PRAYING OVER THE GRAVE OF THE DEAD CAT

Last July, my cat, Chloe, died. She is buried in the back yard where her grave is marked by two rocks. Leah and Olivia still talk about Chloe and ask if she is coming back alive. The girls have taken to praying and their most ferverent prayer is for Chloe to come back. So far, their prayers have not been answered. They are so sincere that I wouldn't be a bit surprised to see Chloe walking up to the door at any moment.

RAINBOW

A storm blew up behind us on our way to Owensboro. The sun kept shining and we looked for the rainbow. Leah was the first to find it.

LEAH

LOOK, BUBBE, I'M A PIG.

The rain and the car turned part of our yard into a mud puddle. Leah found it today and it was such a joy to her. I grabbed my camera. She saw me and said, "Look, Bubbe, I'm a pig." She had the best time stomping in the mud. I let her play and then hosed her down to get the mud off. She liked the cleaning part too. Mud is more fun than the best toy.

LINGERING

My mother lingers on the porch as I leave her house. She has followed me from the kitchen through the house, out the front door onto the porch, all the time talking to me. She has probably cooked my supper or I'm bringing back her dishes. I may have brought her mail or just there to check on her. More than likely, I have letters to mail for her and food to take to the neighbor's house.
She tells me little bits of news, shows me a picture or book, asks me if I want to take them home with me. Uusally the answer is yes. I might ask her for something in the house, she gives it to me and I load it in the car.
On the porch she is still talking. I'm making my way to the car. Just as I step off the rock at the end of the porch she thinks of one more thing to tell me. I turn and we talk more. As I'm putting things in the car she tells me something else. I go and turn the car around. She has walked to the end of the porch and is flagging me down. I roll down the window and she reminds me of something or asks me a question. I look in the rear view mirror and see her standing on the porch watching me leave. Lingering.

Porch Mending

Nancy Ruth

MENDING

Today on my way to get a bunny (but that's another story) I passed by Nancy Ruth's house and saw her sitting on the porch mending a cushion for her lounge chair. I stopped to make her picture. She is 95 years old. She is full of stories and the only person I know who actually saw Theodosia. Nancy Ruth was a young child when Theodosia died but she remembers going to her house. She called her Aunt Dosia.
The mending scene on the porch stopped me in my tracks. At first she didn't see me so I was able to watch her briefly. She was bent over her mending, intent on her work. I made one picture before she looked up and then another one of her face. I can't decide which one I like the best.
We talked for a bit, she said she could hardly see to sew anymore but she was trying to patch the cushion and sometimes mended other things. She used to sew a lot, she said. But not so much anymore.

TABLECLOTH

In response to Mel's (http://www.unretouchedphoto.com/) question about using a tablecloth every day, my answer is no. But my mother always uses a tablecloth and has for as long as I can remember. She has a long dining room table which stretches almost the length of the dining room when all the leaves are in place. Her tablecloths vary in length and color. She probably still has every one she ever owned. I hope so anyway.
When I was a little girl we had company all the time. My mother knew how to set a table and load it with food, mostly grown in her garden. We never knew who might show up to eat. She always used a tablecloth, often changing it between meals, depending on how many were there to eat and how long they decided to stay. It wasn't unusual for a number of people to spend the night. My father would get tired and tell us we were all crazy and he would go to my grandmother's house and go to bed. Her door was never locked and sometimes she wouldn't even know he was there sleeping.
My mother is 88 and she still uses a tablecloth for every occasion. I actually have two tablecloths which I use if I can find the dining room table. It rises up out of the ruins at Christmas, dons it's tablecloth, and feeds us. Then it disappears, with the tablecloth, for another year.

TOMATOES

My tomato plants are actually growing even though they are planted in grass clippings. The pepper plant was mostly eaten by a rabbit or something but it is still alive. Tonight I planted an okra plant. I don't like okra and have no idea how to cook it but the plant looked so pitiful sitting there on the shelf at walmart.
I untangled the water hose and dragged it down the hill to the tomatoes, knocking over a pot of petunias, viciously attacking a rose bush, and messing up the rocks around the flower bed behind the house. The spot where the tomatoes are planted is a sink hole or maybe an old well. The grass clippings are from mowing and shooting the clippings into the hole. This is my garden.
I soaked all the plants, even the okra, pulled the grass clippings around them, adjusted the cages around the tomatoes and turned around to pull the hose back up the hill.
It was that time of day just before the sun sets, the gloaming. I looked up at the house. A few windows were lit, the rest dark. The light in the windows was soft and warm. The house was soft around the light, quiet. My life in this house passed before my eyes. I remembered everything all at once. All the nights I have spent here, mostly awake. All the books I have read. Laughing, crying, sad, happy. Food I have cooked, food I have eaten in the middle of the night. Worrying, pacing. Babies, wonderful babies. Cats, lots of cats. Waiting. Hurrying. Not dusting.
Home.

