Seven little cygnets

I got some pictures of the little swans, which I have learned are called "cygnets."  They are all alive and healthy, and after getting close enough to take these photos, I'm happy to report that I am, too.

Swan lake

Last week when we were fishing with the children in one of the country club ponds, the male swan was unusually aggressive, and threatened to attack anyone he felt was invading his territory.  He made Jimmy and Jake back up a time or two.  Now we understand his behavior:  seven baby swans hatched last week.

One of the golf staff took this picture.  I may take my telephoto lens out tomorrow and try to get a few shots myself - and be prepared to run!

Jimmy's Emory report

Jimmy and I made the trek from Highlands to Atlanta and back today, an easy trip and very encouraging medically.  Jimmy continues his excellent response to the Revlimid and dexamethasone, and although we constantly complain about the nasty side effects, the stuff works.

His numbers look great, and today they included a graph that is a wonderful visual aid.  The paraprotein level I'm always talking about is the primary marker for multiple myeloma.  As you can see, a year ago, Jimmy was still in complete remission, but after that, the cancer started coming back with a vengeance, and he was pretty sick all winter.  He started back on chemo in February, and his numbers have dramatically improved.

Lunch with Jay and Libby

Jay and Libby Shaw from Lakeland, GA are in Highlands for a wedding, and we had the nicest visit.  Jay's Aunt Mary Lois was married to Jimmy's Uncle Robert, so the Shaws are family, plus Jay and Jimmy were in business together for a number of years, before Jay went into politics.  He was in the Georgia House of Representatives for twenty years, and now is a member, soon to be Chairman, of the Department of Transportation.

Our sentiments exactly

Camp is over, and although the children were great and we thoroughly enjoyed being with them, it was a little challenging, for Jimmy especially.  He is exhausted.  Jittery seventy-year-old cancer patients on high-dose steroids, and noisy, rambunctious little boys make an interesting combination.

Edvard Munch, "The Scream"  Norwegian, 1893

Camp Dewar

I fed the children early so Jake and Jimmy could go fish, and William and I could go to the Bingo game for the campers.  A couple of minutes into our meal, William said, "Ellen, you forgot something."   "What's that, William?"  "You forgot to light candles."  And I had forgotten, but remedied it right away.  It was our tradition last year, and candles always do make an occasion more festive.

Jake is a fisherman, but William prefers to listen to music on Jimmy's iPad. (We had finished our Bingo.)

A pretty little fishing hole on the golf course.

Jake caught and released about twenty little trout.  This was the largest.

What on earth kind of fish is this, with all the spikes on his head?

William and Jake are attending Highlands CC day camp this week

Jake and Jimmy getting their fishing tackle ready

William listens to some song called "Cooties" on Jimmy's iPad while Jake dances

Happy Father's Day to a terrific daddy: our Patrick

Pat cuddling his girls, Caroline and Nelly

Goodbye, Yustega

Jimmy and I were living at our farm in north Florida in April 2007 when he was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, and from that time on, nothing has ever been the same.  When we closed the door to Yustega, when we left to go to Atlanta to fight Jimmy's cancer, we didn't realize that we were also closing the door on that part of our life for good. It has just taken us a long time to admit it.

All this time, a fine young man, Jason, has lived in the caretaker's cottage on the property and looked after things.  When he told us this spring that he was getting married and moving away, we knew it was time to pull the plug. We listed Yustega for sale in late April with a group out of Thomasville that specializes in this type of property, and the very next week, the first people they showed it to wanted it.

We've had to go through the usual inspection period, make some repairs, jump through all the real estate hoops you have to jump through, but we did, and it was finalized today.  No regrets.  We loved it, we had a ball creating it together, we made some great memories, but it's past time to turn the page and let somebody else enjoy it.

We are very happy with the new owners, a young couple from Jacksonville with three children, that are buying it as a second home.  He is a hedge fund manager and she is a doctor. They bought a LOT of the furnishings, but of course, pack rat that I am, I had to keep a lot of it, too.

Last week the mover Deon Crenshaw brought a truckload of paintings and rugs and things I'm too sentimental about to part with to Highlands. I'm finally about to get it all straight, and now we can move on to another project. Like painting, I hope.

Small crisis (but big inconvenience) averted

I will give an accounting for the last couple of weeks tomorrow or Friday.  We are fine, just a little tired and frazzled, and I long for peace and simplicity. Yesterday didn't help, but it turned out well.

I lost my wallet.  Not really my wallet, but the little thing-y that I carry my driver's licence in, AND my debit card, AND my American Express card, AND my health insurance card AND my Sam's Club card: all the really important stuff.  I was in a state, but thankfully some kind soul found it in the Bryson's grocery store parking lot, and turned it in to customer service.

It reminded me of what a nightmare it was when I lost my wallet in Switzerland in 1971.  Josie Eager and I were spending the summer in Europe traveling, after graduating from college.

That time, my wallet contained my passport, my plane ticket home and all my travelers' checks.  Josie and I had to spend several days in Bern, Switzerland sorting through the mess. It was awful, but again, another honest person found it, and mailed it to the address on the passport, and it was in Valdosta waiting for me when I got home. That was small consolation, though, when I was having to get everything replaced.

Chaos

Afternoon with Eleanor

I had the nicest visit with my remarkable aunt Eleanor Sunday afternoon.  Everything she has ever done, she has done well.  Until a few years ago, she sang in the choir at First Methodist, often singing solos in her lovely contralto. She published a book in 1992, and is currently working on another.

She's a wonderful cook and hostess, gardener and bridge player, has traveled the world over, and recently donated her large collection of Meissen porcelain to the art center.  I could go on and on and on, but it will suffice to say that Jane Austen in Pride and Prejudice would have called her "an accomplished lady."

As many times as I have been in her house all my life, I've never asked or known the story behind so many things until yesterday.

Eleanor commissioned this watercolor of the house where she and her husband Bill lived in Germany

She gave these original watercolors to Bill for his last birthday, before  he tragically  died in the Berlin airlift  in 1948

This oil painting, bought by Eleanor and Bill together in Germany, has hung in the upstairs hallway for as long as I can remember.  As a very small child, I thought that it was a picture of Heaven, and that if I looked long enough, I could catch God peeking out from behind the big cloud.

And I just remembered: she was Jimmy's 2nd grade teacher!

Another raccoon raid...

...but this time it was on the eagles' nest in Minnesota instead of the Dewars' back porch

At about dusk yesterday, a large and foolhardy raccoon was looking for some eaglet for dinner, but Mom was nearby and came to the rescue. The raccoon must have survived the fall, or he'd have been served up for breakfast, and the eaglets would be wearing coonskin caps by now.