This month began with a week's visit by our 12-yr-old grandson Gabriel. Due to his propensity
during previous visits to stay one night and the next morning say, "I want to go home," we did
some brain-storming about what we wanted to do while he was with us. Gabe, Del, and I each
wrote on Post-it notes some thing we wanted to do, one thing per page. On a flipchart in the
living room, I outlined the days Gabe would be with us and we proceeded to find spots for each
activity. I encouraged Gabe to look at our schedule each morning and move things around. We
didn't plan on the tropical storm Cindy paying us a visit, so she muscled her way into our plans
for the week and some things got left undone, for this year. But the plan worked! When we were
finished on Friday night sticking all the notes in place, Gabe could see a week's worth of fun
things ahead of him. Sure enough, Gabe awoke after the first night all enthused about the coming
week.
The first day we went to the CODOFIL breakfast, "where all these old people speak
French," Gabe said to his mom later. Gabe drew the ticket out of the hat and Rosie Harris, the
founder of the chapter won the money. Afterwards, Gabe, Del, and I came back to Timberlane
and played Pay Me! and Gabe got to play along with Buster and Emily, Paul and Joyce, and JB
Borel. After everyone left, Del took Gabe to Block Buster with her and bought him a video game
for his PlayStation which he had hooked to the guest room's tv set. Several times during the
week he came to use my PC to Google some shortcuts to one of his games.
On Sunday morning Gabe came to High Mass at St. Joseph's Church with us. Afterwards
I bought him a candle in the outdoor chapel and showed him how to light it. He lit it for his Papa
Herb who lives in the spirit now. Del was unable to come to the Jamison's BBQ pool party, so I
took Gabe with me. Where there's a pool, Gabe will be in and will likely be underwater more
than above water. He's like an otter in a stream, always popping up for air and going back under.
He played with the Jamison's niece, Jo El, in the pool and later on the hammock when the rain
storm came back. Mike didn't let a little rain stop his activity at the BBQ pit and seemed to
enjoy the cooling respite the rain provided him. That night we watched "Wizard of Oz" together.
A special guest explained how she goes to refugee camps around the world with that movie, and
it is a universal hit with these children who have never even heard of Oz.
For the Fourth of July, Del and I took Gabe to watch the fireworks from Woldenberg Park
on the levee in the French Quarter. They had two barges of fireworks out in the Mississippi River
which were both pumping out fireworks right in front of our eyes. Gabe seemed to enjoy his walk
through the Riverwalk, first time for him, on the way to the fireworks. I had some catfish fingers
from Mike Anderson's restaurant and Gabe had a hamburger with Del at another food kiosk.
To get ready for Gabe's visit, I had taken down the B17 Bomber balsa stick model I had
begun almost fifteen years ago when his older brother Chris was only three. I had done only the
fuselage and one wing, but had stored it carefully in the attic and it was ready to work on. Gabe
and I did a little work on it. Gabe and I also worked on getting his website fleshed out with some
webpages he could fill in later as he gets older. You can see the results by viewing Gabe's
website. Simply Click Here!
I took Gabe with me grocery shopping at the A&P. He wanted some Danimals Yogurt
among other things. Gabe helped me pick figs and after a couple days of picking I had enough to
preserve them. I have waited for 5 years to get my fig tree able to produce enough figs to put up
some preserves. This was a perennial activity when I was a kid. I loved picking figs on my
Granda Babin's trees when I was Gabe's age and I hope to instill that joy in him. My brother Paul
reminded me that our brother David loved fig preserves so much that when he was diagnosed
with terminal bone cancer, he bought a case of fig preserves to eat during the last months of his
life. I imagined that David was guiding my hands as I made these fig preserves. I have chosen to
share with you my recipe for preserving figs in the Recipe of the Month. One of the chores I
didn't like about jarring preserves was the boiling of the jars. I use my dishwasher on the long
POT cycle with the heater on and it sterilizes the jars just fine without all the fuss. Simply time
the completion of the dishwasher cycle to when the figs are ready to jar. Take out the hot jars one
at a time and fill immediately.
Cindy came to pay us a visit this month, not my cousin, Cindy Matherne, but tropical
storm Cindy who packed near hurricane winds and took down the last of my Lombardy Poplars
across the back fence. Left us with a gaping hole which had to be repaired after the stump was
removed. I've seen farmers remove such a stump in movies, and they usually had a mule or an
ox, neither of which I possess. I do have an Irish buddy, Brian Kelley, who is strong as an ox, and
together we managed to overcome the weight of the stump and the suction holding it in the
ground, place it on a cart, and dump it by the front road for pickup.
Outside of the yard mess to clean up, Cindy left us without power for 12 hours. By
keeping the doors closed on the fridges, we did not lose any food, but the power was out from
midnight till noon, and about ten A.M. I took the propane torch I had just bought for some
plumbing repairs, a metal CSA cup I bought at Gettysburg, heated water in the cup and ran it
through our Melita 1-cup drip coffee-maker so we could have a refreshing cup of coffee.
