Nothing Says It

Reading the article, in the county paper from back home, about the morel mushrooms made us kind of homesick.  

We tried to remember exactly when was last time that we had a good 'mess' of shrooms, but neither of us could come up with a date.  We just knew for sure, it had been awhile.  

Shortly after reading the article, I was having a conversation with the youngest of our brood and mentioned our lack of mushroominess.  She and her family had found a few on their land, but most were very small.  We discussed  how cool it would be if she found some and mailed them to her dad for his birthday.  A couple of days later, she sent me a picture of what she had found. Now, the question was, how to get them from there to here.

Whenever in doubt, Google is a good place to start.  She did just that and sent me a message that the mushrooms were en-route and that the shipping method could only guarantee two days at the minimum.  She was shocked when I sent her a picture, the very next day, of the box of mushrooms sitting on my kitchen counter.  
It had arrived at the club house and one of the managers had let me know that I had a package waiting.  I walked down to the club house later in the day and Miss Stephanie had the box in her office.  I rarely use anyone's true name, but Miss Stephanie (her true name) is the epitome of a real Southern Belle and it would not do her justice to use any other name than her own.  We chatted about the day and then I asked her if she would like to see what was in the box.  She looked at me, smiled and said in her beautiful southern drawl, "Usually when there's a hole in the box, there's something alive in there."   

I laughed and proceeded to open the box.  Our daughter had done a fine job of packing the morels, complete with whatever forest matter was still clinging to them, in layers of shredded newspaper, along with a hole in the side of the box for ventilation.  I reached into the box and pulled one of the specimens out and held it up for Miss Stephanie to examine.  She wrinkled up her nose and asked what it was.  I told her of the wooded delicacy, how they only grew at certain times of the year and in certain places, but I do not think she was buying any of my story. 

On the way back to the apartment, with my box of edible gold tucked under my arm, I thought about Miss Stephanie's comment. Perhaps that was the reason the box arrived so quickly, "........a hole in the box, there's something alive in there."  Whatever the reason, nothing says "love you Daddy" like a box of fungi from home.

Coming & Going

The last four months have gone by so quickly and in such a blur I'm never quite sure exactly where I am.  I have to stop and check my bearings before I try to go somewhere in the vehicle.  It is nothing like Atlanta, Georgia traffic here, but no one likes to wait on the lady in the little black truck, to make up her mind as to which way she is turning, when the light turns green.   

Just the other day, I was talking about an episode that I was sure had happened in the peach state.  My young friend, Jazzie, smiled at me and reminded me that it had actually happened here, in North Carolina, right after we had arrived.  So, not only am I confused as to my whereabouts, I'm repeating myself.  

One thing is for sure though, I at least know what day of the week it is.....as long as it is Monday or Tuesday.  The trash pick-up is always on Monday, and the landscaping people always mow on Tuesday, rain or shine.  After that, it's anyone's guess as to the day of the week.  

I have yet to venture to one of my favorite grocery stores.  I have thought about it a lot, laying in bed in the wee morning hours, imagining driving the once familiar streets.  I figure if I do that enough, I will be able to make the trip without the panic of wondering if I turned right when it should have been a left.  

It has been said that it takes twenty one days to make or break a habit.  I guess that is true and possibly in another week or so, I will remember which light switch turns on which light.  The first learned new habit was a quick one and concerned the front door.  It is in the wall to our right, as we leave our humble abode, but directly in front of whoever is walking towards the front door, is a closet door.  It did not take too long to realize that opening the closet door did not get me to my destination, but it sure is fun to watch other people do it.  I really had to stifle my amusement when the internet guy nearly walked into the closet before he got himself slowed down.  I assured him he was not the first, nor would he be the last.

All the boxes have been unpacked and the only things that are still missing in action are two of Runtly's , the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, toys.  I know they are somewhere and will surely run across them in some mysteriously strange place.  When I do, I will most likely think, "How on earth did they end up in here?" Hopefully, that will happen the next time I meet myself coming and going. 

Another Example

A few weeks ago, I wrote an article about all of our electronic gadgets, that we believe we cannot live without, being able to "listen" to us.  The main focus of this line of thought went out to the new gadget call Echo.  Echo sits in your house, office, whatever and whenever one finds themselves in a quandary about some subject, all one has to do is to speak out loud, to Echo and it will answer your question....back at you....in a human sounding voice.
The article went on to explain that a young lady had merely been sitting in her home, having a conversation with a friend, about a subject she had not searched online.  The next time she would get online, advertisements for the very subject she had talked about, in the privacy of her own home, would show up on whatever page she would access online.  This young lady was the proud owner of an Echo.

