Cherokee

We took a little road trip to Cherokee today with the Youmans.  Jimmy has been talking about wanting to go all summer, to check out the casino, which was surprising since neither of us likes to gamble.

We stopped in Dillsboro for lunch at the Jarrett House, where they serve mounds of great country cooking.

As you would expect, people were lined up, waiting to get in.

Harrah's casino

I allotted myself $20 to spend on a slot machine, and selected this particular one because of the eagle on it, and promptly lost my money in record time.  It was pretty boring really.  The slots were digital, and everything seemed so quiet since there was no lever to pull on the One-Armed Bandit, and there were no quarters clattering out, if you did happen to win.

Jimmy played blackjack at the $15 table, and actually did pretty well.  He probably would have come out ahead, except we were all ready to leave so he cashed in his chips when he was about $50 down. 

In retrospect, I think one of the reasons we were so ready to leave was the smoking: the place reeked of cigarette smoke.  That's the first time in years we've been in a place that allowed smoking, and it looked like half the people in there had cigarettes in their mouths.  I guess on Indian reservations, they can make their own rules. 

The Cullasaja River on the Franklin Road

The prettiest foliage we saw all day was in Highlands, I guess because of the higher altitude.  This is at the Highlands Country Club.

Parking lot at HCC

Chipmunks

As the days get shorter and the temperature drops, the chipmunks are in a frenzy to stock their larders before winter, and all their darting and scurrying about is driving Andy nuts.

Autumn is upon us

So far, I don't think this is one of our best leaf seasons: beautiful but not spectacular like some years.  Maybe we haven't hit the peak yet; some trees, like the red maple, turned early and have already dropped their leaves, while others are still showing a lot of green.

Jimmy and I went to Henry's in Clayton for lunch today, for our fried chicken fix and to get off the mountain for a while. Traffic was so heavy we were afraid Henry's would be closed by the time we got there - or worse, have run out of fried chicken.  The leafers were everywhere, sightseeing and clogging up traffic and making a general nuisance of themselves, getting in the way of people like us who were hungry and had a destination.  George's Zip Line was booming, and not a parking space was to be seen, both times we passed it.

Jimmy looks really good, and I wish he felt as good as he looks.  He has good days and bad, depending on where we are with the medication.  He sleeps a lot, sometimes 10 or 12 hours a night plus a good nap or two. We pace things, and try to have an "event" every day  - either go out to lunch (if we can get up early enough) or have dinner with friends.  People seem surprised at how well he's doing, but what they don't see is that he's been resting up all day for it.

Jimmy's M-spike had gone up (bad) when he was tested a few weeks ago, while his good counts had gone down (also bad), but that was after only one round of doubling the chemo, and we are hopeful that the next tests will show that things are going in the right direction.

We had planned on going home around the 20th but Jimmy's next Emory appointment is on the 29th, so we think maybe we'll delay the trip a week and do our Emory thing on our way home.

Spaghetti Junction

We spent Monday night at the Emory Conference Center so we could be at the clinic for Jimmy's 8:30 appointment - WAY early for us.  His initial blood work looked a little off this time:  WBC and platelets low and glucose level unusually high, and the total protein had jumped up. Dr. Lonial didn't seem too concerned and attributed it to the doubling of his chemo last month.  We won't get the important numbers until next week.

On our way back to Highlands, as we drove through Spaghetti Junction on I-85, I smiled at a recollection that recurs every time we go through there.  On September 11, 2001 (!!!)  Mama and her friend Tot Amon and Jeanne and Wilbur Rountree were in Tot's white Chevy Impala, en route to Highlands where they were going to stay at his daughter's house. Mama and Tot and Jeanne were probably in their mid-eighties and Wilbur had to have been ninety at the time.

Somewhere around Spaghetti Junction, they ran over one of those big orange cones and it got stuck under the car.  They managed to get over onto the shoulder, and all got out of the car to survey the problem.  Fortunately, a good Samaritan stopped and dislodged the cone and they continued on their way, oblivious to the tragedy that was unfolding in New York that day, as well as one they'd  narrowly missed themselves.

 It was such a dangerous situation, but I still get tickled at the mental image I have of those four, huddled up by the busy road, peering under the Impala and debating who was going to crawl under it and pull that cone out.

The Boys

These "boys" have remained best friends since they pledged KA at the University of Georgia in 1961.

