All I Ever Loved was Apple Pie and Ada

I've always had an affinity for, rather than fear of, graveyards. Tombstones often tell stories. In the Tidewater area of VA and northern North Carolina, one finds small or even single family cemeteries out in the country. Many of them are all but forgotten.

Each time I visit, I find a new story, even if I have been there many times previously. When I learn a story, I consider not only the family's grief, but the context of the times which they lived in.

Last night Bruce and Deb accompanied me.

We were looking rather ghostly ourselves against the brick walls of Portlock Cemetery.

Here's a story from my new friend Lewis Read, Jr.

I just love this guy at peace next to his beloved Ada. His inscription reads, "All I ever loved was apple pie and Ada." If it weren't so weird, I would leave an apple pie at his grave to remember his two loves.

Here's the sad story of tiny Mary Powers Walters who lived for less than one day.  I know she is safe in Jesus' arms, but her family must have mourned her deeply.  

In a few weeks after her passing, Archduke Franz Ferdinand would be shot, beginning the sad chain of events causing World War I. Soon many mothers would be terribly sad for sons who lived much longer than Mary, but fell in war.  As I read about the departed, I honor each one...in Mary's case, nearly 103 years after her death. 

These gravestones below illustrate the cemetery's age. Many who succumbed to the terrible 19th century Yellow Fever epidemic which wiped away 10% of the local population are buried here.This epidemic is referred to as "the pestilence" in many inscriptions. Yellow Fever Epidemic.  Other graves denote those who served as troops of the Confederate States of America.

Moss and lichen obscure many of inscribed messages  They lean toward each other or the ground, as if exhausted.  Rain, snow, and wind battered them until they now can only be read by tracing the inscription.

The three of us walked and talked, while Lulu explored off leash and the sun slipped toward the horizon.  We are not disrespectful. We clean up after her (not needed usually) and often pick up trash from the grounds. 

On the way out, I saw this tree and figured out a longstanding mystery - the location of Ernie Keebler and all the hard-working elves who bake Keebler's cookies.

This is the basement entrance. Another knot-hole at the top probably leads to Keebler Company headquarters.

What Do You Stand For?

Just in case you're having trouble seeing this pic I took (in amazement and dismay) of a North Carolina store front, this says, "Modern Witchcraft Classes: the art, science, and psychology of nature-based spirituality."  Yes, indeedy.

Please note the young man walking a small dog in the reflection.

Well, my psychology of nature-based spirituality is that I get really mad when birds poo on my laundry hanging on the line. Just sayin...

Other than that, my nature-based spirituality centers around God's glorious creation. I marvel at the intelligent Creator clearly evident in all of nature, from DNA on the cellular level to the great crashing waves of the Atlantic.

Now I am all about discussion.  I love to hear about how others encounter and experience a loving God. I support freedom of expression. But I felt so shamed about Christians when I saw this notice.

We Christians are supposed to be known by our love.  That includes love for God, love for each other, and love for others in the world. How sad to think of a searching and vulnerable university student, perhaps away from a home with values or maybe from a home with no values at all. He or she wanders into this location and then what?  I felt sick when I saw this.

So I am praying for everyone involved with this store, from those who work or own it to those who just wander in.  I didn't feel that walking inside and having a confrontation was a great idea, but prayer never alienates anyone. 

From the outside, I noticed that the shop had many occultist books, CD's, oils, crystals, etc. for sale.   In contrast, one can go to my church and have breakfast for free. My pastor and his associate would gladly give a Bible to anyone who needed one. We feed and shelter our homeless neighbors.  I feel sure that there are similar churches in this NC town several hour's drive away. My sincere hope is that a discerning public can see the difference.

So, back to my question, "What Do You Stand For?"  This question was mentioned during a recent phone convo with a dear relative who was frustrated with one of the kids. However, it also spoke to my spirit.  Who DO I stand for?'

When I don't want to deal with an annoying member of the public, what message am I sending about Who I Stand for.  When I don't practice excellence, what does that say about The One who rules my world? What does my behavior preach louder than my words?  

