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Another Flood

Posted on April 30, 2014 by susanrray

 

aclkI awoke to the noise of the wet vacuum roaring. Husband wasn’t anywhere in sight.  Even in my half-awake state, I knew somewhere in our house there was a water mess. Maybe I’d just cover my head and pretend I slept right through whatever was happening.  But I couldn’t.

 

It was 5:30 a.m. and at 1:00 p.m., thirty women were coming to my house for a meeting.  I’d cleaned, set up folding chairs – done everything to be ready.  I frantically tried to think if I’d left water running the night before.  I thought of the day I’d stopped up the utility room sink, turned on the water, and then, two hours later, water-soaked ceiling tiles fell in the garage. And I remembered the time I supervised one of our Grands during his bath, and he poured water around the bathtub to make a moat. The office under the bathroom was flooded. Now what?

 

Following the vacuum noise, I found Husband in the basement den.  The carpet was soaked and water covered the bathroom tile floor.  I stood quietly until he saw me and turned off the vacuum.  “Did I leave something on?”  I asked.   No.  The water leak was behind a commode.  The shut-off valve had sprung a leak.  When Husband awoke and heard water running, he discovered a spraying fountain.

 

“The only way I could stop the spray was to turn off the main water supply.  There’s no water in the house. Don’t’ turn on any faucets or flush a commode,” Husband said. He turned on the wet vac and resumed his chore.

 

Greatly relieved that I hadn’t caused the problem, I headed to the kitchen to make coffee. I never found the gallon of emergency water that I thought I kept under the sink.  I learned that two cups of ice cubes melted for three minutes in the microwave equals 1¼ cups of water.

 

As I handed Husband a steaming cup of black coffee, I asked, “Is this a leak you can fix?”

 

He answered with a question – one that told me he knew what I was really thinking. “What time is your company coming?”  I hated the mess and knew the leak had to be fixed, but my real concern was that we ladies had to have water to wash our hands and flush.  I’ve learned that in situations like this that the best thing I can do is to be quiet and get out of the way.

 

When I returned from the gym after exercising and taking a shower, a crew from a cleaning service had finished the water vacuuming job and set up powerful fans to dry the carpet, and plumbers had repaired the shut-off valve.  Once again, water flowed. I profusely thanked Husband – I’ve always appreciated that he’s a take-charge, fix-it guy.  And I smugly, but silently, I congratulated myself for staying calm.

 

And then a few minutes before my company arrived the doorbell rang, and there stood a pest control man.  He held a bug sprayer.   By the time I told him about the water spraying from behind a commode and all the repair men who’d been in our house that morning and the two times that I’d accidentally flooded our house in the past year and that thirty ladies would be at my doorstep any minute, he practically ran to his truck.

 

Poor guy.  I just couldn’t be calm and quiet one minute longer.

 

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Filed under: Everyday Life, Flood | Tagged: , , | 1 Comment »

At the Zoo

Posted on April 24, 2014 by susanrray

 

DSC01747It was a cold, 50-degree windy day.  A Friday during school spring break when Husband and I visited the Denver Zoo.  And so did hundreds of other people. The Colorado wind blew fiercely. If it’d just been the two of us, I’d have suggested we choose another day to see the animals.   As we got out of the car, Son said, “Dean, we’re in a parking lot.  Choose a hand to hold.”  Our two-year-old Grand screamed, “Pop!” and reached for Husband’s hand.  Husband and Dean walked two steps in front of me.  Son and Daughter-in-law, pushing nine-month-oldNeil in a stroller, led the way. Dean turned to look at me and said, “Come on, Gran!”  He held out his little hand to take mine. The wind blew much less fiercely.

 

Many groups in the ticket line looked just like us.  Grandparents, parents, grands.  But I doubt that other groups had experienced leaders like ours. “Dean, what’s the first animal Pop and Gran will see?” his mother asked.

 

“Lions!  GRRRRRR!” Dean said.  Pop and I walked fast to keep up with his churning legs.  The massive male lion lay sleeping on a boulder just a few feet on the other side of the thick glass inside Predator Ridge; the female slept on the ground.  “Pop, pick me up.”   Husband held him and Son stood beside them.  The lion opened his massive copper brown eyes and then yawned.  His head was as big as Neil’s stroller seat and when this cat stood on the rock, his eyes were level with mine.  The female lion stood, looked toward the male, and turned away when he lay down.

 

Thus, our day began at the Denver Zoo that first opened in 1896.  It encompasses 80 acres and in 1918 was the first zoo in the United States to use naturalistic enclosures instead of cages.  The animals roamed in open spaces, and we walked along wide walkways that followed the lay of the land and were bordered with tall trees and vegetation.