Cindy also re-arranged our plans for our anniversary celebration. Brian and Judy Kelley
took us out. We went to the Twilight Concert in City Park, the Sculpture Garden, and the
Train Garden before dinner, but discovered that all three venues were closed due to Cindy's immoderate visit to
New Orleans. Will take a week to get all the tree limbs removed from those areas. We ate dinner
at Semolina's as planned, however, and had a great time.
My three daughters had given me a Father's Day & birthday gift of stepping stone they
had designed. They wanted a verse from one of my poems to go with the plaque, so they spent
three hours poring over my books of poetry looking for just the right phrase to use. The results
can be seen in the Poem Section of this Digest, "A Fish Tale". I had placed it immediately
alongside the new water garden off the East Portico. I could step on it to feed the goldfish. They
liked it and I liked it. One morning I awoke with an image of the plaque turned into an animated
.GIF image. I immediately set to work creating it and the results can be seen in this Digest. The
phrase on the plaque says, "Swims serenely by", and in the animated image, the fish on the
plaque does exactly that. Thanks, Yvette, Carla, and Maureen! ! !
One day I decided to repair the red shovel with the broken handle. I banged out the old
pin and the handle piece from the shovel. Then I made a jig to align the drill for the hole for the
new pin. Then I heated up the shovel with the propane torch and banged in the new hickory
handle till it went all the way to the shoulder. When it cools it will be very tight! Learned this
from the Wheelwrights on "Into The West" just this month. I had seen my dad, Buster, replace
shovel handles when I was a boy, but didn't remember the details. It cost me more for a handle
than to buy a new shovel, but the new shovels were of inferior metal and wood than this one.
After Gabe left, Del offered to help me with the B17 model. That was great on two
counts: she wouldn't object to its being handy on the dining room table, and she could help me
with the organizing of all the parts. She has begun to learn to cut out parts and glue them into
place and we now have completed the two wings and the rudder is being assembled as I type
these words.
This month, we sold our older 96 Maxima to Chris, our grandson. He works for a Nissan
dealership and can keep it in fine running order for another 150,000 miles. It still looks great, and
driving it felt to me like putting on an old pair of slippers — you know the feeling — they're so
comfortable, you hate to part with them, even for a new pair of slippers. With two Maximas in
the garage, Doris's Cadillac in the driveway and John and then Stoney's cars parked in our
driveway for the past couple of weeks, Timberlane looked like a new car lot. Now we're down to
only two cars in the garage and none in the driveway again.
For our anniversary I got Del's Eddie Bauer watch shined up at the jeweler's, a new
battery put in, and a new crystal. It is her favorite all-time watch and it had been waiting for me
to get its battery replaced. She was so glad to remove her wide banded replacement watch
and get the loose bracelet band of the Bauer back on.
My daughter Maureen got promoted to Assistant Principal in charge of curriculum at East
Jefferson High School, her mother's alma mater. Our three sons went there, and Stoney told us
the current principal there, Maureen's boss, is his old football coach. Del and I decided to give
Maureen the "Launch a Dream" framed poster which has graced several of Del's offices over the
years. When I went to retrieve that picture, I found with it the framed astrological poster of the
Crab which I wanted to give to my masseuse, Laura, who has the same astrological sign and has
just moved to a new location. Both pictures are now in place in their new homes with happy new
owners.
We celebrated the return from Baltimore to New Orleans of Stoney and Sue and their son
Sam by taking them and Sue's parents, Phyllis and Foster Budd, to lunch at Morton's Seafood
restaurant on the Tchefuncte River in Madisonville. Was a great day for a ride across Lake
Pontchartrain for a visit with family.
For my birthday I got great gifts from Del to open, plus lots of cards and best wishes.
With eight kids, it's always interesting to note the order in which the phone calls come in on my
birthday. Received a spooky story from Anna Keller on my birthday which I share with you in
the Cajun Story Section this month. This one was too good to wait. For dinner we went to Bon
Ton Restaurant downtown and enjoyed a great meal together.
This next story is a true one. It involves my grandson Gabe and his father Steve. Steve
took Gabe fishing and he taught Gabe how to bait the hook, but the bait kept falling off. He
showed Gabe again and again, it fell off. Finally he left Gabe to his own resources and about
fifteen minutes later, Gabe jumped up, threw his arms into the air in triumphant and yelled, "I've
mastered baiting!" Steve nearly fell out the boat laughing. For the rest of the day, Gabe was
called the Master Baiter! [Note: I've added this story to my Grandparent Tidbits webpage along
with Gabe's Jingle Bells story.]
On the last Monday of July Del and I had just finished eating some red beans and rice when I got a call
from our fourplex that a water line had broken. It turned out to be a pipe going out to a hose
connection, but it took several hours to locate it and get the pipe replaced.
I was reading "Toward Imagination" by Rudolf Steiner this month when I came upon this
passage which conjured up a poem in me. First the passage, and then the poem:
[page 54] The kind words spoken to us have a direct effect on us, just as color affects our
eyes directly. The love living in the other's soul is borne into your soul on the wings of the
words.
On the Wings of Words
Love is borne from soul to soul
on the wings of words.
