The Hot Weather Chronicles

This time last summer I was in the thick of inner turmoil. There was no eating nutritious meals or enjoying the twinkly twilight time before the sun goes down, oh no. I was too squeamish to participate in life. A few times recently the anxiety monster that lives in my brain has said, "This weather reminds me, aren't we supposed to be panicked? Yes, yes I think so. It was dinnertime wasn't it, when we'd take on a sense of impending doom?" 

And I've had to do my best to ignore the monster's calls. It's going well, thank you, but disadvantageous at times. Instead, I've been enjoying the hot weather season - an attempt to make up for last year. I've been in the creek, in the garden, in the pool, in my new oversized office chair, and frequently in bed during the heat of the day taking a nap to power-up for a wild evening of watching tv when it's still a little blue outside. That feels wrong, doesn't it? My favorite is a post-dinner walk around the neighborhood. Something about it feels very adulty. 

Since last summer's withering of body and spirit, I've put on weight in new, inconvenient locations. What was once hard is now soft and what was soft has fallen down. I don't understand what happened and why it happened so suddenly. Is this yet another level of degeneration for the mentally insane? Just when your mind gets better your body tags itself in? Or, worse, perimenopause. I often smell cigarette smoke, have itchy ears, and create night sweats that could irrigate a small lawn, and I feel like if I don't tell people about it I'll have to endure the demise of my only body on my own, and that thought genuinely frightens me. So now I abide by "if you see something, say something" and Brett is almost done feigning sympathy. 

Now, the office chair. I'm thrilled about it. It is extra wide and slightly more deep so that one may sit in it in a variety of unsupported ways; upon one's ankles, Indian style, or in an upright cannonball position. I have long lamented the standardized human chair because who finds it comfortable to sit with their legs at 90˚ and their feet flat on the floor? Sincerely? I can hold that pose for five minutes before my feet long to be elevated. I almost purchased what's called "a cross-legged meditation chair" but I felt mild embarrassment about how stupid they look. I then considered a kneeling chair, thought better of the age of my knees and settled on what is effectively an office chair you would find in the Big and Tall section at store for pre-teens. It's pale blue and fuzzy. Brett tried it out for a while and got jealous, so I'm definitely onto something. 

As for my birthday, we did burgers on the grill and then bobbed in the creek:

And later had a family dinner at one of my favorite spots. Lee's dinner came with a side of fries that were so good we ordered some for the table, and Mom even found one of the chefs and told him how great those fries were. Interestingly I'm sure, my favorite french fries in all the town are located at a restaurant across the street from this one, so now I feel torn and delighted. When I need fries, I'll know exactly where go. We will park the car, make our way up the road, and only then, when we stand directly between the two restaurants, will I choose chunky sweet potato to the right or herby regular to the left. The spontaneity. The anticipation! Which one will she choose?

In cat news, Nora has decided to revoke the curtesy she was extending towards the disabled cat in our home. She is now being rude to both me and Cam, though she happily tolerates Brett. Ferguson is over all of it and just wants snacks and cuddles. Cam is usually drunk and just wants someone to play with.

Oh! Also, he escaped on the fourth of July and spent the night out setting off fireworks and vandalizing personal property. I worried the celebratory bombing would scare him too far away and he would get lost and then eaten by a predator who spotted his jimmy-legs from miles away, but he was in the driveway in the morning, just happy to be alive.

My garden meanwhile, is nearing its most productive state as well as what looks like the beginning of the end. There are lots of colors and tiny edibles in there but there are also some yellowing leaves, droopy stems, and an occasional self-implosion. The heirloom tomato and the bell pepper plant, who sat across the aisle from each other, participated in an early morning shinju last month and now their little empty plots remind me that I wasn't good enough for them. The tomato plants however, are as tall as Brett and just as busy.

Currently growing in the yard:

Tomatoes

Eggplants

Cucamelons

Bramble berry

Scuppernongs

Figs

Persimmons

Basil

Parsley

Dill

And a single pomegranate on a tree planted too far into the shade. We're really rooting for it. 

And then there was the fourth of July. There was a Guy/Union family gathering with the usual summer fare. The centerpiece was Dad's "yard art" to celebrate America. Later he added some American flags.

