Posted in Nature

Welcome to the neighborhood

Not the eagle we saw, but pretty close. Photo by Ivan K. Fox on Unsplash

A week ago, I helped my youngest and her family move out of their home into a temporary place while their new home is being built this summer. It was an atypical move since they had sold or given away a lot of their furniture. But there were plenty of boxes to keep everyone busy.

About halfway through unloading the first trailer load, someone looked up and said, “Quick, everyone come out here. Look, it’s a bald eagle!” The bird was sitting atop a thirty-foot-high scrub pine tree right behind their home. We watched for a few minutes to see if a mate might be nearby, but he or she didn’t join us.

This temporary home is next to a large pond, not far from a popular nesting area in a state park. When you’re looking for them, bald eagles make themselves scarce. Even when we go to the zoo, they often hide from the crowds. I love catching a glimpse of these beautiful birds who are willing to share their home with us here in northeast Florida.

Posted in Grace, Moments of grace

From despair to hope in five minutes

Photo by Skica911 on Pixabay

I was happy to see hardly any line when I pulled into Five Minute Oil Change. Every bay was full, but there were only two other cars ahead of me waiting to pull in. Sweet. If you’ve ever been, you know it can take over forty-five minutes to get that five-minute oil change.

Suddenly, the guy who waiting to pull into the first bay ignored the “don’t get out of your car” sign and jumped out. He shouted at the crew, “Hey, I’ve been waiting longer than any of these people! Are you going to get me in or not?”

The savvy manager rearranged a few cars and had him pull into the middle bay. I don’t know how long that customer had been waiting, but from that moment they got him out in about five minutes.

As I sat there and watched, I thought, “This could easily escalate into something much worse.” News stories of road rage and mass shootings have conditioned me to imagine that most people are carrying guns. All I have to do is look cross-eyed at them and they’ll try to use it.

Reality is much different. Everyone else at Five Minute Oil Change was either patient in line or working hard under the cars. A savvy, well-trained manager knew how to deal with the situation. Unruly customers are served and directed out of the bays as quickly as possible without further incident.

My four-year-old grandson was sitting in the backseat, looking through books we had just gotten at the library. I’m sad that he has to grow up in a world like this. I’m also hopeful because he can be someone who can make it a better place.

Posted in Review

The game of life: Super Mario edition (review)

A few weeks ago, my wife and grandson came home from a shopping trip with a new game, the Super Mario edition of the game of Life. I grew up playing the game of Life. My brother, sister, and I gave the spinner a real workout. This grandson is a big fan of all things Mario, so this was a natural choice for him.

The game is easy for four-year-olds and grandparents. You move Mario, Luigi, Princess Peach, or Yoshi around a board collecting coins and stars in order to fight the boss, Bowser. There is something very satisfying about the zipping of the spinner at the beginning of each turn.

Along the way, players play little mini-games against each other to collect more coins. Games include spin-offs, thumb wars, and rock, paper, scissors. Some turns include trying to beat classic enemies, like a Goomba or Boo, which gets you more coins to buy stars.

The best thing? It has kept my grandson busy all day. We watch him one day a week. Today, he walked into the house, said, “Hi,” to Gigi, opened up the box and began setting up the game. He set it up and played alone for several hours. He sorts through the cards, races the people around the board, and narrates the whole experience.

We did play a game after lunch. But he didn’t especially want to win. He just wanted to collect as many cards, coins, and starts as he could. Finally he got the best of Bowser and I declared him the champion. I got up to get some tea, he went right back at it.

I think we paid $20 for it at Walmart. Great investment!

Posted in grandparenting, Life

Reading (yawn) with my granddaughter

This week we watched two of our granddaughters while number three was being born. The couple of hours after morning preschool is designated quiet time at their house. The two-year old sleeps pretty well. The four-year old defines “quiet” differently than I do.

Yesterday’s primary quiet time activity was baking cookies. They were pre-made, pre-formed, pre-cut refrigerator cookies each featuring a unicorn. It only took her a few minutes to place each one on a parchment paper covered sheet pan. My wife popped them in the oven, leaving one hour and fifteen minutes of quiet time to go.

“Hey, grandpa, can you read me this story?” A book of five-minute Disney princess stories lay open on the coffee table.

“Sure.”

