Author: William Douthwaite

Posted in dogs, Life

No instructions? No problem!

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Daniël Maas on Unsplash

I recently helped my daughter, husband, and two boys move into their brand new home. After moving all the heavy stuff in from a trailer, there were a few things to put together, like the boys’ beds.

With the help of a cousin, I assembled bed number one, the bigger of the two, without any trouble. Bed number two was more of a challenge. A few months ago, their golden retriever puppy had chewed up the corner of the box. No parts of the bed were damaged. But he managed to obliterate the instructions.

Since I’ve assembled more than my share of IKEA furniture, I felt confident this would be a breeze. Come on, it’s a just a twin bed with headboard and footboard. An uncle and I opened up the box and got out all the parts. Hmm. Many of the parts looked the same. The legs had lots of holes that had to match up with other holes. It wasn’t obvious which pieces were for the headboard and which were for the footboard.

Thankfully, enough of the box was intact and my partner could look up the model name and number. Once he brought up a picture of the bed from a shopping site, we knew what we had to do. All the screws were the same size, so we didn’t have to guess which ones went where. When we were done, the bed looked just like the picture.

I’ve had plenty of puppies chew up plenty of things in my home. My Labrador retriever Gabriel had a fondness for the heels of shoes and my roommate’s candles. Our chocolate Lab Rachel chewed up the legs of a borrowed rocking chair. We currently find teeth marks in the grandkids’ plastic toys. After a few ripped up rolls of toilet paper, we now keep the bathroom doors closed. The same pup who ate the bed frame instructions stole a couple of uncooked meatballs off the kitchen counter.

A friend of mine lost the cover of his bible to an enthusiastic pup. Just about everyone I know who wears hearing aids has lost one to a curious canine. It’s all part of the fun of being a dog owner.

Speaking of Gabriel (he’s the baseline against which we measure all our dogs), he once tore into a Christmas box my mom sent to us in Connecticut. The box arrived by UPS, and we knew it contained presents for the family. Gabe tore into the box and found the gift for him, a large, carefully wrapped rawhide bone. We came home and found him eagerly chewing on it. He didn’t bother, chew, or rip open anything else in the box. He just knew there was a gift for him in the box and he knew which one it was.

Posted in Life

Vivid backyard memories

Posted on by William Douthwaite
My childhood backyard from the bottom of the hill

The moment my daughter and her family moved into their new home, her boys were outside, running around and playing in the yard. They kicked soccer balls around with their cousins and threw balls for the dog to retrieve. The two previous houses they lived in had little yard to play in. This is so good for them!

What a blessing to have a yard to play in. The home I grew up in had the biggest fenced in backyard on the block. The yard included a big hill with flat areas at the top and bottom. We could roll down the hill pretty fast, crashing into the fence at the bottom. We had enough room to play baseball and football even though we had to climb over the fence to retrieve hits and kicks. In the fall, the maple trees left behind plenty of leaves for huge piles to jump in. In the winter, a little snow made our yard the best sledding hill around. By building a small ramp, we could get airtime with a saucer sled. We ate a lot of mulberries from the trees at the bottom of the hill. My friends and I build a great fort at the bottom with some wood my dad got from a salvage yard. The dogs we owned over the years loved to chase balls thrown from the top of the hill all the way down to the far corner until they were exhausted. We set up giant games of croquet that covered our half-acre.

As I write this, I am amazed at how vivid my backyard memories are from fifty-plus years ago!

Posted in Life

Whose house is this, anyway?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Kenny Eliason on Unsplash

The small group we’ve been a part of for the past year meets twice a month, rotating through the members’ homes. Last night, we met at a home I haven’t been to before. I had directions to the H******, but I had no idea who they were. I only know most people first names.

I thought I would be clever. I figured that I’d be able to pick up clues at the house and figure out who in our group lived there. I pride myself at noticing things, so I was confident it wouldn’t take me long to figure it out.

However, when I arrived and began looking around, the home had none of the usual clues. First there were no pictures of anyone on the walls. No pictures of children or grandchildren. No framed family pictures from an old church directory. No pictures of fishing trips or cruises or other adventures. Absolutely nothing. Nothing on the refrigerator. No calendar on the wall.

Okay, I guess that would have been too easy. If I keep looking around, I’ll pick up on a hobby and be able to connect the dots. While the home was nicely and simply decorated, I didn’t find any sign of their interests. A Willow Tree nativity sat on a shelf high above the television. The table where we ate was decorated with starfish and sea shells. There were no bookshelves in the living room. There was an electric piano in the dining area, but that didn’t help me.

I watched everyone’s body language. Who acted most at home here? It was hard to tell. I let myself in when I arrived, so no one was working the front door. Lots of people were working in the kitchen, arranging food for supper. Several people sat in the very comfortable chairs in the living area. The family dog greeted everyone with the same enthusiasm.

Finally, I resorted to a process of elimination. One couple arrived late, so I knew it wasn’t them. I realized I had been to the homes of three of the other couples. So this was the home of the fifth.

