My Finest Hour

 When we were in Charleston last weekend, my father was concerned about getting his boat moved; he's hoping to sell it soon, but he's unable to drive his truck right now, and my stepmom cannot drive it because it is so souped-up that the transmission is unbelievably touchy, and you have to engage *every muscle* in your left leg and back to change gears.  And you better hope your leg is really long.  Backing the truck up to the boat in order to hitch them together was simply a task too daunting for them--and as anyone with manual transmission experience knows, you've got to be awfully responsive on the clutch to get a large truck backed up without stalling out.  

My father consented to allow my husband to try this task, and my husband essentially took one look at it and gladly handed the job to me. Thanks to my father, I've got a lot of experience driving manual transmissions, including trucks with a lot of torque. 

Well!  I backed this Ford F-350 up *perfectly* to hitch it to the boat trailer, and it was a true Moment of Triumph for me.  In spite of the touchy clutch, gears that don't want to be found, and more torque than I've ever encountered in any vehicle ever, I did it!

Dad, peering out of the kitchen window, had tears in his eyes as he watched me.  "How could I be so stupid!" he said, clearly remembering that I'd been taught by the best (him--obviously :)). He was so pleased that we were able to move his boat for him!  I am glad we could help. And lots of credit goes to my husband, who is the very best at giving calm, clear, and helpful instructions--why is he not an air traffic controller, I do not know!

I celebrated with a victory lap around the block. 

It's the little things, you know?  

Calling all Oregonians

 I have a great favor to ask any of you West Coasters who are familiar with the city of Portland.  My husband and son are heading there next month for a boys' trip: a couple nights in Portland, and then time on the coast and near Mount Hood.  We are trying to make some plans and learn more about Portland.  They're staying at the Hyatt Regency (attached to the convention center, I believe).  If anyone has any information on the area around there--let's say within a 5-block radius (restaurants, crime, whether it's reasonable to walk around a bit--we've heard some dodgy things about Portland), please let me know.  Finn was excited to check out Old Town/Chinatown, but reading some reviews on TripAdvisor has changed our analysis--it seems Chinatown doesn't really exist anymore, and it's not a very safe area.  However, Finn is still hoping to visit the Lan Su Garden: maybe a taxi cab would be helpful here? 

If you have any advice or tips, please do leave them in the comment section here or feel free to email me if you'd rather keep it private (thejoyfulhouse@gmail.com)

Thank you!

A Time for Every Purpose Under Heaven

We just returned from another trip to Charleston--this time, with Mr. Polly! 

 On this trip I noticed a marked change in my father. He and I are the early risers in the house, but this time around, instead of making coffee at 5:45 am and talking for two hours straight each morning as we sit in the two living room wingback chairs, I made coffee at 5:45 am and sat and knitted while he dozed.  The brain radiation has done a number on him, and the fatigue is deep. He has to use a walker to get around the house. My big, strong, robust Dad...on a walker.  It's surreal. But he's still smiling. He still enjoyed hearing Finn play piano, still enjoyed watching Annie flit around the place, still enjoyed watching football with his beloved son-in-law (although my Dad went to bed during halftime of the University of South Carolina game...another unprecedented event).

On our way out of town last week my aunt and uncle waved us down as we drove past them on the lane.  They were picking apples and gave me a lapful for our ride.  I love it when the apples are ripe! It signals the end of summer, the start of my birthday month, the coming of beautiful autumn--arguably the best time in these mountains of ours.  

And the apples remind me that this, too, is a season of life. Thanks be to God for His unending mercies. 

Lovely Lights

 One of the tasks we wanted to accomplish in Charleston this time was to change all the hard-to-reach lightbulbs in the house.  Lots of ceiling fixtures around here! So on our first day, my husband walked around the house with a ladder and took care of them all, and I was his assistant, which meant I handled the little bits and pieces, and then cleaned each fixture off before we replaced it. 

The whole time I was marveling at these light fixtures!  My great-grandmother, Nanny, chose them all around 1950, when she was about 58 years old.  She was born in 1892 and was, in my father's words, "a true Victorian."  She wore only skirts her entire life, and was devoted to her pearls and white gloves. 

So much white, cut glass, and etching.....

...this is only a tiny sampling.

I enjoy their propriety, their timelessness, their quiet femininity.  Very much like Nanny herself!

Departing Summer

 Here we are, in September already!  I can hardly believe it; the time has flown so quickly this summer.  Or to quote Annie's Venezuelan ballet master: "where the time does go?"

We are in Charleston (again!) this weekend, and this time my husband was able to come along to see my Dad for the first time since Easter, when my husband flew into Charleston at midnight from Finland on Good Friday and spent two happy and jet-lagged days here. 

I am working on knitting my first lace item, a green merino wool scarf that has been ripped out *twice*--once because after about nine inches of work, I realized I'd misinterpreted the pattern, and the second time because after about five inches of work, I realized I'd gotten too involved in my own thoughts and was somehow a few stitches short of a row.  I have begun again in earnest, with complete understanding of the pattern and the determination to stay focused!  

My father is two weeks out from finishing his two weeks of brain radiation, and he's a trooper. Brain radiation is not for the faint of heart. He had to spend three days *in the ER* (not kidding--in the emergency room for three days) last week, but things are more stable now.  He's a bit unsteady on his feet, weak as a kitten, fatigued from the brain radiation, but still smiling.  And so grateful for his many blessings. And so am I. If you think of it, please continue to pray for him: for few side effects, for a good quality of life, for faith and grace in the midst of it all.  

Gardening has been on the very back burner this summer, due to Life Circumstances.  And yet things continue to be pretty even without my active help.  My beloved "Autumn Joy" sedum is green, but will turn pink this month.

And the David Austin "Desdemona" roses that I planted last year are having a very good second year of life, in spite of my benign neglect.  These roses have the most gorgeous "old rose" scent, and their color is perfect for my preferred palate of pinks, greens, and the occasional purpley-blue. 

I'm trying to keep up with daily walks, enjoy my treats (morning coffee...good books...fun earrings), stay kind to my husband and children, keep everyone fed, clothed, and educated, and "rejoice at the times to come." Always. 

And life is still beautiful.