I want my behavior to say Jesus, Jesus, Jesus...24/7 and even when my dear husband forgets what I told him the day before.  Out of the fullness of the heart, the mouth speaks.  I want the mouth to proclaim, "Jesus is Victor," not "Anne is annoyed." (or sick or uncomfortable or tired or hungry or doesn't like her outfit or is running late...(Feel free to insert whatever concern is standing in between Jesus, me, and the world.)

Gratuitous Pygmy Hedgehog Pics

My sister's hedgehog.  What? Your sister doesn't have a hedgehog? I'm shocked.  That little hedgehog ear is killing me!

Those little paws are adorable.  He is in my sister's purse in a green blanket.  I think they were in Walmart, which I cropped out because Walmart isn't cool. I'm guessing they were picking up hedgehog food or little hedgehog outfits.  Maybe a hedgehog toothbrush...could be anything.

Now that you've seen the hedgehog, it should come as no surprise that my sister once had an excused absence note from my mother which read, "Please excuse Kerry's absence yesterday from school. She was bitten by a camel."  

The odd thing was, it was true and Kerry hadn't been to a zoo!

Wordless Wednesdays...Savannah, Chincoteague, and New York City Horses

Chopsticks Have Nothing Profound to Say

An unexpected witticism always charms me. I wonder who thought to print this on disposable chopsticks because he or she must be rather special.

Noodle shops have been all the rage in New York City for over ten years.  Recently, these restaurants have been popping up here in Tidewater, Virginia. We headed across the River to Norfolk last night to Noodles and Company.

Fresh and flavorful with a surprising heat that snuck (yes, I know that isn't grammatically correct) up on me. 

After dinner we walked to Farm Fresh for some groceries.  Along the way, we passed my favorite, "Little Dog Diner."  Years ago, this was the Donut Dinette.  It was open only for breakfast and lunch.

In the evenings, we would see an employee through the windows of the closed diner, making donuts for the next morning.  A dear little white dog with a patch of black over one eye sat watching his master.  He would sit on a chrome and red leatherette seat at the lunch counter.

I wonder if that employee ended up purchasing the Dinette, re-naming it The Little Dog Cafe.  The building has been on that Colley Avenue corner since before WW II.

We walked on in last night's relative warmth to pick up a few things; cream cheese, cilantro, Brussels sprouts, green seedless grapes, and bananas, if you must know.

Farm Fresh always has beautiful flowers and last night was no exception.

 And these...

I love to photograph them and then go home to make an arrangement from my yard.  This time of year I use budding trees. Afterwards, I congratulate myself on saving $10.

As Robert Herrick said, 

GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,	5
The higher he 's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he 's to setting. (It isn't poetic to gather tree branches.)

Who Can Take a Nothing Day?

...And suddenly make it all seem worthwhile.  

My husband, that's who!

Bruce concluded his work early the other day.  My work hours are flexible, so I was able to join him for a late lunch.

You know how you drive around town on an errand and notice a cozy little restaurant and say to each other, "We should try that some time, it's cute."  Well here's the place that we've been saying that about for over two years. Corner Cafe

Inside, there are tables and chairs and a small lunch counter.  The walls are painted bright red with white and black trim.

While we waited for our hot dogs and slaw, I noticed a young black man at a table near the door.  With a shaved head and a beard, I think some folks might have felt intimidated by his looks. 

Two little old white ladies with curly perms were struggling to open the door.  They were commenting to each other all "bless your hearts" and "I declares."  They reminded me of dandelions gone to seed with bobbing grey/white tops.  

The wind was buffeting both of them.  The young black man jumped up and assisted them in and to a table.  I sipped Luzianne iced tea and noticed that all the diners were nearly equally divided in race. We were all sociable and talking across the tables. 

Whatever we may see about racial tension on the news, most of America is more like the crowd at the Corner Cafe. Isn't the bottom line about all this kindness and the Golden Rule?

What a swell place the Corner Cafe is and how we enjoyed our chili dogs!  We didn't indulge in dessert, but goodness, what wonderful old-fashioned cakes and goodies were on the menu.  As I looked at this picture, I thought that it could be 1950 or even 1940, rather than 2017.