I enjoy playing games like this, gathering enough clues to solve the puzzle.

Posted in Life, Travel

The darkest darkness

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by David Gabrić on Unsplash

For our autumn getaway, see some color, enjoy some cooler weather trip we found a remote cabin on a hillside in western North Carolina. To get there, we had to drive to the end of a twisty mile-long gravel road, where there was no one else in sight.

Each night I made sure we were back from hiking or small town exploring by dark. The access road was difficult enough in daylight. No way I was going to tackle it at night.

But each evening before bed, I did have to take the dog for one last walk. On one occasion I switched off my flashlight just to see how dark it was. It was dark. It was the darkest darkness I’ve ever experienced. Cloudy skies hid the moon and stars. No far off light from a nearby town reached this area, because there was no nearby town. I couldn’t see the road I was standing on. I couldn’t see the trees around us. I couldn’t see the cabin. It was around the bend. I couldn’t see the white dog at the end of a leash. I couldn’t see anything.

I remember thinking, “If my flashlight quits, I’m not sure how I’ll find my way back.” On subsequent walks, I made sure I had my phone in my pocket for a backup flashlight. Maybe my eyes would have adjusted. Maybe I’d be able to see a little bit. Maybe not.

I remember asking a group of middle school students, “What is the darkest hour of the night?” It was one of the few times they said, “That’s a good question.” It is a good question. Poetic wisdom says it’s always darkest before the dawn. And how do you measure darkness, anyway?

Anyway, the darkness was impressive. Not eerie, not scary, just complete. Where else is it really dark? A cave. A closet. Inside a refrigerator with the door closed. When the power goes out at night. When you shut your eyes at night?

Posted in dogs, Moments of grace

Life is fun when everyone is your best friend

Posted on by William Douthwaite

On our way back to the cabin one afternoon, we stopped at a small collection of stores by the side of Rt. 23 in Rabun County, Georgia. A jewelry store was flanked by a general store and several antique stores. Since we had our dog Winston with us, I sat out front in a rocking chair while my wife went to check out the shops.

Everyone passing by wants to meet our uber-energetic little white dog who sincerely believes everyone in this world is his best friend.

Phil, owner of the jewelry store was the first to come out to chat. He told me how he makes everything in his shop himself, specializing in native American items. Phil had several rescued dogs and cats at home. Whenever he lay down, one would perch on his head the others cuddled up on each side of him. Winston was thrilled to check out the scent of Phil’s pets. Even though there were “No Pets” signs in the windows, Phil said that everyone here loves dogs.

The next gentleman who stopped to visit explained that he had just adopted a rescue dog. He named his dog Deeohgee (D-O-G). It took me a minute to figure out he didn’t just name his dog Dog. Reminds me of a person I used to visit who named her cat Kitty. Winston was glad this guy had plenty of time to pet him.

A woman walking a very tiny dog stopped by next. Tails were up, furiously wagging five times a second as their noses came together. After a few curious sniffs, the little dog was spooked and backed away from Winston’s playful lunge. A little sniff-and-greet made everyone’s day.

A young couple walked by next, coming out of the general store and headed towards the antiques. He led the way, nodding as he passed, while she followed with arms crossed several steps behind. Neither one looked very happy. I guess they were determined to go antiquing whether they liked it or not. When they came out of the antique store, their disposition hadn’t changed as they walked by in the other direction on the way to their car. Winston so wanted to cheer them up, but they weren’t in the mood.

One more couple greeted us. He had been waiting in a rocking chair, just like me, outside the general store. When she came out with a package, he joined her and they walked past with a friendly greeting. Winston could barely contain himself, but they had to be on their way.

I’ll tell you, life is never dull when everyone is your best friend. What if we all had that attitude?

Posted in Life

Just park wherever

Posted on by William Douthwaite

After poking around the antique store for a while, my wife and I found an outdoor table at Gracious Plates, an eatery on Main Street. It was a warmer than expected first day in Franklin, North Carolina.

I watch this Mercedes SUV slowlying and deliberately park on top of the line, occupying both spaces right in front of the restaurant. A couple who looked much older than us very slowly made their way into the restaurant. I didn’t have to say a word. My wife knew exactly what I was thinking. But I wondered out loud anyway, “Think that will be us in twenty years?”

As we ate, I watched a cement truck slowly backing in inches away from the expensive vehicle as a road crew waited to finish up some street repairs. My wife made me laugh as she said, “I’ll bet they’re sweating now!”

Maybe that’s the way you do things around here. Ten minutes later this second SUV parks in front of us making no attempt to stay in the lines.

Posted in Stories

Twelve Spies

Posted on by William Douthwaite

“There must be a winery around here.”

We had just finished hiking a little piece of the Appalachian Trail and a nice glass of red on a cool, sunny, fall afternoon seemed appropriate. I pulled into a scenic overlook and found a better cell signal. There were many wineries to choose from nearby, but most were closed on Wednesdays.

Ah, here’s one: Twelve Spies Vineyards in Rabun Gap, GA. I didn’t think much about the name. Twenty minutes away. “We’ll-behaved dogs welcome.” Let’s go check it out.

