Scott McCloskey from Michigan is our host today for the first day of our October Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com. He inspires us to write Questionable Products Poems – the kind with a slant of an ode to something that raises our eyebrows in wonder, disgust, or utter surprise. You can read his full prompt here. Be sure to check out the links, too, at the bottom – for those strange things we all need.
The drive took 8 1/2 hours with only one stop to fill up the gas tank and to get an iced mocha and a Rice Krispy treat as a snackish meal to avoid making a time consuming stop. When I blew through Nashville without any significant delays, this should have been the signal flag that I was in traffic trouble in Chattanooga and Atlanta.
Standstill traffic in each of those two cities set me back by two hours – about an hour each with stop and go brake lights and watching the rear view mirror in case I needed to brace myself for a texting driver not paying attention. I finished my audiobook and talked to family on the phone, catching up from the few days I was away.
The day began like any other, only it wasn’t. A bowl of Raisin Bran with a sliced banana and a cup of coffee, the back-hum of morning news and the coming and going of guests all eating breakfast in a Hampton Inn in Western Kentucky – – and I was among them, looking forward to the big surprise awaiting my daughter at the Western Kentucky Botanical Gardens in the afternoon. No, this day was certainly not like any other I’d ever lived.
On August 20, he’d asked for her hand, and I gave my whole-hearted blessing. He’d been there for her on one of the toughest roads of her life. In those moments that held emotional release as I watched them interact in their early days, I saw something different about this young man and the way he’d interacted with my daughter.
First, the love in his eyes. His mother said the same thing: he’s dated before, but I’ve never seen him look at anyone else with such love. Her observation took the words right out of my mouth. Their love for each other is evident. So real you can see it.
Second, the care. I witnessed her tears as she sat at the table searching for a lost item needing to be found, hearing her sniffles at the sense of hopelessness for only a moment before he got up from his chair, rounded the table, took her in his arms, and comforted her in the gentlest way.
I prayed. Lord, please let us find what we need.
Then, in an obscure envelope in the most unlikely place in the box from the attic, it manifested itself like sunlight rising over a crest.
This journey has been one of prayer, one of power seen in the ordinary moments for this couple. And God winked on them – he knows her tender heart, knew it would take a strong and patient man to win her heart and her trust. And the good Lord sent just the right soul mate.
Third, the lighthearted fun and playful side that keeps them laughing – a quick run and boot-bottom slide down the aisle of the store when no one is looking, teasing each other here and there in all the ways that will get them through life without taking it all too seriously to be enjoyed. He asked her what kind of birthday cake she’d wanted, and she jokingly quipped she’d wanted a cake like Aunt Petunia made in one of the Harry Potter movies.
And he made it for her.
And fourth, the commitment. I saw it before, but I saw it in other ways on my visit here on my fall break- the commitment to family, to God, to each other. This family sits down for cooked meals – – talks about what they want to eat, shops for it, slices carrots and mashes four full heads of cauliflower like mashed potatoes and cooks together. Someone makes shortbread and can talk about the balance of sugars and fats and how that’s the science of baking that he knows so well. Another pulls out a special sauce to marinate the chicken for the grill, while one takes it to the flat top for cooking. There is a throng of family present, and they take turns walking and feeding the rescue dogs that are a part of their family. They all pitch in, then they sit down together and thank God for his many blessings. And one takes the plates when everyone is finished, while his mother thanks him. I believe somewhere in the deepest reaches of my heart that they also thank God for their challenges. The mold issue that forced them to gut their home and rebuild it brought a more spacious kitchen – – one where the table is at the heart, filled with chairs for coming together and talking at the end of the day – a place where conversation keeps them connected like the roots of the strongest trees. It keeps them close.
I knew why I gave my blessing, but it wasn’t until I visited and became part of the fabric of this amazing family that I fully understood what she shared on her Facebook post:
I’m thrilled for these two young adults with their lives ahead of them – ready for the living, with a family who loves them – and them, ready to love their own family when they welcome their son into the fold in January. And I was blessed to be a part of their big moment yesterday. This young man knew her mama’s heart needed to be there to celebrate, and he made it happen, holding tight to the ring he’s had waiting for two months now, buying a new jacket with big enough pockets to hide the ring for just the right moment, just the right place, just the right timing.
