The Dearest Of Friends

 I took this picture of Lis yesterday as we were leaving the studio of a luthier friend of hers who made Lis an octave mandolin some years ago but who had the instrument to make some improvements on it and to use as a demonstration of her work. It is a beautiful instrument. Her name is Rose. The mandolin, not the luthier whose name is Debra. 
I love that picture. The live oak in front of that pretty stucco house with the tidy yard- it's just so emblematic of old Tallahassee in some ways. Debra's studio and that little house are across the street from what is called Lake Ella in Tallahassee even though it is actually more of a large pond but it's been right there for many, many years, a place for people to bring their kids to play by the water and feed the ducks, bring picnics, or walk around the perimeter for health or relaxation. 

There used to a motor court by the lake called, Lake Ella Motor Court, of course. 

The buildings are still there, now repurposed as cute little shops. 

Debra grew up in the house her studio is in now and I so wish I had had the courage to ask if I could take a picture of her in that shop, surrounded by her tools and stringed instrument parts and work tables and instruments she's working on, instruments she's finished. I am shy around her though. She never remembers me but I remember her from when she was the partner of a midwife I worked with at the Birth Centre, back when Lily was a toddler. She was then the Tallahassee fire chief and yes, I was intimidated. And of course I remember her.

Lis and I had a fine day yesterday. The boys took off for some Tom dealings. Glen had an appointment with the attorney and then he and Lon went out to Tom's so that Lon could look at some of the guitars Tom had stashed in one of his several sheds to give him an idea of their possible value. I hear that was a rather traumatic experience. 
Can you say hoarder? 
And when I say hoarder, I do not mean someone who has too many tea towels or tablecloths stuffed in a closet. No. I mean the sort of hoarder whose things, when explored after their death, leave one in desperate need of a shower and a good, hot, sterilization of the clothing worn. 
Enough of that. 

Before Lis and I went to Debra's, we met Hank and Rachel, Anna, Taylor, May and Michael at the Indian buffet for lunch. Mark made a quick appearance but could not stay to eat. Hank made me laugh so much, telling stories about what a wacko mother I had been. And oh, seeing Anna and Taylor was just a joy. And May and Michael too. Hank was on Cloud Nine, it being the day before his grand fete was to begin. He was bubbling with the joy of it. So much so that both Lis and I had the same thought this morning which was that we should go to the place the whole group was meeting up to head down to the coast just to wish them well and give them a fond farewell. 
Okay, so Lis actually thought about the fact that we should have made them a cake which never crossed my mind but Lis is a much better human than I am as well as a far superior cake baker.
Anyway, after the lunch and visit to Debra's we got coffee at a little place on the lake and then we went to a thrift store which was close by. I didn't buy a thing but Lis bought a few tiny things that she can use in her hat making. And if all that weren't enough, we went to Publix to pick up things for supper. She wanted to make chicken enchiladas and I am so glad she did. They were delicious! And the supper the night before had been pretty darn good too. A lot of stuff out of the garden and the Gulf. As Glen said, he'd never seen four such big plates of food devoured so quickly. 
Jessie's childhood best friend (and starter husband), said once about biscuits, "I hog them down." This came to mind as we did indeed hog that down. 
This morning they packed up and we all went to Waffle House for our ritual last-morning breakfast. There were eggs and a waffle and raisin toast and bacon and sausage and grits and hash browns, all perfectly seasoned with Waffle House's very own special grease and plenty of salt. 
You can't beat it! 
Today is Lis and Lon's 47th wedding anniversary so they were ready to get home and have their own celebration. It was hard to see them go but I was so glad to have been able to spend time with them. It had been way too long but as it always with good friends, it's like no time has passed when you come back together, no matter how long it's been. 

And today I have been a lazy sloth. You know how unused to socializing I am and I have needed a recharge. I picked some peas, I put my puzzle back in the dining room and worked on that for awhile. I caught up on blogs (mostly) and then I shelled peas. I have GOT to let these peas get bigger before I pick them. I know, I know. I keep saying this but it is so true. 
You see this?

That represents about two hours of pea shelling. I am not kidding you. And yes, if you buy them at a farmer's market, you're going to be paying about five thousand dollars a quart but that pitiful less-than-half-a-quart is ridiculous. I have to let them mature more which makes the shelling easier and the peas bigger. I am talking to myself here. I know that no one reading this needs to know this information. 

I think Glen's going to head over to the cabin tomorrow and I've got pottery. I shall be interested to see if my leaf platter has been fired and if my fish bowl is dry enough to be put on the shelf to go into the kiln. We have gotten rain on and off. It stormed nicely yesterday but today has been mostly all threat and no real rain but everything looks so very green and it's a little cooler so I'm not complaining. 
Here's what my tabasco peppers are doing right now.

As you can see there on the right, the Seminole pumpkin is threatening to swallow them as it has swallowed some of the field peas and yet, still, not a bloom one. 
Ah well. I am enjoying the very essence of their vitality in just those beautiful vining leaves. Still, I would not mind getting a pumpkin or two out of the deal. 
The crows are still returning every day. They are now aware that they don't need to caw at me to get me to come out and sprinkle their meal worms on the stumps. I am at their service. 
Here's Maurice, trying to pretend that it's me she loves while we both know she was just reminding me to get up and give her her morning Temptations. 

She has not changed her evil ways in the least. She bit me this morning on the hand. I will admit I yelled at her. Loudly. I should be commended for not smacking her too. 
Sigh. I must tell you that I offered Maurice to Lis and Lon to take home if they wanted because obviously, that would make her happy. Sadly, they assured me that no, they really weren't interested. They made some excuse like how being "pet free" suited them now but I am afraid that even with her obvious affection for Lis, they have not been charmed nearly enough for that. 

And so it goes. It was wonderful having the Williamsons here and now life goes on as it does. The Hank is Fifty crew has gotten to their house and it would appear that all is well. I am hoping they have the very, very best time. I think they will. 
I wonder what Hank's next big project will be. 
I am sure that Rachel is wondering the same thing. 

Life is funny, isn't it? We all have such different needs and such different things make us happy. Some of us long for travel in foreign lands, some of us for projects that require our time and energy and love, some of us are pretty darn content to sit on the back porch and listen to the cicadas and the frogs beginning to tune up for their evening song, wondering how long it will take for our peas to swell up to the perfect size to pick. 

Be well, y'all. Cherish all the love that comes your way, notice and appreciate the littlest things, laugh at whatever you can find to laugh at, and oh, you know- look up. 

Love...Ms. Moon