Kenny Youmans, John McNeil, Jimmy, and Easy Ed Jared at Helen and Comer Hobbs' last night

Down the hill to Franklin

Jimmy and I decided to take advantage of the perfect fall day and make the scenic 15 mile drive to Franklin this morning.   Franklin is the county seat for Macon county, where Highlands is also located, and I've been wanting to do a little title research in the courthouse there.  I'd always heard that my great-grandfather had a place in Highlands before he bought the house in Hendersonville, and I thought it would be interesting to find out where it was.

No luck.  There were not a lot of transactions in the time frame I was searching, and none for Bray.  He must have rented a place or stayed in a hotel like the Highlands Inn, which has been here for 125 years.  I guess he didn't like it here because he went a few miles east and bought the Buncombe Street house in Hendersonville that we all remember so fondly.

The Franklin courthouse is only a few blocks from a popular local restaurant, Cafe Rel, which serves excellent French cuisine, and is incongruously located in a large gas station. Jimmy got linguine with clam sauce (clams in the shells) and I had chicken livers and shallots braised in brandy.  The recipes all seem to be a la Julia Childs, in that they must use a stick of butter in every dish. Rich but Good.

FORE!!! Here comes the bride....!!!

Highlands has become a hot spot for destination weddings, largely at The Old Edwards Inn. (Incidentally, The Old Edwards Inn was voted #3 in the US by Conde Nast in the small hotels and Inns category, behind The Cloister and The Sea Island Lodge.)  We heard that they did over 150 weddings and receptions just this summer.

A couple of weekends ago, I was driving by the golf course, and there was a wedding couple being photographed on the cart path/bridge of the 18th hole, on a beautiful afternoon with golfers everywhere.  I hate to miss a photo op, so I parked my car and took a picture, too.

One of the best obits ever

I just read this on the 'net and thought it was worth sharing.  I hope you can pull it up, 'cause it's worth the effort.

http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/savannah/obituary.aspx?pid=166950349#fbLoggedOut

Jackie and Mary arrived safely in Philadelphia after a long, long drive, and they're moved in.  They're exhausted but sound happy and excited about their new home and like the neighborhood.

They gave both of their cats sedatives to make the trip easier for them, but it must have had the opposite effect on one of the kitties, because she yowled the whole way up. I don't think Jimmy and I could have stood it much past Cordele.

Jackie and Mary's Big Adventure

Jackie and Mary, with their two cats and their dog Charlie, left yesterday on their move back to Philadelphia.  We're sad that they'll be so far away, but are excited about their future.  And Phillie is a great place to visit.

 

R.I.P. Fred

Portrait of Fred by Hugh Harris West

I've never had to euthanize a pet until today, and it's hard.  We got back to Valdosta last night, and it was immediately obvious that Fred the Cat had deteriorated.  Shirley Crowder, who helps me, feeds her, and Mary, my daughter-in-law, comes by when Shirley can't, and they both have been concerned lately.

I wouldn't be surprised to learn that Fred was 20 years old.  She was a stray that took up at our house years ago, and when I finally decided we were stuck with her and took her in for shots in 2004, they said she was  an older cat, maybe 8 or 10.  I'd been calling her Fred for a year by then, thinking she was a tomcat, and when the vet told me he was a she, it was too late to start calling her something else.

Today she looked thin, bedraggled, was unable to control her bodily functions, and was barely able to eat or walk, and  appeared to be in pain.  When I called her, she hid under the sofa on the porch.  She must have sensed something was up. I lured her out with a piece of meat and drove her in her pet carrier to the vet, with her meowing and me crying all the way. When they brought her towel-wrapped body back to the car for me, they said she had been in bad shape, and that I had done the humane thing, but still...

I buried her in the backyard by Teddy the chihuahua, with Mama's statue of Francis of Assisi standing watch.

Go Dogs!!

Jimmy is very, very, very serious about his Bulldogs, and he doesn't want any distractions when Georgia's playing.  Kenny and Jane Youmans are as big Dawg fans as Jimmy, so they're perfect companions for watching Spurrier get stomped.

This boar's head hangs over the TV downstairs.  About 10 or 12 years ago , we were staying with Mac and Susan at their beach house in St. George, and we went to the St. George volunteer fire department auction.  "Sister, do you see anything you want for your birthday?"  It happened to be my birthday.  "Yes, I'd like to have that big old boar's head over there," I answered.  At the time I had no idea what I was going to do with a boar's head, but Jimmy and Mac bid on it and won it for $100, and I smile every time I look at it.

