Friday, January 11, 2019

Did I mention a little snake?

I'll try to be brief, Dear Reader:  The very first evening spent at Hills Creek State Park, the four of us (our friends Tom and Tina, Yard Man and I) went out for a drive to explore the park a bit.   The Yard Man had offered our car, so he was in the driver's seat.  We were circling the lake and admiring it when he rather abruptly decided to steer off the paved road.  He barrelled down onto a tiny beach-like spot beside the water.  Clunk-clunk! Some foreign object contacted with the bottom of the car.   Yikes.  The noise did not sound pleasant or hopeful.   It continued as he backed out and returned the car to the paved road. Something, it seemed,  was drooping or dragging or knocked out of place!

The sun was setting and we were about ready to end the drive, anyway.  As we proceeded back to the cabin, the noise was a bit sporadic.  Sometimes it didn't sound too bad, and then I would think the little snake in Eden might just slither away.   We could ride around in Tom and Tina's car during the rest of our two-night stay and then gently drive our car home and find a garage.

But, then, the scraping, rattly noise would be too awful. "There's no way!" I said to the Yard Man.  "We absolutely can't drive all the way home with this situation!  Tomorrow we'll have to find a garage!"

Find a garage?!  Reader Dear, "googling" might as well have still been a silly, baby word!  And there wasn't even a yellow-paged phone book in that cabin.

However,  I put the problem out of my mind, along with the past hundred or so years of problems.    Que sera, sera. 

We had a lovely evening in the cabin.

When the sun came up again, it was Sunday morning.  Veteran's Day weekend.  In a tiny mountain town.  The four of us took two cars to the Wellsboro Diner to have breakfast; one of the cars was making an unbearable noise.

Whatever were the odds that we'd actually find a garage to work on that car today?!  Would we have to dedicate a large chunk of this one solitary full day of our two-night stay searching for a fix?

We asked our waitress if she might know of a garage.
She told us she'd ask around back in the kitchen.

Once again, I'll try to keep the story short and sweet.

Sweet:  Hallelujah, at the last minute, just before we left the diner, a waitress who had just arrived to start her shift came to tell us about her brother-in-law.

"He works on cars.  He's got a garage at his house and it's not far away.  I'm sure he's there working right now.  I'll give him a call!"

Sweet: This man was so pleasant and accommodating.  We left our car at his place, rode off with Tom and Tina.  We came back a few hours later; it was fixed*.  The price to repair? Twenty-five dollars.

Short:  I could go on and on about how the serendipity of getting this repair so quickly and easily banished the snake, and even enhanced the day.  But I promised "short."

Ergo, The End!


*It was an under-body shield of some sort.  Made of plastic.  This car-man reattached it with  some kind of plastic strips.  At last report (months later) still functioning well.  (Wow)

Tuesday, January 8, 2019

"So," she told me,

"it's about time you say farewell to Lewes already, and tell us about your Christmas!"

Since SHE is my big sis, I have to act on the order, Reader Dear; wouldn't you agree?

First, however, before jumping over all that time and trees and tinsel, I have to tell you about a tiny, two-night vacation I took with the Yard Man and two of our friends, Tom and Tina.  This little vacation (well in advance of Christmas) was at lovely Hills Creek State Park near Wellsboro, Pennsylvania.

Tom and Tina had rented a cabin at the park and invited us to join them.

Let me say, Reader Dear, right up front: It was the best two-night-stay vacation I've had for years (perhaps ever!)  Interspersed with the photos, showing proof that this state park displays nature at its finest, I'll list my reasons why the little get-away got such a high rating in my book!

1.  It was at the invitation of dear friends, who hosted us (including meals!) and with whom we got to spend most of our time.

2.  There was no phone service, no wi-fi connection, no television! 

3.  The destination was a not-so-far-away spot, entailing no more than five or six hours  for the entire going and coming back.

4.  The weather was cooperative.  At least half the time was fit for enjoying nature, being  outside the cabin, hiking, going to view the beautiful canyon.    The other half (included rain, high wind, chilly temps and overnight snow) simply enhanced the time indoors playing games, reading, visiting, eating, laughing.