 

A mere 48 hours later, Brett and I were over at Jeff's house celebrating Julian's 10th birthday. How did that happen? He was just five!
Highlights include a wonderful taco dinner, all four boys sporting their new cuban-linked chains, and a water stain that has developed on the ceiling over the dining room table that is remarkably phallic. When I noticed it and pointed all four boys (and their mother) burst out laughing. I got tickled at the idea of an important gathering taking place there while that is just up there on the ceiling. What if their pastor came over? 

The Big Italian Wedding

The long-awaited destination wedding of Uncle Tootie and Aunt Hea-Hea finally arrived, and all the friends and family members (and about half of Folly Beach's food and beverage staff) packed their bags and made their way to Sorrento. Aunt Georgia and I (and Brett) stayed home on pet and plant patrol, so the details I have about the trek have been gathered from brief text messages and occasional Facetime calls from Ellen. The consensus from the Union family is that it is the nicest wedding they've ever been to. Everyone looked and did great. I hear there were a couple days of partying on either side of the wedding day. Jordan, Margie, Uncle Dave, and Lee stayed up until the wee hours of each morning, huddled around a tiny table on the patio, surrounded by bougainvillea and lemon trees. The house they stayed in had an exciting garden. I believe this is my precious foursome standing in it - note Mom's purse that seems to have been hurled into the yard in an effort to keep it out of the photo.

The following are the beautiful photos I seemingly received in real time. Dad's photo updates in particular made me feel like I was included in all the fun. I was at Ellie's house packing her Etsy orders as the photos came in and I kept running from my duties to show her my precious family. I was just SO excited for everyone. 

I never got a clear photo of Alston and Halee but those will be coming.

Meanwhile on James Island, I kept myself busy creating my first in-ground garden. I went to Alston's everyday to feed his cats, Carolyn's every couple days to water plants, Ellen's house to let in the cleaners, and Mom and Dad's house to move some cars around. Those jobs mixed with my Etsy packing efforts kept me entirely busy the whole time my family was gone. I barely had time to lament their absence. 

Marcia kept Nick and Liv for the week and then brought them back into town in time for Livvy's Kindergarten graduation, and then I took over the babysitting until Ellen and Lee came home that night. I had to entertain them for just six hours - a mere moment of their lifetimes - but I felt every minute of that six hours because I am not accustomed to the lacking mental stimulation of such undertakings. I love those kids - would take a bullet for them - but gracious watching them for an afternoon is dull. You're really trapped and cooped because leaving the house is too much trouble. So there you sit, in a slightly damp spot on the sofa, while both of them talk at you at the same time. Nick threw a tiny tantrum each time I wouldn't let him eat candy, and I couldn't get either of them to eat a real dinner. Neither of them wanted to wear anything except their underwear and Nick understandably became frustrated when he lacked the dexterity and brain-power of Liv, so then there would be more crying. I'd thought ahead and brought some really big cardboard with me and that did a great job keeping them busy for a while. 

What I did enjoy about the experience was watching Liv manipulate Nick. She is entirely in charge and when things don't go her way because of Nick, she comes up with clever but cruel ways to make him do right. "Well Nick, if you're not going to do it, I might have to take away that toy I gave you last week." Even when they played out make-believe scenarios, it was really just Liv telling Nick what to do. "You're a dog, so you barked when you saw the bad guys... bark Nick." and then Nick would bark. "But you miss your Mommy so you started to cry... you have to cry Nikki." So he would play cry. 
"Why are you walking? You're a dog, they crawl."
I think we all can see how this relationship will work until the end of time.

Other tidbits: Bubbs and I have moved into our favorite season - porch season. We have a magical, nearly year-round breeze in our yard, so we just about live on the porch all summer long. It's my all-time-favorite thing. 

Cameron, the surviving kitten from the Cameron and Barkley pair, has taken to butt-scratches and suddenly understands the benefits of the house-cat life. He has recently begun stepping inside to inspect things for an hour or so before darting back out into known safety. He loves to dine in the threshold between outside and in, and will alert you to desires for pet and scratches. Brett tells me we can't have a third cat but I frequently catch him trying to lure Cameron into the house. Mostly Cam hangs out on the porch or watches me flounder around in the new garden. He's a chatty little guy - makes both of us laugh.