 

“Look, there’s Bert!  He’s out of the water,” Daughter-in-law said.  Bert is a 57-year-old hippopotamus, and he stood beside a large swimming hole.  I’ve seen many hippos’ heads, but not those enormous bodies.  Bert lumbered close to the edge of the water.  He put one foot in as if to test the water’s temperature.  Then his barrel-shaped body slowly, but not gracefully, entered the pool.  When the water splashed, we all laughed – even Neil.  Then all we could see were Bert’s eyes, tiny ears, and nostrils.

 

Among the trees of the Primate Panorama, white cloths the size of a sheets, hung on tree branches.  Cloth that looked out of place until we watched an adult orangutan, holding a baby in its arms, wrap the cloth around herself and the baby.

 

The wind continued.  I stood behind anything or anyone bigger than me to knock the 15-mile-an-hour wind out of my face, and I went inside every building even if I had to maneuver around fifteen baby strollers and didn’t know what animals were inside.

 

It was a perfect zoo trip.  This day really wasn’t about the animals or the weather.  It was about being with two of our Grands and their parents.  And holding hands.

 

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Filed under: Animals, Grandchildren, Zoo | Tagged: , , | Leave a comment »

Easter Egg Hunt

Posted on April 17, 2014 by susanrray

 

easter-egg-hunt-sign-13369720When I was a child, I was as eager to go to church on Easter Sunday as I was on Christmas Eve when Santa gave me a peppermint candy cane. I wore new clothes on Easter morning:  a pastel colored fancy dress, patent leather shoes, white socks with ruffles, and white gloves.  Mother made sure that my entire Easter outfit was brand new, but wearing new clothes wasn’t why I was excited.

 

On Easter at Byrdstown First Christian Church there was a big Easter Egg Hunt immediately after the preacher’s last amen. During the church service, several men hid eggs.  All hard-boiled eggs that church members had boiled, dyed, and decorated.  I didn’t hear a word of the service – not the hymns, prayers, scripture reading, or sermon.  During the long hour between 11:00 and noon, I squirmed and wiggled and stretched my neck to look out the open windows to see where Daddy was hiding the Easter eggs.

 

As soon as church was over, I grabbed my Easter basket from under the pew where Mother had put it so I couldn’t touch it during the service.  I ran out the church front door as quickly as I could.  I ran right past the preacher without shaking his hand. All of us children clutched the handles of our empty Easter baskets and lined up on the asphalt parking lot at the edge of grass.

 

On one side of the church, eggs lay on top of the grass in plain sight for the little kids to find, and the other side was divided into two sections for two age groups. Very few eggs were hidden for the teenagers because they were beyond hunting for eggs, but they were enticed to look for a prize egg.  Those of us in the elementary age group had the most eggs to find. We stood poised and ready, knowing that for every colored egg we could barely see there were many more hidden.   And when someone shouted, “Ready, set, GO!” we kids ran helter skelter gathering eggs that were hidden in tall tufts of grass, under shrubs, among the exposed roots of tall oak trees, and along a grown up fencerow.

 

We hunted until someone found the prize egg, a hard-boiled goose egg wrapped in gold paper, and the adults in charge declared that every egg had probably been found.   We children counted the number of eggs in our baskets because money prizes were given for the number of eggs found – the most eggs, the least, and none.  And the person in each age group who found the prize egg got a bright shiny silver dollar.  I found the prize egg only once—inside the downspout of the gutter.

 

I took home all the eggs that I found.  Eggs that other church members had boiled and dyed, and I hunted those eggs again in our backyard as many times as I could get my mother or daddy or brother to hide them.  There weren’t any prizes at home.  I hunted just for fun after I’d taken off my fancy new Easter clothes.

Filed under: Easter, Holidays | Tagged: , , | Leave a comment »

Easter Eggs

Posted on April 11, 2014 by susanrray

 

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Brown eggs don’t dye pretty colors like white eggs – except for purple.  Brown eggs dipped in purple water turn a beautiful dark wine color.  Most colors – yellow, green, blue – made brown eggs look like a clod of dirt.  Granny’s chickens laid brown eggs and Mom certainly never considered taking only wine colored eggs to the church Easter egg hunt.  That’s why, when I was a kid, Mom bought white eggs to color.

 

Each church family took colored eggs for the egg hunt.  On Saturday afternoon before Easter Mom boiled several dozen eggs – some white from the grocery store and some brown from Granny’s henhouse.  Mom and I, and my brother if Mom could rope him into helping, (teen-age boys think they’ve outgrown such childhood activities) colored each egg.  We used the Paas dye – tablets that dissolve in water.

 

Mom didn’t like plain one-color eggs.  We did half blue and half green eggs and tri-color eggs.  We’d color an egg all yellow and then dip each end in blue or red.  Using a paraffin pencil we’d draw designs that wouldn’t absorb color before dunking an egg in a color solution.  We decorated with glitter and sequins —anything to make an egg look fancy.

