Busy Saturday

6:45 a.m. - Jed phoned yesterday and said the Lowe's people would be here at 7:00 a.m. today to install the doors!

Ramey's book signing at the Little Professor Store is at noon, but unless the workers finish before then, I won't get to go. If they do finish up quickly, Jed and I will ride over to Homewood and try to find the place.

Right now I need another cup of coffee--I just got out of the shower and dressed, and I feel great! Except I need another cup of coffee.

More of the Same

Speaking of heroes-->>>>>>>>

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Mea culpa

At a family gathering recently, I spoke slightingly of the effort of one of our poetry group's members. I'm ashamed of myself.

I'd like to deliver my speech about The Trouble With Modern Poetry, i.e., that there are no standards--but I'm too put out with myself to speechify. Besides, as Walt Whitman said about a bird, "If thou wast not given to sing, thou would'st surely die." The same may be true of modern poets. Who am I to say? I'm just one of the birds.

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The "family gathering" was Ramey's birthday supper cum birthday cake, insisted upon by Master Reed Agan, which took place I think it was Wednesday evening. This was, to my knowledge, the third celebration of this birthday of Ramey's, and I suspect the most congenial and satisfying, as more people were there, and "Happy Birthday" was sung with gusto. I certainly enjoyed it immensely, gobbling pizza and birthday cake as if I hadn't eaten in a week.

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I've figured out what's wrong with the green lamp: The glass chimney is too high. With a shorter globe, it won't look so ungainly and top-heavy. I hope.

Poems and Heroes

These lines kept running through my mind, and I wanted to read the whole poem:

Bear down upon me, winds of destiny;
I'll show you how to tote a heavy load!

I'll show you how to breathe hot wind that's free!

I'll show you how to climb a boney road!

I thought they were by Countee Cullen, but can't find them anywhere. I remember first reading that poem when I was 10 or 12 years old, and I thought it was a pretty reckless challenge. "Just asking for it!"

Countee Cullen, 1903-1946

Even if he didn't write it, he was that brave and stoical.
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My lamp arrived yesterday, something of a disappointment. It's in brand-new condition, and will go perfectly in the living room. But I thought it was yellow, and it turns out to be green. And the shade sits too high.

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All-Day Singing and Dinner on the Grounds

I wonder if any of the old country churches still hold such events. If I could find one that does, I might join it.

An Evening Out

Last night I went to the poetry reading at the Arts Council building. (I'm making a resolution to go to every meeting.) The group meets on the last Monday of every-other month. When I attend, I find myself wishing we met every month.

I did get there on time yesterday, but the group had already arrived and arranged chairs in the lobby--which was much more congenial than a table in the meeting room. There were Joan and Frank, Cookie, Sherry, Joe W., and a gentleman named DeWitt who is something at one of the schools, I didn't catch all the details. Cookie read her "Cats" poem, and Joan also had a poem about how she and Frank acquired a cat ironically named Angel. Sherry read a reminiscence, and Joe shared a poem about a very moving personal experience from his childhood, and another one about the phenomenon of aging. Everyone read several pieces; Frank had a group of very brief verses, plus a couple of longer poems. I guess Mr. DeWitt (actually, that's his first name) took the prize for longest poem; his was an analogy about the Gulf of Mexico, very insightful.

I read "Exodus," "Splendor Before a Storm," "The Muse Contemplates Departure," and "Jane Austen Never Married." Everyone had very kind comments. They even understood "Departure," maybe because I took the trouble to utter an explanatory sentence before I read it. It's about the environment, earth, rather than exclusively about poetry. They made me read the last part of "Jane Austen" twice:

But you almost found him, didn't you, once or twice?

You were right in his path once, almost, weren't you?

You caught a glimpse of his white horse through the trees,

A sunbeam flashed on his armor, and you saw

The plume on his helmet disappear into the forest.

I had brought along a copy of Ramey's book, Sweet Music on Moonlight Ridge, for show-and-tell, in case anyone hadn't seen it. I think everyone except Cookie and DeWitt had read it. We discussed the book and its characters, and I told a little bit of background about life on the mountain. Everyone said to tell Ramey "hi" and congratulations.

A sad note was Gail W.'s absence. Joe said she'd had chemo in the past week, and it takes several days for her to get back to feeling well.
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Happy Birthday to Ramey! She's about 21 today, give or take a few. She and I went to lunch Sunday to celebrate in advance, at Caney's Fork or Creek or Park, or something, I can't keep that name right in my muddled head.