It was a small place surrounded by lots and lots of unoccupied picnic tables and beautiful mountain views. We and the person behind the counter were the only ones there.

She welcomed us and offered us a tasting. We decided to just get a couple of glasses. I had a merlot and Lisa chose a dry red blend. A pack of salami, cheese, and crackers, plus a couple of chocolate truffles and we were all set.

As we sat and enjoyed the afternoon, I took a close look at my glass. It was etched with a line drawing of two men carrying a huge bunch of grapes on a pole between them, captioned “Numbers 13:33.”

I get it! When Moses sent twelve spies into Canaan, they brought back a giant cluster of grapes to show everyone what a bountiful land was just across the Jordan River.

What a great name for a vineyard. How many folks would understand the story behind the name? Well, here in the Bible Belt, where you pass a church every half-mile, probably quite a few get it.

Posted in Travel

One piece of the trail

Posted on by William Douthwaite

We finally hiked our first section of the Appalachian Trail. Only 2,188.25 miles to go.

Our November cabin in Franklin, North Carolina was a few mile from the Winding Stair – Siler Bald section of the trail. We didn’t do the whole 4.7 mile trail. With a Westie leading most of the way, we only went a mile and three quarters. A 3-1/2 mile hike made for a great fall afternoon.

The trailhead is on a highway that connects Asheville and Murphy. One you cross the highway, the trail leads through dense rhododendrons, across a trickle of water, to the start of a long uphill hike.

It’s not an especially steep grade, just steady. Most of the leaves had fallen, so I could see hundreds of yards in every direction through the trees. The only color left was the deep reds of oak trees. The leaf-covered trail is well-marked by white rectangles on successive trees.

We took our first break at Moore campground, and then went another 3/4 mile where we decided to head back downhill. From there we could see Siler Bald, another 500 feet up, where the view would be amazing. Of course we shared our water, oranges, and bars with the dog.

We only passed one other hiker the whole day. A solo hike was coming down the hill as we worked our way up. With two hiking poles, he looked like he knew what he was doing.

It’s actually harder going down. It’s tougher on the knees, and I had to pay closer attention to my steps. You can’t see all the stones and roots on the trail when it’s covered by leaves. I’m happy to report that we didn’t have anyone stumbles that day.

Without a dog in tow, we might have done the whole section. I don’t know if we’ll do the whole thing, but I’m looking forward to hiking more parts of the AT.

Posted in Travel

My favorite cabin so far

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I stumbled across this cabin by filtering my Franklin, NC Airbnb search to less than $100. We’ve stayed in other “cabins” in western North Carolina, but this one is an actual cabin out in the middle of nowhere (actually in the Nantahala forest). The cabin is so remote you can’t use GPS to find it.

After a day-long drive, we got to the road to the cabin before dark. It’s a good thing we did. The mile-long driveway was steep and twisty, cut into the hillside, covered with leaves and bordered by a steep drop off. It would have been ten times harder to navigate in the dark. The first time up the hill we kept wondering, “Is this the road?” “Is this a road?” Thankfully the cabin came into view.

Previous fall destination cabins were houses in communities surrounded by woods and farms. This cabin is made from logs chinked with cement. The front porch roof is supported and fenced with tree trunks. The sleeping loft appears to be a homemade addition accessed by very steep stairs.

Of course, like most short term rental cabins, the rustic structure is furnished with many conveniences. There is a gas furnace for cooler weather, an electric range, a refrigerator, a microwave, an outdoor gas grill, a dishwasher, and a satellite dish for TV and internet. A portable AC unit and fans keep things cooler in the summertime. So you’re not really roughing it, but you feel like you are.

The front porch is lined with rocking chairs. Facing west, it’s a great place to watch the sunset over the mountains. Or you go up the hill out back to a fire pit area and look out over the valley.

The inside is furnished with a mix of antiques, mementoes, pottery, pictures, and contemporary furniture. I’ve founds games, books, toys, and puzzles in every nook and cranny. As I mentioned yesterday, there is an upright piano, painted white, in the main room. And a fold out sofa bed. I loved finding a cast iron pan to cook with along with two old-fashioned hand turn egg beaters in the kitchen drawers. The upstairs bed is smaller and squeakier than home, but so far we’ve slept great.

I’ve run across two memorial rocks engraved with birth and death dates. I’m thinking husband and father. Before they started renting it out, I’ll bet they burned wood in the fireplace. They still have lots of split logs piled up under the porch, long since retired by the current gas logs. I’ll have to message my host to find out more about the history.

I’m surprised to see so little wildlife. All I’ve seen is a few squirrels and birds. No bears. Maybe they’re already hibernating. No deer, either. They’re good at hiding.

I’ll bet not too many guests come in snowy weather, since you’d need a 4×4 to get up here.

It’s quiet, peaceful, comfortable, simple, and relaxing. We’re only minutes from friends, great hiking, quaint downtowns, coffee shops, breweries, and antique shops. Perfect for us.

Yes, this is the road