I love to read, and I love to read to children. I was as fascinated by the stories as she was. Each was tale of something that happened after the classic princess movie. Cinderella was competing in a horse show. Belle and a new friend were working on inventions. Ariel was planning her wedding to Prince Eric.

At the end of each one, she pointed to the next and said, “Now read this one.” My eyes get very heavy in the early afternoon, especially if I sit and read. Ordinarily I’d take a quick nap or do something active. Today I soldiered on. Three stories in, I had to pause, stand up, change position, and rub my eyes to continue reading about Mulan and Sleeping Beauty. The struggle to stay awake was real.

Finally the cookies were cool enough to eat. I welcomed the sugar rush. Then mom and dad walked in the door with the new baby.

She was fast asleep. I like your style, little one.

Posted in cooking, Life

Where there’s smoke: Pay attention to the cooking oil you use

Photo by Duane Mendes on Unsplash

I was feeling confident about my culinary expertise when something as simple as cooking oil humbled me.

In my defense, it was not my kitchen, so I was using an unfamiliar pan, range, and ingredients. I was at my daughter’s house where my wife and I were staying with a couple of granddaughters while their mom gave birth to number three.

I brought a small ribeye steak with me for supper the first night. At home I would just throw it on the grill. No grill here, so I got ready to pan fry it. At home I would reach for my cast iron frying pan. My daughter had a very nice set of stainless steel cookware. A pan’s a pan, right?

I let it warm up on medium heat while I ground a little salt and pepper onto the meat. Holding my hand over the pan, I could tell it was ready. I grabbed the non-stick spray from the cabinet and gave the pan a quick shot. Even though I quickly took it off the burner, a cloud of smoke filled the kitchen. I turned on the fan only to discover it wasn’t vented to the outside. The smoke alarms started beeping, my wife open the sliding glass door to the backyard and tried to fan the bad smoke out and the good air in. The oldest granddaughter asked, “What are you doing, grandpa?”

It looked like I had no idea what I was doing. I did recover and the steak tasted great. The pan was a pain to clean. I had much to learn about cooking with oil.

I did some quick research online. If I’m are cooking at high temperatures, refined avocado, safflower, and light olive oil work well. At medium temperatures, use corn, coconut, sunflower, and canola oil. Vegetable shortening, extra virgin olive oil, and butter are for lower temperatures. I’ve got a lot to learn, though. Some of those oils taste better certain sauces, marinades, and dressings than others.

For the next two days, the odor of burning oil greeted my nose every time I walked into their house. However, as we packed up to leave today, the smell was just about all gone. Whew.

Posted in Life

Another child to hold

Photo by Jimmy Conover on Unsplash

This afternoon I got to meet number nine – my ninth grandchild – in person. We’ve got a baseball team now. It’s always a special moment to hold a newborn, but even more so when it’s family.

We need these moments to say, “Hello!” in a world where we too often speak a graveside “Goodbye” to those we’ve loved for so long. A birth interrupts the news of another shooting, disease, storm, or war to remind us it’s not over yet. Life happens, too.

Fast asleep in her swaddle, I didn’t get to hear her voice, look into her eyes, tickle her toes, or let her tiny fingers wrap around mine. I’m looking forward to those moments.

This small person, completely dependent upon the care of her parents, will get whatever she wants, day or night, at least in the beginning. She will exert control over her family’s schedule, priorities, and activities. She is the main event, the headliner, Miss Popularity, and the keynote speaker all rolled into one. At least for now.

And we love it. We love these moments. And we love her. We hardly know her but she has captured our hearts. We wonder, “Where have you been?” She reminds us of how precious life is. Not just hers, but ours. And “those” people, too. (You know who I’m talking about.)

Her dad said she started yelling right away, announcing, “I’m here!” We’re glad you are. Welcome, little one.

Posted in neighbor, Stories

For your viewing pleasure: Some cringe-worthy yard art

One person’s yard ornament is a neighbor’s eyesore.

As the days lengthened with the advent of spring, I noticed what looked like a pig in my across-the-street neighbor’s yard one morning. By the time my dog and I returned, there was enough daylight to confirm the sighting. Yes, this five-gallon pig can greets me every morning when I open the kitchen blinds.

Our neighbors have faithfully treated us to a rotating display of horrendous yard art, including a green glow in the dark alien, sexy-legged frogs, and a satanic goat head. They truly believe this enhances the curb appeal of their property as they try to sell their house.