Art Nouveau influences in American Arts & Crafts

Mucha, Galle, Daum, Lalique--

Peacocks, butterflies, cats, grapevines, women with weird hair--

There are quite a few of these elements in my hoard of stuff, such as my charcoal peacock drawing, a peacock picture on a basket by Ramey, a tumbler or vase with raised vines twisting around it, my Pompeiia painting, a crystal cat that's almost identical to a Lalique cat, and lots of other things.

If I could just get it all together!

Ramey's book signing in B'ham is set for next Saturday, so I'll have to postpone my yard sale--which I needed to do anyway. Sometime in August, the weather will probably take a turn towards Autumn, and that will give me more time to get things organized, anyway.

Decisions, decisions!

I've been trying to decide whether to sell this quilt top, or to have it machine-quilted. My eyes and I are too old to think about hand-quilting it.

I think this big old (12"+) butterfly will fit in with my Arts and Crafts theme for the house. Today I painted it white and gave it some little eyes. It was originally one of those corroded-looking brass objects that are made in India. I got it at the thrift store--A long time ago, my sister Ramey and I went to the thrift store. We didn't ask anyone else to go with us, but then we never do.

EBay research

Several years ago, the Antiques Roadshow filmed here in Birmingham at the Civic Center. I took my metal plaque of the Last Supper to see what I could find out about it. The gentleman who finally spoke to me more or less brushed me off. He didn't know what kind of metal it's made of, but he said it's worth less than a hundred dollars. I don't know what kind of metal it's made of; I suspect lead, but is lead very hard? The plaque is extremely hard metal. It isn't iron, because it doesn't rust (does cast iron rust?). It isn't silver, because it doesn't tarnish. Where the black paint or glaze has been scraped away, it's extremely shiny and stays that way. I guess it's lead.

Some time after the Roadshow, I painted over it with white acrylic paint, which will wash off, so that I could see the details. On eBay I've found an antique plaque, similar to mine but finer and more intricate, made of silver; and another antique, also very finely worked, made of copper and marked by a maker in Germany. My plaque is almost exactly like the German copper one, except that mine is extremely pocked and blurred, as if details have been worn away over time; but I know that's not the case, because of the hardness of the metal and the intact nature of the black glaze.

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The German copper one:

I tell myself that I didn't want to sell mine anyway. But if it were worth several hundred or a thousand, like the antiques, would I be that resolute?

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There are other replicas on eBay, some made of alabaster and other stuff, even plastic. From what I've read about them, I think mine was probably made in the U.S., in the 1940s or '50s.

Almost time for a nap!

I spent a great deal of time today constructing an odd-shaped box to fit around this ugly old Red Wing pitcher, and inside a bigger box. I'm always scared stiff that these fragile things I ship will reach the buyer in a thousand splendid shards.

I did get another useful thing or two done. One was calling the doctor's office and getting my old prescription reinstated. That new stuff gave me intense nausea every time I took it, and I have completely tapered off of it, but feel that I need to go back on the old stuff.

I also succumbed to the temptation to bid on a lamp on eBay, and accidentally won it. I'm really glad, because it's a beautiful old tin toleware lamp, the kind I've wanted ever since I started thinking about lamps as anything except a source of light.

I've also planted my little sunflower plants in a sunny spot--should have done this a long time ago. Actually, in two sunny spots. And transplanted one of the non-blooming lily of the valley plants. Maybe it'll bloom next year.

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We just had a good hard rain shower.

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"Who loves the rain, and loves his home,

And looks on life with quiet eyes,

. . . Nor hell nor heaven shall that soul surprise."

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Something like that. Emerson, I think. Ralph Waldo.

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Last night--no, Monday night--I watched two old movies on TCM while making little quilt yo-yos. They were "Soylent Green" and "2010." I had never seen the latter before. It was right silly. Sillier than "2001: A Space Odyssey." If not for TCM, I would try to get rid of television altogether. There's just nothing on any more, not even the TV guide channel--Paris Hilton has taken that over. No more "Golden Girls" reruns. Of course, you can always watch the news, if you can stand it.

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This morning I was looking at an old book about the American Arts and Crafts movement. There was a photo of a Frank Lloyd Wright window that looks very much like the glass in my front door-to-be. Lowe's phoned a few minutes ago and said my "lock set" had arrived. I assume this is the hardware for the front door. I asked her to hold it until the door comes in.