Be young, be foolish, be happy

My children Max and Elizabeth are in Denver celebrating their 5th anniversary, and I think they might be having just a little fun.

Revlimid increase

We got the results from Jimmy's blood and 24-hour urine collection tests today, and the cancer is stable and at the same level as last month.  It's good that it isn't going up, but we need for it to keep dropping, so Dr. Lonial is going to double his Revlimid dosage and see if that gets it moving in the right direction.  We hate that it zaps him so hard, but we've got to do it.

He's having pain in his ribs and back so he's getting an MRI at the end of the month.  It could be nothing or it could be the myeloma causing trouble again.

He's doing well, all things considered, although chronic fatigue continues to be an irritant, but if he gets plenty of rest and paces himself, we can enjoy a relatively normal life.

Globetrotters

I think Jimmy and my traveling days are over - I just can't see us dragging suitcases and negotiating airports any more.  We have friends that travel a lot though, so we get to vicariously enjoy their adventures, just hearing about them.  Carolyn Eager and Dan Coleman have a house in Highlands, but we've hardly gotten a glimpse of them all summer as they've kept up a hectic pace, bouncing from one continent to another.

They were here for the Labor Day weekend however, and we enjoyed being with them.  Carolyn was showing me some pictures she'd taken of the different courses they'd had at a fabulous dinner in Paris. The presentation of each course was very artistic and beautiful, but the picture I liked the best was the one the waiter took of them.  I liked it so much I e-mailed it to myself, and here it is:

True grit

I marveled today, watching Diana Nyad wading out of the ocean after swimming 103 miles from Cuba to Key West in a little under 54 hours.  She's 64, the same as I am, and this was her fifth attempt in 35 years. Through swollen, sun-burned lips, she said she had three things to say: one, never, ever give up; two, you're never too old to chase your dreams; and three, it looks like a solitary sport, but it's a team.

Watching her, I started mentally comparing her to my friend Janice Allen, who is also 64 (well, almost- she'll be 64 on November 23rd).  Janice doesn't swim the Florida straits like Diana Nyad, but she DOES regularly hike from the Dillard Road here in Highlands, up to her condo at VZ Top and back down again in 45 minutes.  It's only about 3 miles round trip, but the elevation rises from 3600 feet to 4200 feet, and it's a steep climb.

My first memory of Janice - she was Janice Wisenbaker then - was when we were in the 2nd grade at Sallas-Mahone.  She looked like a little doll, with blond hair and big blue eyes, but what I REALLY remember was this sweater she had.  It was all pink and fluffy and I coveted it something awful.

In 2009, the year before I was diagnosed with lymphoma, Janice was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and like mine, her prognosis at the time looked pretty scary. But 1949 must have been a good year for tough women, because here we are now in 2013, and Diana is conquering oceans and Janice is scaling tall mountains (but with bells hooked to her belt to ward off the bears), and I'm ...hanging in there.

Janice's (and Reuben's) portrait by Fay Bridges Hyatt

The Kudzu Ball at Highlands Country Club

Suggested dress was "no tie" but people came decked out like it was a casting call for Duck Dynasty. Fun.

Men. (sigh)

I do not know why Jimmy feels compelled to turn our neatly made bed into this...this..PILLOW PILE, but Andy at least seems to approve. He burrowed right in and made himself a cozy nest.

Happy birthday, Elizabeth!

Elizabeth and Max Oliver

Leaf season has begun

It's not even the end of August, and we're already beginning to see some fall color.

$20 well spent

Another month has flown by, and today was Emory Checkup Day again. Since Jimmy's appointment was later than usual, we decided to treat ourselves to an early lunch at our favorite restaurant: Henry's in Clayton GA. Given a choice between dinner at Bacchanalia and lunch at Henry's, we'd pick Henry's.

It opens at 11 AM, so we were the first customers when they opened the door at 10:55.  Jimmy had three pieces of fried chicken and no dessert, and I had one piece of fried chicken and three desserts (well, a healthy big bite of three different desserts since I couldn't make up my mind) As usual, it was divine.

This is the proprietor, although I don't think his name is Henry.  During the week, lunch is a flat $10 per person, not $10 plus tax., and he just sits there with a big old pile of tens and twenties on the table.