I love a good conspiracy theory and I do wear the tin foil hat from time to time, actually more often than not, but people really need to pay attention to just what is going on.  When we allow ourselves, our lives, our private moments, to be accessed 24/7 by the "eye in the sky", what in actuality are we really giving up?  Why is it necessary to gather all this information about people?  Where does all this info and data go?  Who has it?  What are they doing with it? Is it all just for advertising and going to the next level for a company to get us to buy their product at all costs?  Or could it be for another reason?  Could it be for control?  It is always easier to control the masses when the power knows exactly what the masses are doing.

I shared my theory with a friend and he recalled a movie he had watched.  He said there were two drug dealers having a meeting.  Before either spoke a word, they took their cell phones and put them into a metal drawer in a tool chest, then they started their motorcycles, next to the tool chest, and let them run.  All this to make sure that their business deal was not heard by anyone or any thing.

I've read that the movies we watch are how we are entrained to believe certain things.  For instance, I watched a short video the other day about microchip implants for humans.  These devices allowed the implantee to have easier access to their place of employment.  No longer would they need a key to open the door or a shared printer, these tasks could be accomplished with the wave of a hand.  The list of benefits from these implants went on and on, but what really shocked me was the statement made by one young woman very eager to get her chip.  She said that she had seen this idea played out in the movies so many times that she was conditioned to believe it was OK........

Once again, I will close with a true, short story.  Our two youngest daughters rented a car and came south to help us with our recent move.  The rental car needed to be dropped off in St. Louis, Missouri when they were done with it.  Our oldest son in law picked the girls up in St. Louis and as they were leaving the city, they passed a large billboard for an insurance company and it sported a picture of the agent, in need of business.  The agent's name was there, in large letters and as they sped past the sign, they said something silly like, "Hello John Smith!"  The next day, when one daughter was at work, she turned on her computer and there in the advertisement section was an ad for the very same insurance man..........they all had their cell phones with them and naturally they were turned on, but none of them were on their phones at the time....

Believe what you want, but my tinfoil hat may become a fashion statement before too long. 

Light As Air, Sharp As a Knife

It has happened again.  Something we did not really plan on, but who was it that said, "the best laid plans of mice and men"?  Our stint in Georgia has come to an end and we have found ourselves back in North Carolina.  We were standing at a crossroads, wondering just which way we should turn.  Then, like the saying, "when one door closes, another opens", so it did.  A job offer, too sweet to pass up, in exactly the same location we had spent the last year in....Raleigh, NC.

For folks who stayed in the same place for nearly six decades, we have moved five times in a years' time.  It has been quite an adventure, the gypsy life, but now we are home.  As I walked Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, down the familiar streets, the warm spring breeze in my face, I suddenly realized I had not felt this content in a long, long time.  Yes, we had come home.

Having arrived before our permanent apartment was ready, we stayed in a temporary one.  Taking in only the bare minimal essentials needed to survive, so as not to unload everything and then move it all again, we ended up with a couple of chairs, the dog, paper and plastic dinner ware and our clothes.  We had an unexpected surprise when our two youngest daughters showed up to help and there were lots of air mattresses spread out across the floor.  

Sleeping on an air mattress, on the floor, is a real treat.  Especially if the mattress tends to lose air during the nighttime hours.  This was extremely noticeable when I dove into my side of the mattress and launched my husband and the dog straight up in the air. Getting out of one is equally fun and after flailing like a beached whale, I literally crawled across the floor, to grab the doorknob so I could pull myself up.  

In the kitchen, I discovered it was impossible to slice an onion and tomato with a plastic knife.  Off to the store I went and purchased a four pack of knives with brightly colored handles.  I justified this purchase by thinking it is always handy to have a couple of extra knives in the drawer.  The knives where packaged in a hard bubble wrap plastic container.  I laid them on the counter, and tried to will them out, but that did not work.  I needed a knife to cut the packaging on the new knives, but if I had had a knife, I would not have needed to buy knives that I could not open because I did not have any knives.....I felt like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day.  Later, when my husband returned from his first day on the new job, he saved the day with his pocketknife.

Another adventure, another journey.....such is life.  We should all look at it that way.