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I also planned the yard sale which I hope to have organized by the weekend after next, July 30-31. If people would buy all the stuff I want to sell for a dime apiece, it would be worth having a yard sale. I'm going to need some moderately heavy lifting help. There's a big TV set in the guest room closet, sitting on top of a cheap but very heavy and sturdy night stand. That's a very good TV set, or I suppose it still is. I bought it at Wal-Mart many years ago, and it always made the prettiest picture--colors were soft, bright and true. It has been in that closet, disconnected, for 8-10 years. I can plug it in and check to see if it's still in working order.

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Also, I may decide to sell that nearly immovable iron anvil sitting on the hearth, if I can find 2-3 men strong enough to get it down the stairs. Or maybe sell it, and let the buyer worry about moving it.

Farewell to Ow-EE

My cousin Milton Alfred Satterfield died Saturday. He was known in the family as "Little Alfred," and at least as a child he was the image of his father, Alfred Franklin Satterfield. When he first started talking, he couldn't pronounce Alfred, and called himself "Ow-ee." When he grew up, he became Milton. I remember him well, and hope to see him again someday, in the Sweet Bye and Bye.

Yesterday I worked some more on my Camilla quilt. Or throw.

"I long ago lost a hound, a bay horse, and a turtledove

. . . and am still on their trail." (Thoreau, Walden)

Well, I lost the squirrel who was sitting on yon "rock" eating his lunch. By the time I got back with the camera, he was gone, of course. I thought, as long as I had the camera out there, I might as well use it.

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This is the limb where the hawk sat one day last week, when I didn't have the camera out. Framed, she was.

My crape myrtle.

Jerry/Jared's pretty bed of cone flowers, zinnias and marigolds.

Cloud lady eating lunch or smoking a cigarette.

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I accomplished a thing or two this morning, including calling up and speaking sharply to PayPal. They changed the shipping label procedure and I couldn't figure it out. Why is it when something isn't broken, people want to fix it, or at least change it?

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Speaking of lunch, I think I'll go reheat a bowl of chicken soup.

One of those Frankly-My-Dear mornings

Of which I get too few. I usually wake up with the weight of the world--or of things I have to do--staring me in the face. Today, who cares? If you wash the dishes or the cat or the clothes, it just encourages them to get dirty again.

The book signing and club meeting yesterday were fascinating, thanks to the Signer who stayed for the meeting, seeing as how her book is Ramey's choice for this month's reading selection. Between the first event and the second, some of us ate a quick lunch in the meeting room. (Sweet Susy made a run to Milo's for burgers.)

Teresa (T.K.) Thorne, in photographs, is a cute elf. In person, she is a truly beautiful woman. Makes you think of the word Levantine. Oriental and exotic. And "nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands" (e.e. cummings). Her book, Noah's Wife, is a winner. In October, she is going to travel over all the country she wrote about in that book. (An aside: She said she started out writing science fiction, and wanting to be an astronaut.)

Regarding Travel: After the meeting, Betty and I talked about the pilgrimage to the Holy Land. She told me all the details, who to call, where-all they're going, etc. A few minutes into the discussion, I remembered that familiar feeling, "God, I wish I were at home!" So I know the trip is not for me.

I wore my "fish dress" on Friday, black wood-block print on beige linen, as a farewell tribute to the Gulf of Mexico. After I wash and iron it, I mean to donate it. I only remember wearing it once before, on the unhappy jaunt to the Amish community in Tennessee, where everyone else (except the Amish) wore jeans or cut-offs--much like yesterday, as far as how everyone was dressed.

Teresa wore ivory silk cropped pants, and Ramey was her fascinating self in a Jean-Mock-dressy top that put other T-shirts to shame. Might call it a Tea Shirt.

That's the fashion report. I notice in the photo at left, which I snapped during the book-signing, T.K. was wearing white long pants. She must have changed before the book club meeting. I remember the ivory silk crops, because she dripped Milo's sauce on them.

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Regarding books, Thursday night I read The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery. It may be my favorite book of 2010. And I may be alone in that choice. Anyone who hasn't spent a lifetime reading everything, especially everything by L. Tolstoy, probably wouldn't appreciate it. I'm sorry I didn't read it before our book club meeting when that was the selection. Thanks, Barbara, for choosing that book, and for lending me your copy. BTW, Barbara didn't attend the events yesterday. Hope she's OK. Barbara is one of the few people in the book club, or in the world, for that matter, older than I am.

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P.S. I love that ocean-scene wall hanging in the library meeting room. Makes you feel like you're on the deck of a ship. I'm reading The Surgeon's Mate, by Patrick O'Brian. "I," as Mable told Ms. Thorne, "am a readah!"