Steadfast prayers of so many have brought the most beautiful blessings!
I made the trip Friday night from Georgia to Tennessee, and on Saturday morning from Tennessee to Kentucky. Although it’s a long and tiring trip, especially driving it alone and at night, it has been worth every second for all the joy and excitement! I’m here in Western Kentucky, just a few minutes from Indiana, to celebrate the forthcoming arrival of my new grandson, Silas Haynes Neal. He’s something of a triple miracle ~ his parents overcame their own personal struggles, and then their best choices led them to each other. They found love. They found blessing. They drew two families together to love this little bud on our family tree who will surely have us all wrapped up in his sweetness and charm before long.
Their first dates were picnics and hikes here in Yellow Creek Park, so this is where they chose to be showered with blessing again. I noticed children swinging, playing on the playground, laughing and stealing with delight as I drove into the entrance of this park. What a fitting place – a place holding the history of their own romance and the future of their son’s play. An outdoorsy place that stamps the love of nature and outdoors right into the imprint of his name’s meaning – Silas Haynes Neal (woodland) – and the theme of the nursery – – woodland friends. A place where the grandmothers embraced wearing jeans and woodland colors, keeping the festivities relaxed and simple, focused on others like two Marys in a Martha world. The very things we hope for our grandson.
But we did do a Martha thing or two. The first gift was a knife and cake server set, engraved with his name, to be used from the baby shower to the birthday cakes to the wedding cake and any other cakes throughout his life. There will always be a memory of the grandmothers at celebrations – – grandmothers who, from before his first breath, prayed and hoped for his happy future with much to celebrate, even when we are no longer here to cut the cake.
gift from his grandmas~
a personalized cake knife
engraved with his name
for celebrations
through all of his lifelong years
to know he belongs
a child loved, wanted
here on the family tree
woven into the
personalities,
yarns of who we are, taking
our bloodlines as his
And I hope, truly hope, that his fun side shines through – – that someday, just like his father, he takes the silver elastic band from a gift and puts it on his head and smiles on – because that’s where the joy is found, in being a little silly and not too rigid and serious.
I’ve extended my stay to be able to enjoy more outdoor experiences and beauty of nature with these two today. We’ll visit the Western Kentucky Botanical Gardens and stroll through the pleasant breezes forecast for the day. The leaves are just beginning to change, and the feel of fall is crisp in the air. It’s a perfect day for all the best that life has to offer!
I made the trip late Friday night, leaving work at 4 p.m. and planning to drive to Chattanooga before stopping to sleep. Even though there have been two major hurricanes in the Southeast in the past week or so, I hadn’t predicted the fully booked impact on hotels. There was no room in the inns for me. Not in Chattanooga, not in Manchester, not in the second exit after Manchester. It wasn’t until Murfreesboro that I found the proverbial “one last room,” and I eagerly and exhaustedly took it, continuing the rest of the trip yesterday morning after a restful sleep.
My worst fears flashed when I got to Owensboro to check in for a few days here, only to be told at the first hotel that they were booked. Thankfully, I found a room on the second attempt at a nearby hotel and checked in after a full day of scouting for fruit and vegetable trays, baby game prize gifts, and the perfect woodland-colored jumper and sweater set to show off the little one growing in my daughter’s cute belly.
This baby is a healing miracle for her and for her love. They found each other, despite all odds of their challenging journeys, and two families come together today to help them prepare to become not only a couple, but also a family.
The grandmothers got together to give our Silas a cake knife and slice server engraved with his name: Silas Haynes Neal. This set will be used at his baby shower and at his birthday parties in years to come, with the hopes that he will also use it as he cuts the groom’s cake at his own wedding someday – and we hope that if we are no longer here to be physically present, then there will at least be some small part of us present in spirit on that day as he celebrates.
For today, we are here and we are anticipating his arrival at the end of 2024. We couldn’t be happier!
I’m exhausted. Fall break begins today, and I’m ready for a rest.