Another Two Month Roundup

I haven't told you what we've been up to since February. That's the worthless power of a bi-monthly update. There I am, wondering aloud what we'll do with our lives and then I'll ramble on about Japan and house projects and meanwhile two full months will pass. I'm still stalling now as I type this... because mostly we still don't know. 

So! Scenes from the last two months:

Papa; dutifully fixing toys since '89.

My chicken group has set our sights on Food Lion. This weekend we have our third parking-lot protest. I'll go ahead and tell you that Food Lion staff have been lovely, as have the local police who come read us our rights. I hope corporate will cave soon, but this has been a delightful campaign.

Since his return from east Asia, the Big One has officially stopped working for the old firm, bought the required computer and softwares to do structural engineering from his guest-room office, made spreadsheets about finances, and somehow managed to be just as busy as he was when legally employed. I thought his temporary "retirement" would result in lazy mornings, whimsical afternoons, and periods of stagnant boredom, but I was wrong. I think I've just now learned that Brett Eisenhauer doesn't really relax. He takes breaks of course. He often leaps around the living room to incite the pups, slaps me around, goes surfing, and reads books in the hammock, but he doesn't wake up wondering how he'll fill a day with luxury and leisure. He finds things to fix, study, or improve. 

I'm slightly disappointed. 

I did not get the job I interviewed for while he was out (what a relief!) and suggested that the universe simply prefers me to be unemployed. What with all I do for the chickens...

It's actually that I want to do volunteer work professionally. I have too many good things I'm working on. It's a shame I don't get paid to do it, because it thrills me and there are so many different pots on that stove that things are always different and exciting. I've loosely decided to try to build a local coalition of sorts. It's still in the beginning stages but I've got a partner in this endeavor and she's much smarter than I am. She and I did go spend Earth Day at the College of Charleston - talking to kids about food systems and what not. I loved it a surprising amount (and now secretly want to work on campus with all the neat kids I met. Think they'd hire me to just encourage their good thoughts?) The kids I spoke to were so much more knowledgeable about things than I was at their age, and they're plugged into efforts and initiatives that you couldn't have paid me to participate in back then. I found it all encouraging and enlivening. 

Big Mama found a last minute deal for a beach house at Edisto, so the family loaded up and headed out. We had a near full-house with Ellen and Lee's squirts accompanied by Owen and Ethan, but that brand of chaotic goodness was short lived as the little ones still had to go to school. We snacked, napped, lounged in the sun, and played one full round of Shanghai. A cast of characters came in and out throughout the week but the home had one full-time resident, Big Mama U, who appreciated every second of being on Edisto. 

Ellen has moved into a new position at her workplace - something she's been waiting months for - and Lee Lee has officially earned his captain's license. Cap'n Lee it is! 

Olivia has taken an interest in outer space while Nick works on not wetting his pants. He's been doing a good job, but the excitement of an egg hunt proved to be too much this Easter, and he arrived back to the adults with a full basket, a big smile, and a sizable stain on his pants. I thought it was most amusing and when Ellen asked him about it, he ran to the end of the yard and hung his head in shame. 

Ah the next generation. 

Finally, in pet news; Pippa has developed a new mystery ailment and Grace has found a way to escape the backyard. Both of these inadvertently take a good hour out of affected days. Ferguson arrived home with a large puncture wound in his back (he's not bothered), Nora has taken to challenging Pippa for prime sofa real-estate, and one of my feral cats has had two kittens. One is orange and one is black and they are both so tiny and cute. They are afraid of me, so no pictures yet.

Brett told me I can't feed them. 

I understand.

New blooms in my wildflower patch!

Longing to escape for good.

Springtime Giddiness

We made it. It's warm out. That felt like an especially long winter - but I reckon it's because winter doesn't foster lots of hopeful dreaming, and a lack of that sort of thing just leaves you wallowing around with  your stuffy nose and dry, scaly skin.

