Sarah Lynn's Nature's Splendor: Journal: Independence Day, etc.

A week and a half ago when I visited Loren, I showed him videos on Instagram of Victoria playing ‘Let Jesus Come into Your Heart’, and also our great-niece Jodie playing ‘Joybells Ringing in My Heart’ and a couple of other hymns.

Loren loved hearing those old songs, and he was pleased that the words were posted. He did a pretty good job of reading along, even though reading has gotten steadily harder for him. But old memories of familiar songs helped.

In the last three or four weeks, we’ve had rain... rain... and more rain. There is flooding in many areas around us. Last Tuesday, we had a high of 77°. During a lull in the rain, I filled the bird feeders and put the potted flowers back out on the front porch. We’d brought them in Monday night when a severe thunderstorm with high winds went through. That storm spawned a tornado in Lincoln a couple of hours later.

I mopped floors, tidied room, started laundry, and then headed upstairs to my sewing room.

By 1:00 a.m., the central and main part of the Hanging Gardens memory quilt for my late friend’s daughter Esther was all together.

Wednesday, July 3^rd, would have been my father’s 108^th birthday.

I spent the day quilting, until it was time for our evening church service. Here’s a shot of the clouds I took from the church parking lot immediately after the service.

Afterwards, we picked up a grocery order at Wal-Mart, which included things for our church picnic the next day, the Fourth of July.

As we drove home, we saw some of the town’s fireworks display. They started half an hour early in an effort to beat the rain that was coming.

We hurried home, opened the back hatch to haul in the groceries, all in a rush because it was about to start raining – and were quite surprised to find, not the two Crimson Sweet watermelons I thought I had ordered, but two watermelon plants in little pots, healthy and ready to be planted in the garden! So much for taking watermelon slices to the picnic. 😏

Thursday was Dorcas’ 42^nd birthday. We sent her a tube of EOS hand cream and a cannister of Teabloom fruit teas.

One time when she was little, having just turned 4 years old, we were heading home from our church picnic, wandering through the streets of town in order to see the many private fireworks displays here and there, and Dorcas sighed happily, “This is such a nice birthday! Everyone all over town is celebrating it — and they don’t even know me!!!” 😆

Here she is on that 4^th birthday, July 4, 1986.

Our contribution to the menu this year was hot dogs in Artesano sausage buns, potato salad, macaroni salad, blueberry streusel muffins, and five gallons of ice water. And no Crimson Sweet watermelon slices.

Rain was predicted here for the 4^th, and it did rain a little in the morning, and put a few drops on our windshield on our way to the picnic; but the day turned out bright and sunny, and only 70° at noon, getting to a high of 76° that afternoon, with a cooling breeze. It was one of the nicest Independence Days we’ve had in a long time.

When we arrived, a whole lot of the young men were playing patriotic tunes on their horns, with son-in-law Bobby leading them. They were in the new pavilion, which Larry helped build several months ago on our niece Christine’s property.

Larry and I went for a ride in this trolley all around the lake, with our great-nephew Joshua Walker (Christine and my late nephew

David’s youngest son) driving the tractor. Others rode in a wagon behind another tractor.

The children had the little barrel-car train to ride in that a friend built a few years ago; and another friend just built this cute little train, using a riding lawn mower motor in the ‘engine’.

Granddaughter Eva is in the last little barrel car (below), and great-nephew Bennet is in the first car behind the tractor.

After we ate, a game of volleyball started up on one side of the pavilion, and softball on the other. There were the little bouncy houses for the small children that we’ve had for a couple of years, and the tall swingset a friend built; but this year there was a big, new playset, too.

Several tried their hand at fishing in the lake, and one of my great-great-nephews snagged quite a big fish, but it got loose. And nope, I was not ready with the camera, when that fish leaped out of the water. 😑🥴

Below is my nephew Kelvin, fishing with some of his grandsons and great-nephews.

There was so much food! We brought home a whole lot of what we took.

“We’re going to be eating cheese-stuffed hot dogs in Artesano sausage buns, macaroni salad, potato salad, and blueberry muffins for days!” I told Larry. “Thank goodness I didn’t fix anything with sauerkraut; I’d hate to have days and days of that. (I’d hate to have one bite of that.)”

A little while after we got home, Victoria came and picked up some of her “many random belongings”, as she put it, most of which were stored in bins in the under-the-eaves cubbyhole in my little office. There were dolls, doll clothes, journals, books, and other things in those bins. Carolyn and Violet are going to be so delighted with her Madeline things, and her pretty dolls, and all their clothes.