This, Viewer Dear, is a BLACK SQUIRREL! (All caps denoting my excitement, as I've never seen one previous to this sighting!)

On both nights of this two-night vacation, I went to bed and tried to pretend that I was living in the eighteen-hundreds (please read again Number Two on my list, Reader Dear).  In the cabin we had electricity, of course, to keep us warm and cook our food.  We had running water.  I tried to put technology and all other modern inventions out of my mind.  I ignored the small radio in a corner of the cabin.  I imagined that there was a horse-drawn wagon outside the door to get us home*.  I tried not to think about the possibility of a tenant with an extreme emergency.  I was so happy to live, albeit briefly, with no knowledge of the outside world.

Far from the madding crowd.

It was blissful!

*When a tiny snake entered Eden and our transportation home was put into jeopardy, I started re-thinking the horse-and-wagon trek; it didn't seem all that idyllic after all.

....To be continued. 

Wednesday, November 7, 2018

Goodbye to Lewes

It's always difficult to say Goodbye

Goodbye to good times at the beach!

Goodbye to finding treasures at the beach!

Goodbye to the historic little town.

Goodbye to walks in the historic little town.
Goodbye to (the surprise of) new toys from the sidewalk sales in the historic little town!

Goodbye to Cape Henlopen State Park (nearby to the historic little town)!


Tuesday, November 6, 2018

He was right there,

walking slowly through the water, searching for treasure while I watched from the ocean shore at Lewes,  Delaware.


I was fascinated, Reader Dear!  I was so curious that I went out into the water to ask questions of this treasure-seeker!

He was using an under-water metal detector.  I asked him what he had just found (It was a quarter). I asked him how long he had pursued this hobby (He's been doing it about a dozen years, he said). I asked him what was the most valuable thing he had ever discovered (It was a pendant with an emerald [His son wears it now, he told me]).

I returned to the shore and watched this explorer and contemplated how all of life is a big treasure-seeking endeavor.

I determined, Dear One, that the next time I am at the ocean, I will have one of these  specific kind of treasure-seeking devices in my hand*!

Stay tuned!
*I'm thinking of all those lockets and pendants and  coins that went down with the Titanic.  Think how they shift around on the ocean floor, Reader Dear!

Sunday, November 4, 2018

Prior to my trip to Lewes,

I made a trip to the thrift store.  It's a frequent activity of mine, hauling odds and ends to this place that welcomes the "stuff" that no longer feels welcome in my possession.  It's odd, Reader Dear, how I never seem to run out of this "stuff".
After I had carried my filled bags and boxes into the donation area, I parked my car and walked around to the front entrance of the store.

Now, I usually preach myself a little sermon when I drop things off at the store, and today was no exception.  "Dropping things off is only half the equation, you know," I told myself.  "This place would not be able to function if persons only donated and no one ever went into the store to shop. Go on in!  It won't hurt to look around.  If you find anything to buy, you can keep this loop of donations going."

During this particular trip that I'm telling you about, Dear Reader, it wasn't until I had perused most of the store before something caught my eye.  It was in the far back of the store--the toy section-- that I saw it:  a big see-through zippered bag filled with brightly-colored plastic balls.  So many balls!  I was attracted by the sheer quantity. The price tag said four dollars.
The price was right!
The timing was right!
I walked out of that store with eighty-nine brightly-colored plastic balls*!

My plan was to carry these balls along to Lewes and surprise all my little actors with them.
I'll just tell you right away, Dear Reader, the plan was a good one.
It was a success!

It's hard to say who had the most fun--me doing the presentation, or all the small ones scooping up the balls rolling everywhere and sending them flying around the room.

The following morning, the actors and I re-did the scene for filming.  However, the element of surprise was missing.  Please understand, Viewer Dear, though my actors are terrific at what they do, the glee and delight of that very first dumping of the balls was too difficult to re-create.  In the original, there were lots of shouts of surprise and exultation, missing from this short show. You'll have to use your imagination.


*Counted after purchase.