Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Last Thursday, I spent two days with Wingate at my mountain house.
Why is that?
I took Tallulah with us so that we would have some entertainment other than ourselves. Tallulah had no trouble being the center of attention as she fetched thrown paper wads and slam dunked them through the hole in the table on the screened porch---the hole where the umbrella goes -- if I had bought the umbrella-- but I don't need the umbrella -- it's a screened porch -- never mind. Tallulah was a regular Lebron James.
We threw the paper wads, and she returned them to us like a golden retriever... and she returned them by putting them through the hole. Was quite funny -- she carries the paper in her mouth like it's a chipmunk she found in the yard.
Other times, Tallulah was bad. She had to be pried from the window screens like she was some kind of sucker fish. She would jump on the screen, four legs spread, and then look coyly over her shoulder at me like she had just performed the perfect stunt.
BTW: As of yesterday, Tallulah is in heat. She's purring like an incinerator and making cat calls that start with a trill and turn into a howl.
It's pretty funny, but it must be all kinds of uncomfortable to have your uterus ache and feel the need to rub up against the corners of magazines.
I googled "Cat in Heat" on the Internet.
Got some good information.
Cat in Heat sounds a little like Dr. Seuss. Imagine The Fish comments in that story. :)
Oh yeah, I was talking about Wingate and me in the mountains. We sat on the porch and talked books, former students, public education, apples, the end of the world, tractors, Blake Tipton, philosophy, Hemingway, Dara Satterfield, God, essay writing, dogs, death, Lagrange College, how youth is wasted on the young, good chicken recipes, character education, fruit smoothies, the Eagles, prostitution, old boyfriends, "Leave it to Beaver," carousels, music, aches and pains, the New Yorker, pine trees, the magnet program, Pakistan, our own parents, the Depression, power windows, the book of John, Dorothea Lange, history, asphalt, AP tests, how much fun we had team teaching, the Chinese, peanut M&Ms, Fox News, sunsets, Key West, Jeff Bettis, candle scents, the inanity of lesson plans, crepe myrtles, and how much we loved retirement. [I'm sure I left out something...]
You know how you know you are retired?
You don't know what day it is.
I called David on Thursday convinced that it was Friday, and I accused him of changing his schedule to go in later because I was out of town.
Me: So, I thought you were gonna call me on your way to work.
David: It's not time to go to work.
Me: I thought you had to be at work at 9 on Friday.
David: It's Thursday.
Wingate and I went to Highlands, NC, to shop. The drive up was like driving through soup. It was foggy, rainy, and scary to drive. We wove around the curves and couldn't see anything, and the defroster in the Volvo was working like it was made by Mattel. I had to put on the air to keep the windshield clear.
It poured down rain, but it didn't keep Wingate and me from shopping. We parked, upped the cheap umbrellas that didn't work half the time, and made our way to Dutchman Designs, our favorite shopping hole. We walked through puddles and allowed rain to drip down our backs, all in the pursuit of a bargain.
When we got back to my house in the mountains, we put in for the night with some good music... and at one point, we were singin' "Son of a Preacher Man" and talking 'bout the 70s. We love to reminisce...
On Saturday, we drove the long way home in order to have lunch with Dr. Parrott. The drive was gorgeous even with it being a partly cloudy day.
The oranges, reds, and vibrant yellows dotted the mountains on 76, and when we crossed Lake Burton and saw the contrast with the water -- we saw God's hand. As Wingate likes to say, "It was magnificent."
I love it when Wingate says "magnificent."
Coming out of Clayton, Ga, we headed over the mountains to Hiawassee and 515 which would take us to Ellijay to have lunch with Dr. Parrott.
On a whim and a phone call, we stopped off at Young Harris College to see my nephew, and we ran into a former student on campus. The student was shocked to see us as we were to see him -- it was like seeing the preacher in the wine aisle at Kroger -- you knew him, but you didn't expect to see him.
Tomorrow, I will blog about Deli Junction, Dr. Parrott, chocolate pie, and "ring that bell if you liked the service."
Hard to get kicked out of a deli, you know.