Only five bins to go, and Victoria will finally have all her stuff! 😄

We helped her pull bins out of that cubbyhole, and Larry vacuumed off the dust. We slid one very heavy one out... Victoria lifted the lid – and, lo and behold, there were my lost albums that I’d hunted for, back when I was scanning all my old pictures! I never dreamed a bin of albums had gotten put in there with Victoria’s things! (And I refuse to take responsibility for it.) I’m so glad we found it.

Since she was here, and because she enjoys gardening, though her time is limited, I pawned off the watermelon plants on Victoria.

Watermelon need 65 to 100 days of growing time, depending on the variety; so there should be plenty of time to grow some nice watermelons. Victoria promised me a watermelon or two. 😊

Dorcas wrote to say she had received her birthday gifts from us. “We are having a day in the mountains from Tennessee to Virginia to Kentucky and back to Tennessee,” she wrote, and sent several pictures. “A lady saw me trying to take selfies of all of us, and offered to take our picture,” she said.

One time when we were in Yellowstone with Caleb and Victoria (the last trip with Caleb before he got married), a young man offered to take our picture at an overlook with Lower Falls in the background. He had a camera, himself, and he looked like a person who could take a picture.

Looks can be deceiving.

He took a picture of the sky, with the Falls in the middle, and our four little heads down at the bottom, just barely peeping up over the bottom edge of the photo.

Caleb lamented, “He didn’t like my shoes!” 🤣

Maria made Eva and Maisie matching strawberry-print dresses. Every time I aimed my camera at Eva , she said, “Cheeeeeeeze!”

After we got home, I began editing and labeling my pictures – 210 of them, plus 4 videos.

I wrote to ask a friend, probably for the umpteenth time, how to pronounce one of the young girls’ names.

This reminded me of my late nephew David, when he was about three years old: “Mama, I’m learnin’ to bebounce my words a yot bettah now, aren’t I?”

Not wanting to waste the overabundance of food we brought home from the picnic, I put quite a lot of it into the freezer so we wouldn’t scarf it all down too fast (or too slow, and wind up with spoiled food). Macaroni salad can be frozen for up to two weeks. Potato salad can be frozen, too; but it’s liable to turn mushy and discolored, so I left that bowl in the refrigerator for us to eat first.

The blueberry muffins went into the freezer, along with the cheese-filled hot dogs and Artesano buns, after I separated bun from hot dog.

I definitely took too much food. We all take what we would need for our families, and put it all on the long tables together, so there is a huge assortment of meats, vegetables, casseroles, fruit and vegetable salads, jellos, breads, pies, cakes, muffins, cookies, and all sorts of drinks. It works out really well. But I took enough for Larry and me and all of Teddy’s family besides!

Friday, I worked on the borders of the Hanging Gardens quilt. By the time I quit late that night, border #1 was sewn onto the quilt, and #2 was all put together and ready to be sewn on, unless I need a very narrow border between those two. I’ll let the measuring tape decide.

Saturday, Larry left early in the morning to go to Wichita to pick up a bucket for a skid loader.

I got ready to go visit my brother Loren. When I went out to rehang the bird feeders, it was starting to rain. I pulled up AccuWeather and learned that we were expecting heavy thunderstorms. However, Omaha would likely get only light rain later in the afternoon. I figured I should be able to walk into Prairie Meadows without getting drenched. I would take an umbrella, just in case.

I continued getting ready – and the weather reports continued getting worse. Soon they were saying that the thunderstorm that was approaching from the west had hail the size of ping pongs and tennis balls, 70-mph winds, and possible funnel clouds.

Then a real, honest-to-goodness tornado, complete with the aforementioned hail, was reported near Lexington (off to the west) moving southeast.

Meanwhile, an Eastern kingbird, a Red-winged blackbird, and a Northern cardinal were having a feud at the front-yard feeders. One of the hostas under those feeders is smushed right down flat to the ground from a raccoon or an opossum (or both) sitting on it while he gathered up spilled seeds. I found traces of both animals there.

I took another good look at the weather. Nothing threatening was happening around Omaha, nor was anything threatening expected there. In fact, it looked like it might very well be safer in Omaha than near Columbus, weatherwise. I poured coffee into my travel mugs, made another mug of iced raspberry tea, grabbed magazines for Loren, reached for my camera case – and Larry called.

He was just south of Council Bluffs, on his way home. He would arrive home about the same time I got to Prairie Meadows. I relayed weather information, and told him I was about to head out the door.

“As a storm chaser?” he asked. 😆

I found Loren napping on one of the loveseats in a lounge on the far side of the home. No one else was in the room. I greeted him and sat down, and he immediately awoke, and was ever so glad to see me. Made me really glad I’d decided the weather wasn’t bad enough to keep me away.

One of the National Geographic magazines I gave Loren had a story, along with many accompanying pictures, of wolves. He was quite pleased with that magazine.

