First day of kindergarten

Eldest grandchild William started kindergarten this week at Valwood, and judging from the apprehensive look on his face, he wasn't too sure about the whole thing.

Checkups, Andy, and A Midsummer Night's Fire

WE trekked down to Atlanta and back today for Jimmy's checkup at Emory - he's only having to be seen every sixty days now. As usual, the myeloma tests won't be completed for several more days, but the preliminary bloodwork looked excellent.

Dr. Lonial seems pleased with how well Jimmy's doing. Andy had to be left home alone all day, although a friend did come by after lunch to take him for a walk. I think Andy missed us: tonight he hauled every toy he has out of his toy box and dumped them at my feet, wanting to play.

When we turned onto Clifton Road leaving the clinic this afternoon, the thermometer in the car said it was 103 outside; that was probably an exaggeration because of all the pavement, but it was HOT.

By the time we'd wound up the mountain to Highlands, a shower had moved through, and it was in the mid-60's at our house. There's nothing like a nice fire in the middle of August to take the chill out of a room. (Yes, that IS obnoxious, isn't it?)

A bee-loud glade

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree;
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee;
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And the evening full of the linnet's wings.

by William Butler Yeats

Because our house hangs off the side of a mountain, all it has is a long driveway and a view. And being the only arable spot on the property, the driveway is planted profusely with oak hydrangeas, daisies, day lilies, hostas, and iris.

Hundreds of bees hum their contentment as they industriously collect the pollen, daily bringing to mind Mr. Yeats' "bee-loud glade" as we pass through them to the road.

Lions and tigers and bears: oh my!

Andy has acted strangely here in the mountains: spooked, watchful, nervous, excited. We've speculated that he smells the bears that have been spotted in the neighborhood. Last year I saw a huge cat of some kind (I told Jimmy I thought it was a mountain lion, but he says not) near our driveway, and I've heard what I thought were coyotes howling in the middle of the night.

Looking down from our deck late last evening, we saw a couple of bobcat cubs pouncing at each other and darting back into the undergrowth. I managed to get a photo of one of them. It's a long way down so it's pretty hazy, even with the zoom, but you can see him staring up at us.

We're only taking Andy out on a leash these days.

Trend setter

Jimmy's had a hard time deciding whether it's warm or cool, hence the shorts and sandals with the white socks. I told him today that he needs to design a line of footwear for the mature man, and that its name should be "Geezer."

Jimmy gets scissor-happy

Sunday morning, while we were loading up the car to go back to Highlands, the heat and humidity really started getting to me, and my hair kept clumping up under my collar and scratching my neck. I handed Jimmy a pair of scissors and we went out on the deck for him to trim it up a little.

I stood there, expecting to hear a delicate snip, snip, snip, but instead was dismayed by a heavy SCRUNCH, SCRUNCH, SCRUNCH, and the sight of long strands of hair falling around my feet.

"STOP!!" I shrieked. "What are you DOING?"

"I'm cutting your hair like you asked me to." Jimmy sounded aggrieved.

"I asked you to TRIM it, not whack it off up to my ears. You've cut off three inches!"

"Well, you told me to cut it. You didn't say not to cut it short."

"I didn't tell you not to give me a Mohawk either!! I'd have been better off if I'd just called [three-year-old] Jake to come over and cut it!"

"That hurts," sulked Jimmy, "really cuts me to the quick."


My foot is for scale.
I'm becoming reconciled to my new 'do. And maybe Jimmy has discovered a talent as a hair stylist. Maybe he could become the new Jamison Shaw; it's unfortunate that his old bad back won't let him stand for very long.

August 4

We love this time of year in Highlands, with the daytime temperatures just right for porch sitting, and at night, it's perfect for sleeping with the windows open.

I'm going to a watercolor workshop at the Bascom Art Center this week. We're painting from live models, which is more challenging than working from photographs, since the brain has to interpret three dimensions as two.