Changes

. . . There's been a change in the weather and a change in the sea--
From now on there'll be a change in me;
My walk will be different, my talk and my name--
Nothing about me is gonna be the same:
I'm going to change my way of living, and if that ain't enough,
I'll even change the way I strut my stuff!
Nobody wants you when you're old and gray--
There'll be some changes made today--
There'll be some changes made!

(Benny Goodman)

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I keep waiting for the remorse to set in, about all or some of the items I've got rid of lately. So far, I'm just glad I don't have to put up with, worry about, or feel guilty over them any more. There were three beautiful granny-square afghans in the basement that Jenny made. Thank goodness, there wasn't any mold or grunge of any kind on them; all they needed was a fresh laundering to look new. I've sold one of them and eBay-listed another, and am keeping the one I like best:

That makes two afghans or throws that I've sold, one listed, and eight more that right now I can think of in the house.

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Pork-and-Bean Pie for lunch.

Recipe:

Dump a can of baked beans in a casserole, add some chopped up roasted weiners and the half a cup of white wine you left in your glass last night. Mix pretty well. Top with a pi made of Stonehenge-like slices of a single frozen pie crust. Bake until you remember to take it out of the oven.

Bake the rest of the pie crust at the same time, then throw it away because it's burnt black. (Optional: Throw the remains of the pie crust away before baking.)

With a big plateful of shredded lettuce, I think this will make a great lunch. No matter what anyone else thinks about how it looks.

Someday I'm going to write a cookbook called "Casual Cooking." Or "Causal Cooking."

Signing them books!

Here Ramey is, signing lots and lots of books. There was a fairly large crowd at the Arts Council yesterday. I haven't found out yet how well it went sales-wise, but for a while there, it looked like she was about to sell out

Attendees I remember: Bonnie, Mable, Joe W., Joan D. and her husband, Sherry, India, Buffy and Reed, Susan, Grady Sue, Debbie, Mondretta and another library employee whose name I don't remember, a bunch of people I didn't know, several whose names I should remember but don't, and me. I was so thrilled to see such a good turnout, and I'm sure Ramey was, too. She read a chapter from Sweet Music On Moonlight Ridge, to generally hilarious responses.

When it was all over, Ramey, Susan, Bonnie, Sherry and I celebrated at a little restaurant in Moody. Such a good day!

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More ideas for my house: The wood parts of the tiny front porch will have to be replaced sometime soon, and it occurs to me that we could emphasize the Arts and Crafts style with a couple of those tapered half-columns on brick bases, holding up the handrails. I've seen a lot of them on stone bases or half-columns, but brick would go better with this house. I personally wouldn't want a portico, as it would cut down the light on the front of the house, but just to replace the posts and rails.

I also saw an idea online that might provide our deck with some shelter from the hot sun--why not build a pergola on the deck? You wouldn't have to tear into the roof or do anything fancy; just throw up some 2 x 4s and add enough of a roof to give some shade for a sitting area. It's something to think about for the future.

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Also yesterday, Bonnie brought some photos that she found in the possessions of her deceased mother, Marie, who was a friend of our family. I had never seen this one of my mother, and thought all my graduation photos were lost.

Glad I slept 12 hours...

...Because this is a big day in several ways. First, I need to pack all the stuff that sold on eBay in the past couple of days, chiefly a sterling silver bowl that somebody gave Sonny when we got married. I don't think it has ever had a bite of food or anything else in it, but it has taken a lot of elbow grease and storage space over the last half-century-plus.

Someone bought the Irish chain quilt top, and welcome to it.

A pair of china mugs that came from the thrift shop, and a gold-flashed glass compote.

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I may wait until tonight to do the packing. This afternoon, I'm going to RAMEY'S BOOK SIGNING AT THE LEEDS ARTS COUNCIL!

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Bonnie, my first Leeds friend, whom I met in 1942 or thereabouts, phoned yesterday and we chatted for a while. She said she has some pictures of my family that were in her deceased mother's estate, and that she'll bring them today when she comes to RAMEY'S BOOK SIGNING. She really said if she's able to come, but I'm being optimistic. I hope she brings her friend Jeannene or somebody with her. Betty W. also said she would be there, when I saw her at the post office the other day.

Doors

Jed and I have been discussing (by phone) all the unforeseen details to close the doors deal. This is the glass we chose for the big full center "light." I wanted this one the first time I saw it at Lowe's, about a month ago. I never even considered any other pattern, because this suits the style of the house so well.
It really isn't all those colors, just clear glass with zinc-colored muntins, or caming, between the individual pieces of glass. Just think, sometime before the summer's over, that, in a dark green frame, will replace this:

The entry will not longer be a dark cave. I won't have to leave the front door standing open all day to be able to see my way through the center of the house.