I’ll travel to Kentucky for my daughter’s baby shower and spend time with her the first part of the week, perhaps doing some light hiking in her favorite state park and helping them find things for their new home. Then, I’ll come home and attend a book discussion group on Weyward by Emilie Hart and work on my writing deadlines for the book my writing group has coming out in 2025.
Normally, I don’t count minutes at work. I’m not a clock watcher for any other reason than being on time for meetings and deadlines.
Today is different. I’m ready to give my mind a break and enjoy some cooler temperatures in northern Kentucky. I’m ready to see some leaves changing color and feel the breeze nipping enough to make me zip my jacket.
Here’s what happens when dogs go walking in a state park and encounter the feral cats that live in the underground tunneled culvert system along the edges of the roads:
We were out walking the trails in the state park and were on our way back to our campsite when they spotted a cat basking on the side of a ditch. Our dogs were on leashes and are nothing but curious, but I fear for these cats with the wildlife and the dogs not on leashes. We saw several of the cats that people have mentioned seeing in this state park. The cats appear to be well fed and mind their own business, but I worry for them because of extreme weather and extreme people. Ollie wanted to play, but this cat wasn’t having it. I’m a bit worried that if they don’t trap these cats to spay/neuter them, then this park will be covered up in cats within a year’s time.
It seems like the culverts would be the perfect situation for trapping them and getting them fixed. And as much as camping folks seem to love our pets, I would imagine that an appeal for small donations would bring a quick response to pay for the necessary procedures. I do hope that someone is thinking ahead and doing the feral cat math before they take over.
Stone fireplace in the FDRoosevelt State Park Registration Office
crisp feel in the air
decorations, breezes, temps
on the cusp of fall
Even the candles remind us that there is a perfect Autumn Day to be lived.
The candles say it, the decorations declare it, the large stone fireplaces sing out, and it all screams fall. Everywhere I looked, there were signs: wildlife scurrying in a cool-temperature kind of way, people milling about with jackets, and food servers arriving at tables with bowls of soup and chicken pot pie.
There’s nothing like the welcoming in-between seasons of spring and fall for those of us who love the bridges from one phase to the next. The cool-not cold, and the warm-not-hot of the outdoor comforts that allow us to be outdoors in the fresh air, taking in the slight changes that are happening all around ~ these are the best times of all.
The decorations are up in places to welcome the change of seasons. We like to sit outdoors with coffee and muffins and have a breakfast picnic on the mountain overlooking the valley at F D Roosevelt State Park. Just birdsong and the occasional group of motorcyclists out enjoying the day. Chicken Pot Pie on the menu at the Country Kitchen at Callaway Gardens in Pine Mountain, Ga.
I finally got my cycle of mammograms to October, the most popular month to get a mammogram! I took a half day, and at first didn’t make the connection – – I wondered why the lobby was more crowded than I’d ever seen it. Then I remembered: it’s Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Everybody’s here for the squeeze.
But I’m completing the whole triathlon. I’m getting bloodwork, having the mammogram, and having a colonoscopy all in the first two weeks of the last quarter of the year.
When I finished my annual screening with close to 30 pounds of pressure on each side top to bottom and sideways (according to the digital readout), I had the strangest urge to go celebrate with a pancake breakfast. Instead, I thought about my recent bloodwork and the results that my sugar should be considered before making any spontaneous breakfast moves. Once I’d removed the gown and gotten my girls repositioned and safely strapped back into their carseats under my shirt for their travels through the day, the mammographer thanked me for coming, giving me a pink cup to help me carry the message.
This coming week, I’ll take the table for the other end and take a nice nap while the nature walk for polyps commences. I’ll try not to dwell on last year’s trip along Route 66, where we stopped in Missouri at the Uranus Fudge Factory. I’ll think instead on the first time I had a colonoscopy and decorated my @$$. And at all costs, I’ll resist the urge to stop for fudge on the way home. (And for the record, I do not want a brown mug from the Colonoscopy Department to match the pink one from the Mammography Department in the picture above).
To all my friends and readers: get your tests done, and try to find a way to make the dreaded medical visits we put off a sparkly checklist accomplishment.
Common Threads 