JOE CASTLEN

I saw Joe Castlen today.
I first met him almost 40 years ago. He hired me for my first Special Education job. He and his wife, Elizabeth, immediately became two of my favorite people in the world. They remain so even now.
That first year of teaching was an experience. Our classroom was in the basement of the Beaver Dam Baptist Church. The school board declined to let us use a classroom. They did agree to let the children ride the bus to the high school. An uncle of one of my students volunteered to drive us the rest of the way to the church and pick us up in the afternoon. The school board allowed him to use his bus for this.
During that year Mr. Castlen was a constant support. He and Mrs. Castlen have a son with Down's Syndrome. After returning to school to complete my degree, I did my student teaching in Mrs. Castlen's classroom. She taught me many things about talking to parents and the things she told me helped me my entire teaching career.
I kept in touch with them, sent them cards, called them. They did the same. They came to visit us on occasion. After their trip to the Middle East they came to our house to eat and talk about Israel and Egypt. I was so happy to be in their company.
Mrs. Castlen died a few years ago. I hadn't seem him since. But today, there he was in Walmart.
He was in a wheelchair, strapped in, feeble but bright as a new penny. HIs eyes have not lost one bit of their sparkle, his voice has not changed.
I walked up to him and said, "Joe Castlen."
He looked up and said, "Well, yes."
Then he smiled and asked, "Are you who I think you are?"
I was given the most wonderful of gifts, I was able to tell him how much I like him, that he is my favorite person, and how much I respect him. He said I was putting him on a pedestal. I told him that I did that many years ago and had never taken him down.
We were happy to see each other. What a gift!

NOT SURE

I'm not sure what Olivia was thinking as she played with the wooden horse this afternoon. I went out to feed the bunny tonight and this is how I found the horse.

TOP

BOTTOM

FLOWERS IN A YELLOW ROASTING PAN

Today I planted flowers in a yellow roasting pan. It wasn't my roasting pan. I've never owned a pan this big nor have I ever cooked anything big enough to fit in this pan. I bought it at St. Vincent de Paul for $2. The bottom doesn't have any holes in it so the dianthus can't drain but they should be okay. I turned the top upside down and filled it full of petunias. Both are sitting at my back door.
I wonder who owned this yellow pan. It appears to have been well used and possible well loved. I wonder if it was just tossed or donated after a death. I wonder what has been cooked in the pan. Roast beef. Thanksgiving turkey. Pork roast with potatoes, carrots, and kraut.
I bet it cooked food for a lot of people every Sunday. The scraps were probably dumped in it and then tossed in the weeds at the back of the yard. Or maybe the pan was just put in the back yard for the cats. Hot soapy water would make it fit for the next meal.
Now the yellow pan is a flower pot. I'm sure it never thought that this would happen.

ELIZABETH'S LAST DAY OF 4th GRADE

LEAH, MACY, SOCKY & HERBIE MILLER

SOCKY & HERBIE MILLER

BUNNY

The bunny is settling in after his trip to Georgetown. He was an invited guest. He traveled in a basket in the front seat. Mama and I took turns giving him a treatment so he would be still. As long as one of us had a hand on him, he was happy. The Georgetown cats, Church, Callie, Macy, & Socky, didn't know what to think of him. Church & Callie mostly ignored him. Macy was curious but Socky was just beside himself. He walked on top of the cage and prowled around the cage. Then he began playing in a clothes basket that had been left beside the bunny cage. While he was walking along the top of the basket it tipped on it's side and trapped him between the basket and the cage. Poor Socky didn't even mind, he just kept trying to get the bunny.
Kristin and Elizabeth took the bunny to see their friends. Leah took him to daycare. She wrapped him in a blanket and we took a pot of petunias, his favorite food. I put the leash on the bunny and Leah had a great time showing him to her friends. She fed him petunias, showing them how to feed him the stem first. Then she let them feed the bunny.
The Charron household also has a snake named Park, a hermit crab, fish and 2 white mice.