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I've tried and tried to find or construct a picture of the door as it will be, but no luck. I know that the hardware will be "antiqued" zinc, and the glass will be almost the full length of the door. But the brochures don't show that glass pattern in a full-lite painted door with no side or fan lites. So I'll be pleasantly surprised, how ever it turns out.

The Lazy, Crazy, Scorching Days of Summer

This is a significant anniversary day, so I spent the morning outside to keep from getting the blues.

My two crape myrtles are almost ruby red, though they just look dark pink in the photo.

The hydrangeas have lost their pinks and blues, and are turning green and brown.

I'm going to dry these three big 'uns, if I can find that bag of silica that I know is in the house. I tried drying one by hanging it in the closet, and it just shriveled up to about an inch and turned dark brown.

Someday it'll be a quilt or a throw, or another abandoned project.

Wish I had a beer and some pretzels. Or two beers and no pretzels.

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Little lamb, I'll tell thee;

Little lamb, I'll tell thee;

He is called by thy name,

For He calls Himself a lamb;

He is meek, and He is mild,

He became a little child;

I a child, and thou a Lamb,

We are called by His Name.

Little lamb, God bless thee!

Little lamb, God bless thee!

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(The Lamb, by Wm. Blake)

I think they're back!

I believe the hawks are nesting in a tree in the back yard again. I was on the patio just now, looking at my dead tomato plant, and heard what sounded like a young or hurt bird--that crying or mewing sound. So I walked out under the trees to see if I could locate the sound. I looked up and, on a bare limb almost directly over my head, sat Mama Hawk--I'm sure it was a female, because she was a good bit smaller than the hawks I've seen here in the past. (She also appeared to be dark all over instead of having the brown-flecked cream-colored breast, like the big hawks I've seen before.) She was making little soft sounds, apparently in reply to those mewing sounds. She didn't pay much attention to me, but sat there for about half a minute, then flew to a tree out by the street. Probably waiting for me to go in the house.

The Lowe's guy came about noon and measured the doorways. I spent the morning sealing up and stamping my packages, then took them to the P.O. as I was afraid I would miss the mail truck. At the post office (going in with my second load in my arms), I ran into Betty W. who had started leaving. But of course we had to talk, and I stood in the lobby for the longest with the perspiration dripping out of my hair, my glasses sliding off my nose, etc. I finally just set the big box down and listened. Anyway, it was good to see her--I like Betty. She and Curtis are going to the Holy Land in October, and she was there for the papers to get their passports renewed.

I almost started to ask if I could go to the East with them. I'll bet she'd let me. It would probably be my only opportunity in this life to see that place. Said the Compleat Non-Traveler.

When I got home, the ice cream I had bought at the grocery was mush. (Of course I had gone to the store and P.O. in the wrong order.) It wasn't my favorite kind, anyway.

Saying Goodbye

Yesterday, at a call to or from my sister Ramey, I left off packing eBay stuff, and we went to the thrift shop where I got more stuff to sell--or not to sell, as in the case of Ms. Goose.

I feel a bit guilty, as if I had stolen her from my sister Susan, who saw her first. But hey, Suze had first shot at her and missed. Besides, once I've enjoyed looking at her for a while, and have forgotten how long it took me to clean the object with soap, hot water, Goo Gone and Q-tips, Suze or anyone else can probably have it if they want it.

There was a lot of beautiful china, about two dozen pieces, all in a matching set, that I believe will sell. Everything I bought was marked down 30% to 70%, so I sort of went hog-wild. The photo at the top of the page is this china.

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I think I'll keep this beauteous plate:

So, today I have to finish packing all the stuff I have to ship, things that seemed like treasures for years and years, but now are just taking up space.

A couple of angels straight from (not Heaven but) China.

A Meissen teapot with a chip and crack in the spout, rendering it less than priceless.

A blue-and-white plate which I wish I'd kept.

A Russel Wright bowl which I'm glad to see the last of, because it's shaped somewhat like a bedpan.

And finally, a Limoges gravy boat which never seemed right to me, because you can't take it off the stand.

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Anyway, after the thrift-shop trip, I put on my Looney Tunes shirt and took some salad fixings up to Hawk Hill. Ramey cooked burgers, and she, India and I had a feast. Then Jason brought Reed home. I wish I'd had my camera, so you could see the child how big he's grown! I'm going to nail that camera to the inside of my car one of these days.