Oh, that’s right, I forgot to mention their house is on the market. I’m of the opinion that any real estate agent would immediately insist, “You need to get all that stuff out of the yard!”

My wife and I have already been plotting ways to help that process along. There is a large dumpster outside a house under construction just a few houses up the street. As soon as it turns dark, we’ll just toss it in!

Another neighbor just had a yard sale. Maybe we could take it up there and add it to their inventory when no one is looking.

We thought about putting a “free” sign on it. Someone cruising the neighborhood for curbside junk would pick it up.

On a whim, I put the photo out there on eBay and Google. Nothing like it out there. Maybe it’s one-of-a-kind. Priceless. If so, make me an offer. I’ll figure out a way to get it to you.

Posted in Life

Another garden begins to grow

This is what the rock garden looked like a few years ago.

My four-year-old grandson and I have really gotten into painting rocks. We’ve also begun the habit of attending preschool storytime at the library each Wednesday morning.

There is a rock garden outside the library. Someone there laid out a nice three-foot by three-foot mulched area not far from the front door for painted rocks. According to the sign there, passersby can take one for inspiration, share one for motivation, or leave one to help the garden grow. Cool idea.

Week after week we stop at the rock garden and never saw a rock, other than a large center brick. Of course, week after week we also forgot to bring some rocks.

We finally remembered on our way out the door on Wednesday. He carefully picked out three rocks to take with us: a dark blue one featuring a jellyfish, a green one, and a light blue one. He had painted the solid ones; I can take credit for the sea creature. When we got to the library, there were, of course, no rocks there. He carefully and proudly placed the rocks.

We walked inside, returned last week’s books, went to story time, and then found a few new books to borrow from the children’s library. When we returned to look at the rock garden, two of the rocks had already been taken!

He was a little disappointed, but I told him it was a good thing. Someone had noticed his rocks. Someone was enjoying his rocks. And maybe someone would paint rocks and bring them to share. We might be the ones to revive this dormant garden!

Posted in garden, Life

From Tiny Seeds to Blooming Beauty: The Miracle of Gardening

As wandered through the garden shop’s aisles of colorful and more expensive than ever pots of annuals, I decided, “I’m going to plant some seeds this year.” I had just finished cleaning up my backyard gardens which were now, other than the amaryllis, devoid of color. Having seen the beautifully landscaped entrances to gated-communities near me, I visualized now nice my garden would look in just a few weeks.

The seed display is off in the corner, behind the patio furniture. This store stocks two brands, and each brand offers regular and organic packets of vegetable and flower seeds. Other than price, I doubt there is much difference between organic and non-organic seeds. I’ll look that up later.

I’ve researched what flowers will grow best in my area, so I am armed with a list. The pictures on each packet explode with color. I underestimated just how amazing my garden will look!

I find zinnias, marigolds, and cosmos, but none of the others on my list. I know, I should have just shopped online. But then I’d miss the sights and smells that get my gardening juices flowing. I do find a couple of colorful flower mixes. I’ll give those a try.

Back home, I’m ready to plant. I carefully open the first packed of zinnia seeds. Wow, you don’t get very many seeds in a packet. They’re tiny, too. I carefully pour some into the palm of my hand. Don’t sneeze, or they’ll be gone. Picking up a few between thumb and forefinger, I drop them along a line I’ve drawn in the soil with a trowel. I can’t even see where they’ve landed. Before I know it, they’re gone. Trusting that they have found a home, I gently cover them with a 1/4-inch layer of dirt. That’s not very much, but that’s what the instructions call for. I do this with all my purchased seeds. They didn’t go very far. I will have to buy more for other areas in the garden.

I grab my watering can and moisten all the areas I’ve planted. And that’s it. Done. And what do I have to show for all my efforts? Nothing. My garden looks exactly the same as when I started. Dirt. I know, it takes a few days for the seeds to germinate and weeks before I’ll see any flowers.

The whole process is a simple yet powerful act of faith. Faith that the seed will actually grow. Faith that the plants will actually produce flowers. Faith that color will explode from that little black speck that disappeared into the ground.

It’s a miracle. A lifeless seed comes to life with some soil, sun, and water. And I get to watch that miracle happen.