Those are mandarin oranges on top of the orange cake and glace cherries on the top of the coconut confection to the right.  

The sky was dark when we went in for lunch, but had brightened to blue by the time we got to the library.  At the Corner Cafe, it definitely looked like winter.

An hour later, we were at the library across town.  Magically, it was spring.  Bees buzzed audibly, the trees were lacy with white flowers, and the daffodils bloomed.  I've heard of "micro climates" before, but this was quite amazing.

Spring Bouquet Early and Mourning Doves

We have been blessed with amazing spring-like weather here in Virginia for nearly a week.  I thank God for every lovely minute of it; for the beauty and for the reduced heating cost.

As I mentioned in my last post, some of our trees are blooming and the crocus in my front yard are pushing up.Two mourning doves are contemplating nest building in the corner of my front porch. I wonder what might happen with these early-blooming trees if the weather grows colder.

Mayura, my next-door neighbor, told me that the doves had been billing and cooing and loving on each other over the weekend.  We don't mind the nesting, but just enter and leave the house a little bit more quietly.  

Our doves are darling, unlike the Canadian geese in the back lot at work which chase state troopers who get too close to their nests. This is a bit funny to watch, but those geese can get ugly!

We love flowers in our house.  Camellias bloom in the yard even in the coldest winters.  My house is a hundred years old, so the camellia bushes planted years and years ago are now actually camellia trees over 12 feet high.

I gathered some pale pink camellias from the side yard. The flowers in the back of the bouquet came from a nearby tree on city property. The vase is a thrift-store find. Looking at it as the sun streamed in early this morning, I thought the bouquet looked a bit oriental.

My sweet friend Nancy who lives in the painted-lady Victorian on Scotts Creek keeps chickens. She's just a block away and what a treasure she is.  What with the warmth and all, her hens have been quite productive. She dropped off a dozen eggs; free and delivered at no additional charge last night!  (I think her fridge was full of eggs.)  

My Bruce is less enthralled having grown up on a farm, but City Girl here is amazed to be able to figure out which chickens hatched the eggs.  Amy is the one who lays the pale blue green ones.  The other girls lay larger ones ranging from pale tan to a frank brown.

Our church provides free bread from a parishioner who works for a very well known (and expensive) chain restaurant famous for having all-natural, "real" food.  The bread would be thrown out otherwise.  Throwing out bread and restaurant waste when there are hungry people around makes me frustrated.  I hope other branches of the store are making such creative arrangements to avoid food waste.  Many New York City restaurants donate leftover food to homeless shelters. 

Early this morning I cooked up French toast using the free eggs and bread.  Talk about cheap!  Bruce is a bit fuzzy in the mornings, but all he will have to do is nuke it and "crack open" a banana.  Even he can manage that while still half asleep!

I hope that you are also enjoying a lovely spring/winter day!

Invincible Summer

Albert Camus said, "In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer."

He went on to say "And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back."  And let me note right here that I agree with absolutely nothing else that he ever said or did!

My personal something stronger and better is God, pushing right against the cares of the world.  

This tree also has some invincible summer in its DNA. Somehow, when every other tree that I see has bare wintry arms reaching toward the sun, this cotton-candy charmer is blooming in splendor. Two weeks after a major snow storm. As I drove past, I did a u-turn and took a photograph.

This type of tree is planted all around Portsmouth; the white version down the median along London Boulevard and planted in numerous other yards in homes all around here. There will be another pink early bloomer in a bed and breakfast's yard; but not yet.  

Their glorious spring season reminds me of Jordan almonds or fluffy 1950's strapless prom dresses on giggling girls with "Dippity-Do" hairstyles and short white gloves.

Why is it that one tree above all others shows her splendor early on?   How do some people survive untold abuse as young people and thrive as adults while others hurt their fellow man?  Why do some folks bounce back from hard times better than before, but others turn bitter?

I don't know all the answers, but I do know that the ability to reach higher, to reach toward the sky and toward God makes the difference.  For this is a transitory world, rife with chaos especially now.  

The blossoms come and go, the leaves take their places, and then fall as well, leaving skeleton arms reaching to the sky.  Only God is eternal and ever present.