Gulf Coast A Mini Vacation
This past summer has been a stressful period for my wife, with the loss of her construction supervisor and a VISTA worker in August, and the hiring of replacements in both positions. Both are key positions and are vital to the success of the local Habitat affiliate. Emotionally speaking the loss of two employees was draining. While there’s always an excitement in hiring new people, it takes an emotional toll, also. Keith Thomas accepted the construction supervisor’s position left vacant by the departure of Brother Joe Steen and Patrick Mulvihill of Gulfport, Mississippi is the VISTA worker who replaced Ryan Fuoss. Both Keith and Patrick are quickly finding their respective niches in the organization, and their adaptability has made the employee transition a smooth one. In mid September, Barbara told me she wanted to take a few days off work, a mini vacation, if you will, and spend two or three nights on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. "Brother Joe won’t be there but a couple of months, and he’ll be leaving at the end of October, Barbara shared, "I’d like for us to visit him for a day to see how he’s doing and to tour some of the houses he’s helping construct in Biloxi and Gulfport." It seemed a good idea, and I agreed to the trip for the two of us. After checking motel rates on the Coast, I realized weekends were not a good time to stay somewhere if there are nearby casinos. Starting with Friday night and continuing through the weekend, the room rates more than double those of Monday thru Thursday. We began to plan for a middle of the week trip, but then a friend of Brother Joe’s died, and we altered our plans to accommodate his schedule. "He’s driving to Cincinnati for the funeral and will stay here in Pontotoc on Wednesday night before returning to Biloxi," Barbara shared. "I told him we could drive down together on Thursday." Earlier, we had discussed spending one day with Brother Joe, so as not to take him off the job site for too long, but by traveling together we would get to spend more time with him than previously thought. We ate lunch together in Meridian and then dined together Thursday evening in Ocean Springs, where Barbara and I had found a reasonably priced motel. Brother Joe visited with us for perhaps a half hour in our motel room after our arrival, before the three of us left to tour some modular homes that were donated to Habitat following Hurricane Katrina. Brother Joe explained that the homes arrive in two sections and are off-loaded to new foundations using a crane. Once in place, a work crew "marries" the two sections to complete the setup. Modular housing is slightly more expensive than comparably-sized, doublewide "trailers." Joe’s trained eye allowed him to point out a number of minor faults the inspectors missed in the assembly-line process, as well as a few examples of shoddy workmanship by the onsite finishers. But, all in all, the houses met the Habitat criteria of simple, decent, affordable housing. Plus, the lots had been landscaped, so the trees and flower beds gave the housing increased curb-appeal. For dinner that evening we chose an Applebee’s in Ocean Springs, or rather I did when no one else wanted to make a decision as we cruised a strip of eateries on Highway 90. Yet, having dealt with digestive disorders since lunch, I only ordered tea. My stomach was quiet, and I wanted to keep it that way. It turned out that the tea had a gone-bad taste, and I sent it back and asked for water with lemon. After a long day, we were pretty well spent by the time we left the restaurant, so Brother Joe left after supper to drive back to Volunteer Village in Biloxi, about eight miles away. Our plans were to meet him at the village the next morning. That night at the motel was the coldest night I’ve spent in a room, anywhere, this year…no this decade. The room was unpleasantly warm when we arrived that afternoon, and I asked Barbara to turn down the thermostat while we visited with Brother Joe. She must have turned it to its coldest setting, for I never heard the compressor cut off the whole night. Now that I think about it, I haven’t slept that cold since being caught in an all-electric apartment in Greenville during the ’94 ice storm. It was so cold in the room that my glasses fogged up as soon as I walked outside to go eat breakfast. I gave up on them clearing up by the time I reached the motel lobby and wiped the moisture off them with my handkerchief. To be continued…
Necklace Lost Barbara's Anniversary Gift My wife is understandably proud of the heart-shaped, diamond, journey necklace I gave her for our recent anniversary. It isn’t like me to make a decision to buy something personal for her, without first getting her input. That I was able to surprise her with the gift only makes it more dear to her, so dear, perhaps, that it has become her most treasured (though not most expensive) item in her jewelry box. I was at home Thursday afternoon by three-thirty after a business meeting in Columbus that morning. I was seated at my computer working on a gift-card quote for another retailer when Barbara showed up shortly after four o’clock. I glanced up from my work to greet her as she walked toward me, all the while wondering why she was home early. "Wayne," I’ve lost my necklace," she managed to speak before dissolving into tears. I stood to embrace her, as I’ve learned that hugs often serve such purposes far better than words. In the next moments, I learned the details of what had transpired. "I needed to go to the Post Office to check the mail, and when I reached for my purse on the floor, I saw the chain of my necklace protruding from under my purse. I pulled it, expecting to see the diamond pendant on the other end. But, when it was not there, my heart sank." Barbara shared how she and Patrick (VISTA worker) had search throughout the office looking for the necklace and had traced her entry route back to the car hoping to find the pendant along the way. She had come home early thinking the pendant might have fallen off, unnoticed, as she prepared to leave. A quick search turned up nothing, and we were still looking when Jason came in and asked what was going on. As Barbara filled him in, I backed my car out of the carport so we could check the area where Barbara would normally get into her car before leaving home. (I was borrowing the parking space to keep my car windshield dry in order to get the "spider" crack repaired the next day.) When Jason went outside to check inside Barbara’s car, Barbara went to the master bathroom to remove some clothing and be sure the pendant had not fallen inside her blouse. Both Barbara and I had earlier given the front seat of the car "the once over" and found nothing. I returned to my seat to save my work on the document on my computer, and Barbara had just returned from checking her clothing when Jason entered the room holding something in his extended hand. "Is this it?" he asked, smiling. Barbara was ecstatic, answering, "Yes!" She hugged Jason, and I joined them for a group hug. "Where did you find it?" I asked. "It was on the floor under the front passenger seat of the car below the armrest section," he shared. Barbara supposed it fell off the chain when she leaned over the armrest to put her purse on the floor of the passenger side and that the chain stayed in place until she got to her office. Thus concluded the search for the missing diamond pendant of Barbara’s journey necklace, but that’s not the end of the story. Two nights later, I was awaked by Barbara as she turned on the lamp on her side of the bed. I could tell she had been dreaming and probably wasn’t good awake, plus she wasn’t entirely coherent. Moments later she switched off the lamp, and I went back to sleep. The next morning she told me she had dreamed the necklace had slipped off as she slept, and she needed the light on to see if it had fallen in the floor. I hope her dream is not a sign of things to come, but if the necklace should be lost again, I won’t consider it the end of the world. Anyway, the day after the pendant slipped off the loosed chain, Barbara took the necklace to a local jeweler, who added a larger ring to the clasp which now prevents the pendant from sliding off either end of the chain.