There was that limbo moment when the sun was hot but the outside temperature was still chilly. That was about a two week period, so both dogs, both cats, and I set up shop in the bedroom where the sun comes into the window and heats up the floor to a most excellent temperature. All the pets tolerated lazing in such close proximity to each other presumably because we all understood the yearning for a comfortable outside temperature and the universal luxury of sunbathing.

Now that it's warm out, all the people and animals are coming out from our hovels with our disheveled fur and pasty complexions, and the world feels full and busy again. It's fun being in an actual neighborhood because you get to track and monitor the activities of your neighbors. All the Spring, Summer and Fall joggers are definitely not Winter joggers - so months pass without seeing them. It's nice to see that they've survived for another go round. Friends start leaving for long weekend adventures, the flowers bloom, lawn care reignites, traffic builds, restaurants fill up... what a busy little anthill we live in. 

Brett and I are no exception and we've been outside as much as possible; visiting all the parks, public docks, and outdoor cafes with friends.

That reminds me. This is Ned Cricket. He has a broken foot and an ornery disposition. He's my latest rescue mission but he won't let me too close. I'll keep you posted.

I found a bunch of old seed packets in a storage bin while I was cleaning so I somewhat haphazardly sprinkled them into some dirt and now we have more seedlings than we know what to do with. This is photo is about 25% of them. I didn't think they would even sprout. Surely they won't all survive right? That will be too many tomatoes. Either way, the thrill I've been getting watching these grow might be unreasonable. 

A blog post of substance will be coming soon. I've overbooked myself for the month of April and am floundering around juggling things. I hate when I do this to myself. It usually only happens once or twice each year but it comes on so fast you can't stop in. 

In the meantime - Liv and Dad at Easter lunch. 

A Springtime Update

It's been so wonderful to slowly reintroduce "seeing friends" to the activity roster. As an introverted homebody, I didn't expect to find so much excitement in social outings. See what a global pandemic can do for your outlook? Brett and I have been hanging out with our non-related people again and it's so refreshing. Even my folks got in on the action, inviting The Crew over for Sunday Dinner and a handful of rowdy rounds of Pig.  

Here's a picture of Mom blending into the couch.

Just before I caught the Covid, I'd gotten The Spite Garden set up for hopeful success. I moved it over near the garage in an effort for it to gather an extra hour of sun each day. I love our shady backyard, but the veggies don't. This year I've planted a couple varieties of tomatoes, onion, cucumber, cantaloupe, peppers, basil, cilantro, and mint. I had plans to plant even more but then I got sick and couldn't wield a shovel. In the nick of time, I also planted six hydrangea bushes, four clematis plants, some hosta, some spider plants, AND finally (after 5 years) found a place for the succulents that they haven't turned on yet. That was all a month ago and being sickly made me loose my momentum. I've decided I'm done planting things for now - tending to it all has kept me busy enough. 

Here's a picture of the backs of our heads at Hayden and Jenny's wedding. I have no real cause for posting it here but I think our collective hair looks great.

This past weekend, Brett and I stole Papa Clint's boat from our own yard and took the pups on an afternoon cruise. Gracie Girl knows the ways of boat life but Pip has never cruised the open waters before. She was all spastic and slippery and then caught a case of on-board zoomies that resulted in a couple of pup-overboard rescue missions. 

They sacked out when we got home.

Here's a picture of Olivia with her little chucky ankles crossed like a sassy golf cart princess.

About that whole "I wrote a book" thing; I sent it off to a friend to read and I brushed my hands cleans of it. I decided to put it down for awhile - get some distance from it as they say - so I could see it with fresh eyes later. I have the whole thing memorized like a trendy pop song that isn't even that great. When you know the next sentence and it's grammatical notions, you don't really even read the story anymore. You just glaze your eyes over it the way you look at your own face in the mirror each day. You knows what's there, no need to study it. Finally my friend sent back her notes and I read my stories again for the first time. Never mind my friend's helpful suggestions, I hate the stories. I read them with fresh eyes and became humiliated that I claimed a writers status and that I sent it to an intellectual friend to read. I'm horrified that I nearly email queries to professional readers. It's awful. 

So I take it back. I haven't written a book. But don't worry yet. I've got some plans.