A lady, probably a new resident of the home, wandered in and came to see what we were looking at, standing behind the loveseat so she could see the pictures in the magazine and also on my tablet, as I showed Loren photos various friends and relatives had posted on Instagram. She periodically told me, “You’re amazing!” and once or twice she patted my shoulder for emphasis.

I pointed at the wolves. “You like those pictures?” I asked.

“Yes,” she nodded, “but you’re amazing!”

Loren nodded his agreement. “Yes!” he said.

I’m not sure what I did to merit such laud and honor, so I’ll probably never be able to duplicate it; but I smiled at her and said, “Thanks!”

The lady was dressed in a very pretty white and blue flannel nightgown, with narrow tucks and lace on the front, and she had on navy slipper socks. I wondered if she, thinking it was bedtime rather than dinnertime, had gotten herself ready for bed.

Loren’s Word of the Day was ‘cheery’. I showed him pictures of various ones of our grandchildren. “These are sweet, cheery children,” he said. “I think their parents make sure their home is cheery.”

I showed him pictures of the quilt I am making for Esther.

“That’s good,” he told me, “to do things to make people more cheery.”

When a nurse – Loren’s favorite, a lady who must be approaching retirement age, but is without doubt one of the busiest and hardest-working nurses there – came to get Loren for dinner, it took both of us to pull him up from the loveseat and get him onto his feet. Well, truth to tell, she probably could have done it all by herself, as she’s tall, seems strong, and I’d guess she weighs 20-30 pounds more than Loren does. But I like to think I helped at least a little bit. 😉

Mrs. Nightgown looked on, giving a triumphal bob of the head and a grin once Loren was safely standing upright.

I made sure he was steady and the nurse had a good grip on him, then told him goodbye, and promised to drop off the magazines in his room on my way out. He thanked me, then added, “Drive carefully!”

I headed out the door. Mrs. Nightgown dogged every step I took.

I wondered what would happen if she decided to go into Loren’s room when I got to it, exploring and helping herself to things. Or what if she decided to try coming with me out the commons exit and into the front lobby?

I grinned at her and said, “Goodbye, I’ll see you another time!”

Then I kicked in the afterburner and strode off at a fast clip, just under a jog.

She grinned back, gathered herself together, and jogged nearly right alongside me. “It’s really (huff, puff) good,” she told me, breathing hard, “to get in (huff, puff) some good exercise now and then (huff, puff)!”

She seemed totally steady on her feet, all spry and nimble. Had she not, I would have immediately slowed down.

I sped up even more, cut left to Loren’s door, speed-entered the code, and dodged inside, looking back at the woman, who had paused right outside the door and was looking hard at me. Her expression clearly said, Hey! You tryin’ to pull a fast one on me?!

I gave a little wave. “I’ll be right back!” I shut the door quickly behind me, walked to the bed, and laid the magazines down where I knew Loren would see them.

Then back to the door I went, and pulled it open. Mrs. Nightgown awaited.

“Here I am again!” I said merrily, and she laughed.

We headed toward the nurses’ station. On the other side of it was the exit.

I sped up. So did she. I didn’t dare go much faster, for the hallway and the commons were filling with people who were waiting for the doors to the dining room to open, and those people have a tendency to dodge right out in front of a person.

One of the nurses, seeing what was happening, saved the day by marching straight in front of us and totally distracting Mrs. Nightgown.

I escaped.

It started raining when I reached the west side of Omaha, and continued, though not too heavy, most of the way home. Look at this cloud I encountered near Wahoo. Little tendrils kept tumbling out of it, trying to decide which direction to travel, and then going back up into the cloud or feathering out entirely. You’d better believe I kept a close watch on that thing, gauging its distance from the ground, my general trajectory, and the distances between exits.

Since it was sporadically moving northeast, and I was heading northwest, it wasn’t too awfully long before I’d passed under it and left it behind.

I got home at about 6:00 p.m. There were only a few raindrops coming down by then, and I made it into the house without getting very damp at all.

After supper, I decided to make us smoothies with Kemp’s vanilla ice cream and some frozen fruit. Along with the ice cream and the fruit, I poured a little bit of milk into the blender to help it mix better, and hit the ON button, starting with the setting on ‘Chop’.

“ROAR CRUNCH CLATTER TINK TINK,” said the blender before speeding up to a high-pitched “WHIRRRRREEEEEE!!”

I knew what that meant: it was the end of the line for the blender coupler, that piece connected to the motor on which the glass container sits, and which makes the agitator blades go around.

I stopped it and lifted the pitcher – and sure enough, there sat the coupler, or what was left of it. It was now nothing but crumbled bits and pieces of brittle plastic.

Larry, mourning the smoothie that had not come to fruition, said without much consideration of the matter at all, “I’ll go get a new blender,” and off he went.

