there's lots of truth in this sign. Think I should frame this picture for her Christmas present?

Grayness

2006-09-14T18:51:00.000-04:00

Fog gauzes my vision encasing me in solitude. There is no dawn, yet light does come. I am not alone. Sister Spider emerges from grayness, my neighbor and my friend.