Middle Child Merilese Adams Turns Ten Grandchildren are often defined by order. For example, the first of several grandchildren may transition from "my grandchild" to "my first grandchild" to "my oldest grandchild," where of course, child may be replaced with "son" or "daughter." In my case, I have three grandchildren, all granddaughters and all birthed by my daughter. So, it’s relatively easy to speak of my oldest granddaughter or my youngest granddaughter, but how should I define the other granddaughter? Should I say, "the one in the middle," or "my second granddaughter?" Being second in a family of four children, I know something about the importance that siblings sense regarding birth order. We middle children are often seen as having lesser importance than "the firstborn" or "the youngest." Fortunately, my siblings were spaced out over a span of twenty years, and with the exception of Sara Sue, all of us had plenty of time to experience being "the baby." The firstborn of us was the baby for six and one-half years, compared to my nine years of babyhood and that of Sara Sue’s four-plus years. In the case of the latter, I doubt a lifetime of babyhood would have sufficed, but it might have prevented her from thinking Mom loved James best because he was the baby. No doubt, my second granddaughter will struggle to accept her lot in life as having been born a "middle child," though I can’t imagine it being a cause for jealousy. My middle granddaughter, Merilese, who turned ten on October 13, planned her own birthday party this year. "I want to have a spend-the-night party at Nana’s house and invite a couple of my friends." she shared with her mother. Nana is Barbara, Merilese’s maternal grandmother. It was decided that the party needed to be the night before the birthday so that Anson could be there. He had plans to attend the Ole Miss/ Alabama game the day of Merilese’s birthday. Merilese also told her mother that she wanted rotisserie chicken for her birthday supper, because "Daa (that’s me) makes the best." "And, macaroni and cheese," Merilese shared in finalizing her dinner requests. It would fall Barbara’s lot to prepare the macaroni and cheese using a recipe of Rayanne’s. Since Merilese ate the homemade macaroni and cheese a few months ago, she hasn’t wanted any "out of the box," types such as Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. Merilese brought only one girl-friend to the party, but when heads were counted at mealtime there were eleven of us needing dinner plates. Anna, Merilese’s older sister made the birthday cake…er, cookie, complete with the birthday greeting, "Happy 10th Moo." (Merilese’s family nickname is Moo Moo.)
For Rayanne, the memorable moment may have been the sight of Merilese and Kaitlyn enjoying a bubble bath. The two girls took a bubble bath in our Jacuzzi with the circulating jets running and had bubbles past their eyeballs. Suds were spilling onto the floor when Rayanne discovered them and the two bathers had to take a shower to get all the suds washed off them. For Anna, she may remember Merilese’s birthday as her first attempt at making cake icing and decorating a cookie, or perhaps the self-relighting candles that failed to perform as expected. Apart from the birthday dinner, plans were made for everyone to go to a pottery place in Oxford, "The Clay Canvas." There persons can pick a piece of green pottery and paint it however one chooses and have it fired for a later pickup. I was not among those who went from my house to the pottery place, but I understand a good time was had by all. I had the dubious honor of attending the Mississippi State/ Tennessee football game in Starkville, that day…but that’s another story for another day.
Bodock Beau Boudreaux The Mortician
A man who just died is delivered to a Louisiana mortuary wearing an
expensive, expertly tailored, black suit. Boudreaux, the mortician,
asks the deceased's wife how she would like the body dressed. He
points out that the man does look very good in the black suit he
is already wearing. Contributed by Ralph Jones, Tennessee
Always Polite The young driver was speeding along when she looked over at her mother in the passenger seat. "Mother, am I driving too fast?" asked the daughter. "Of course not, dear," answered Mother, "but I am."
Source – Laugh Letter Newsletter September 2007 Copyright © 2000 - 2007 RRN Online.
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Barbara and I haven’t had
much in the way of a vacation for several years. Since she became the Executive
Director of Habitat for Humanity, it’s been difficult for her to schedule
a vacation; so like me, she takes a day or two here and there, rather than
blocking out a whole week.
Looking to the future, it’s
hard to say how memorable Merilese’s tenth birthday will be for her,
but I imagine it will be memorable to Kaitlyn, Merilese’s friend, as
it isn’t often only one child, a peer, is granted such a privilege to
be the guest of honor at someone’s party.