I put the pitcher full of ice cream, fruit, and milk into the refrigerator to await his return.

I waited... and waited... and waited... and then waited some more. I figured he had gone to Wal-Mart, which is on the far east side of town, while we are 7 miles west of town. It takes about 13 minutes to get there, provided you hit both of the parkway stoplights on green.

Well over an hour later, I began texting ‘Where are you’ when there he was, walking down the front sidewalk toward the door, a large box tucked under one arm.

He came in, put the box on the table. ‘Toastmaster’, it said on the side of the box. It also sported this picture of a 450-watt blender. The blender in the box was only 350-watt. Larry took the blender out of the box. I reached over and picked up the pitcher.

“It’s plastic,” I said.

I lifted the motor part of the blender. It weighed approximately the same as a juvenile hummingbird.

My KitchenAid blender, on the other hand, has a heavy glass container, and the motor base is also quite heavy.

“This is cheap junk,” I informed Larry. “Where did you get it?”

He, as Larrys are oft wont to do, launched into a story about his Great Search for A Blender, saving the answer to the question for last.

He had tried two or three businesses on the west side of town, including Bomgaars, that store that sells livestock feed, mowers, tools, lawn sprinklers, BlueDEF diesel exhaust fluid, and whatnot.

“Bomgaars!” I exclaimed. “Did you try Wal-Mart?!”

Undaunted, he continued with his story. “All I could find were those little personal-sized blenders,” he told me.

“Even at Wal-Mart?!!” I demanded.

The tale went on. He will not be rushed, whilst in the midst of a good saga.

Dollar General was his final choice. Again, he found only those small, cheap, ‘personal-sized’ blenders on the shelf. He gave up and headed toward the door – and spotted boxes of Toastmaster blenders on the shelf directly over that door.

He requested one, paid for it ($20), and triumphantly brought it home.

He helped me transfer ice cream, fruit, and milk from the heavy glass pitcher into the cheap plastic one. We set it on the base and turned it on.

It made alarming grating noises, but the stuff in the container began to turn. Slowly. The grating, grinding, rasping noises continued. I tried slower settings, then faster settings, trying to choose one that didn’t make the motor sound like it was being taxed beyond its strength.

And then it didn’t just sound overtaxed, it smelled overtaxed.

I switched it off, let it rest momentarily, and tried again.

The smoothie wasn’t really smooth when the thing abruptly and unceremoniously quit, never to turn on again; and it reeked of TMH (Too Much Hotness).

I washed the thing out and let it dry while we weeded our way through our not-quite-smoothies. The pomegranate seeds were still whole, for the most part. The stuff tasted good, though, so we carried on, sometimes painfully, in Larry’s case, when seeds got under his dentures.

By the time we were done, the container and its parts were dry. We packed it back into the box to return for a refund the next day. There’s no possible way this blender could’ve blended the things shown in the picture on the box.

I pulled up Amazon, plugged in the serial number on the KitchenAid, and ordered two blender couplers plus the wrench with which to install them for $7.99. They’ll be here tomorrow, and then we’ll try another smoothie.

I sent this picture to Larry’s sister Rhonda, captioning it, “Your little brothers.” Larry is on the left; Kenny is on the right.

Sunday evening, the skies looked stormy on our way to church. I took this picture toward the west at the bottom of the hill on Old Highway 81. I didn’t know it until they got closer, but in the oncoming vehicle were friends of ours, also on their way to church.

We got a little bit of rain from that storm front while we were in church. Thunder rumbled and rolled during the first part of the service, but the majority of the storm passed to the north.

Later, Victoria got this picture of a double rainbow in the east.

It was 61° at 8:30 this morning, on its way up to 80°, bright and sunny, and, for once, there was hardly any wind. I was getting ready to take four quilts, three pillows, and the little fabric book to the County Fair. Larry put my red canvas wagon into the Mercedes last night. That wagon is a back-saver!

I filled the bird feeders, watered the indoor plants, and played the piano while the coffee brewed. Soon I was sipping Michigan Cherry coffee while blow-drying and curling my hair. I had raisin, walnut, and date oatmeal for breakfast, and then off I went to Ag Park, where the Platte County Fair will be held.

I sure hope Keira’s quilt gets a ribbon; she’s certain it will, and will be so disappointed if it doesn’t!

For an afternoon snack, I had a handful of strawberries. I love fresh fruit. It’s just about my favorite part of the food pyramid (though I’m mighty fond of the grains section, too).

Hannah wasn’t feeling well last week, and then got a couple of spots on one arm that looked a little bit like a rash from poison ivy. By Saturday, she had a fever, and was pretty sure she had shingles. That was verified today at the doctor’s office.

Here’s a young raccoon who was exploring in our back yard this evening. He was really not much concerned at all that I was on the deck taking pictures of him.