 

We colored a few brown eggs in red and purple liquid dyes and used crayons to draw designs on most.  Mom drew rabbits and simple flowers.  My favorite way to color brown eggs was with multi-colored stripes and zigzag lines and circles.  We spent what seemed like all afternoon sitting together at the kitchen table.

 

I dyed eggs with my children and now with my Grands.  Next week I’ll throw a plastic tablecloth over my kitchen table and bring out boiled eggs and coloring supplies.  The box of Paas dye hasn’t changed – except for the price – in 50 years.  And I’m glad.  There’s something magical about dropping a small colored tablet into three tablespoons of white vinegar and making brilliant colors, before diluting the solution with a half-cup of water.

 

And ever year, someone asks, “Why do you have to add the vinegar?”  Because the directions say to isn’t a good enough answer.  The vinegar creates an acid solution so that the colors bond with the calcium in the shell. And sometimes there’s more ‘why’ questions.

 

I know that plastic eggs are cheaper than real eggs and prizes or candy can be put inside each plastic one, but I like real Easter eggs.  The ones you boil and color.  And in the process, it’s a time to talk and laugh and create.  It’s not just about coloring eggs; it’s about the shared experience.

 

A few days ago, my seven-year-old Grand asked, “Gran, when are we going to color Easter eggs?”  I like that.  She didn’t ask, “Are we going to color Easter eggs?”   She asked, “When?”  Then she said, “I’m going to draw designs with crayons on some.”   Good, because I have some brown eggs to be colored and I don’t like Easter eggs that look like a dirt clods.

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Filed under: Grandchildren, Holidays | Tagged: , , | 1 Comment »

Final Four

Posted on April 3, 2014 by susanrray

Screen Shot 2014-04-03 at 9.05.07 AMNow there are four men’s teams and only three more games. I’m already feeling withdrawal and sad because this time next week the college basketball season will be finished, over, done. Some of you are saying, “Thank goodness!’ March Madness has almost been a round-the-clock reality TV show for the past two weeks. A reality show that I’ve recorded and watched and then read about in the newspaper. A reality show that will end when the players of the championship team cut down the net. “One Shining Moment” will be the background music for a video of the tournaments’ highlights. I’ll shed a tear or two.

I understand not everyone cut teeth on basketball gym bleachers as I did and not everyone cares about the Final Four. Maybe you have barely tolerated friends and family who’ve talked nonstop basketball. Maybe you’ve cheered for our OVC and Tennessee teams, and when those teams lost, you lost interest. This writing is for you.

Isn’t there something interesting besides the game score?  Some trivia? According to ESPN.go.com, the Florida Gators’ colors are orange and blue. Florida’s forward Jacob Kurtz used to be the team manager. He washed practice gear and handed out socks. From laundry boy to walk-on player to scholarship player.

The Connecticut Huskies wear blue and white. Connecticut, aka UConn, is the only university in the country that offers a Masters in the Puppet Arts.   UConn’s Shabazz Napier would play for Puerto Rico, his mother’s homeland, if that team gets into the 2016 Olympics. He could have quit college and played professionally, but he promised his mother that he would graduate. And on Mother’s Day, he will.

The Kentucky Wildcats’ color is blue. All of Kentucky’s starting players are freshmen. How does a coach teach 19 year-olds to share and play together? Kentucky has two great freshmen players who are identical twins, Andrew and Aaron Harrison. Imagine how proud their parents are. And a silly anagram for Kentucky Wildcats is “Twisty Dunk (cackle).”

The Wisconsin Badgers wear cardinal and white.  The school’s mascot name came from miners in the 1820s who dug like a badger. Without housing in winter, the miners burrowed into hillside tunnels. During the play of a game, watch 7 foot center Frank Kaminsky – he talks to himself. His teammates are sometimes distracted. Maybe his opponents, too.

Who? When? Where?   On Saturday night, Florida vs. Connecticut and Kentucky vs. Wisconsin. The winners play the championship game Monday night.   Arlington, Texas (close to Fort Worth) at the A T & T Stadium.

To make it through the next few days around us basketball fans, pretend to be interested. Pick a team, based on any criteria. A color or mascot. One of my Grands said he’s for Wisconsin because his daddy knows people who live there. I narrowed my choice to Florida and Kentucky because those schools are in the SEC (Southeastern Conference) – the same conference that the University of Tennessee is in. I’m going with Florida. Those Kentucky freshmen will get another chance.

And you should know that the women’s Final Four games will be played in Nashville, Music City USA, Sunday and Tuesday. I’ll be in a nosebleed seat. As I write, the women’s final four teams haven’t been determined, but I know my team is the one who plays UConn. I can’t tell you why here. Ask me and I will.

 

 

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