No dictionary can reveal
the meaning of
The words that fly soul to soul
on the wings of love.
No transcription can reveal the warmth
of love that flows
When
Love is borne from soul to soul
on the wings of words.
No philosopher can explain
the magic of
The words that fly soul to soul
on the wings of love.
If you wish to share the love
a'borning in your heart
If you wish to span the gap
keeping you apart
Fill your words with Love
and send them flying o'er
For
Love is borne from soul to soul
on the wings of words.
One day I went out to the East Portico garden to see what kind of weed was growing up in
it. Turns out it was a new papaya tree sprouting. I had plucked the only papaya that lasted over
the winter when I noticed it getting yellow (indicating ripe), and ate it. It was delicious and I
saved the seeds. This is a Hawaiian papaya, but the A&P no longer sells that kind of papaya — it
has gone exclusively to Central American papayas which are either very large or red flesh instead
of yellow. I had been in despair of what I would do if the two remaining papaya trees were to die
without an offspring, and now my problem was solved! I called Del and said, "We have a new
grandbaby!" She said, "Tiffany had her son already?" "No," I replied, "our papaya had a baby."
She laughed. Our grand-daughter Tiffany is due in early September and this will be our second
great-grandson.
My club's summer dinner was at the Crescent City Brewhouse again this year. About a
dozen of us were present. The four course meal was great: a whole plate of tasty steamed mussels
with sauce, a fried softshell crab over pasta with a thin slice of eggplant over it, a gilled Mahi-Mahi over chili cheese toast, and a light cheesecake for dessert. All elegantly presented and
delicious. Everyone had a great time.
We heard that our son John got promoted — he's now in charge of acquisitions and will
be doing some traveling to possible new additions to his company's business. Seems all of the
children we worried about at one time are now running the world.
Del's mom, Doris Richards, has survived her latest kyphoplasty on her T11, T12
vertebrae. Those are the first thoracic vertebrae and sit directly above the lumbar ones she had
glued awhile back. Rest of her back looks fine. With some minor procedures for her remaining
pain, she should be getting more and more comfortable. Her visual exam showed that she has lost
the sight in one eye due to macular degeneration, but the sight in her remaining eye is still good.
Del has been able to release the night-time help, which means Doris is now able to get out of bed
without help, which is good news. Your continued prayers for her are most appreciated.
Till next month when September comes knocking, may you enjoy the rest of your summer . . . Bobby
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In the book, A Zen Wave, by Robert Aitken, he talks about the famous haiku about waving goodbye and farewells. (Note: A haiku is a 17 syllable Japanese poem, and Kiso is a place in Japan. Translation is by R. H. Blyth.)
Fare well to you, Don Topping. Remember how we first met? We had just moved to Foxborough, a small town of 14,000 in southeastern Massachusetts, and I went to get our cars registered at the small insurance agency along the Common. Valerie, your wife helped me, and in talking to her, I discovered you did handyman work. I would be very busy in my new job as Applications Engineer at the Foxboro Co. so I knew I'd need your help. Sure enough, a week or so later, my wife slipped and knocked the Sony TV on the floor in our bedroom and it bounced off the window of our house and broke the pane of glass. So I called Valerie and she sent you over to fix the window for us.
My wife at the time, Patty, showed you the window and explained how it got broken by being hit by the tv. You removed the window and went to the only hardware store, Aubuchon's, in Foxborough where everybody knew you. You bought a replacement pane of glass and went home to replace it. While putting the glass into position the glass broke. This meant you had to go back to Aubuchon's to get another pane of glass. And you knew they'd asked you what happened.
You know this part, don't you? You didn't want to admit to the guys in the back of Aubuchon's that you broke the pane installing it, so you made up this story for the Aubuchon guys (or you made up the story when you told it to us — your stories were always so creative and fun we never cared if they were true or not):
"What happened? Well, I installed replaced the pane and re-installed the window and I was standing back looking at my handiwork. I asked Mrs. Matherne how the glass got broke, and she said, 'Like this.' as she picked up the TV and threw it against the window, and now I have to fix it again."
This was only one of numerous stories you regaled me with during the years we lived in Foxborough. I recall that you were a drummer and played back-up to many famous stars such as Ray Coniff, who also entered the spiritual world last year. Perhaps as I type these words, you and he are doing a celestial number together. Go well, dear friend, and, as you did when I lived in Foxborough, drop by any time when you need some company.
As I listened to a Teaching Company lecture on William Faulkner, I picked up this quotation from his “As I Lay Dying”:
Let’s see if we can come up with an ingenious way of fixing that problem, plugging a verb into the gap. Such a verb will allow to talk about the processes during the time between death and a new birth in the simple way we talk about living. We live and we die means we undergo the process of living which then terminates. How then do we say we die and then we X where X represents the process we undergo during the time between death and a new birth? That is the process I ask for a genii from the spiritual world to inspire in me a word for it. It must be a word which represents life or vita in its etymology while representing a time between lives.
The best source at the best price is to order your copies on-line is from the publisher Random House/Xlibris's website above.