Friday, November 10, 2023

Our Fair Lady, Tinley

Two old geezers pulled up to the Coastal Carolina Fair with a wide-eyed 3 year old great-grandbaby in tow. 


Like all the people we said we weren't going to be like when we got old, here we were indeed, arriving at our destination early, like when restaurants start serving dinner at 4, the matinee movies at 10, and — when the fair gate opens.

 

The flagman kept moving us further and further away from the entrance. My feet started hurting just thinking of the walk. 


Tinley was fixated on the towering Ferris Wheel before we even got her out of the car seat. Rather than follow the crowd walking (who might be lost) I asked the flagman where the nearest entrance was.  He directed us to a tunnel that went under the road very near us. Score! 

Tinley said "Scary" when we entered the dark tunnel. I saw a shadow of something large lying in the middle of the pathway. Please don't let this be a dead animal, I thought to myself. I laughed when I made out what it was and then I got sad. Someone dropped their $15 turkey leg. It looked like they were on their first bite too. 


Waves of nostalgia overcame me when we walked through the gates. I don't care how old you are when you go to the fair, when you pass through the gates and smell the combo of fried everything, you are 10 again.


Little Miss Tinley marched us right up to the Ferris Wheel, first thing. But the two old geezers with bladders the size of walnuts had to find the restrooms right off the bat. She was patient in the line as we waited our turn to board, grinning from ear to ear when she clamored into a bench.   

I sat across from Don and his great-grand. 62 years separate them. She doesn't know this, she thinks we are 12 years old. 


That 15 minute Ferris Wheel Ride was amazing. 39 years replayed with each belly flop at the top. I remembered my young hubby, our first date, right here. I was a single mom with two little girls not much older than Tinley. We rode the Ferris Wheel that night. I can see their eyes today in Tinley's as we made each loop. I also remembered my middle aged hubby with our first granddaughter, Tinley's mama, on this ride. And here we are today with Tinley, our third generation little girl is giggling with us.

 

Tinley is fearless for such a tiny tot. She barely comes in at 30 pounds and almost a foot too short for all of the rides she wants to ride. 

Don has vertigo now and could barely watch us go by in the tea cups and bumble bee's and various kiddie rides. 

While I knew she was having a blast, all of these seemed too tame for the little one who had her eyes on the roller coaster nearby. The screams coming from the ride made her laugh. When we got off of the BumbleBee (which was too much for me) she headed straight to the roller coaster. We showed her she was too short and she didn't grumble, but wanted to sit and watch them as they zoomed by. She said "Here we go '' and "Scream" as they changed passengers 3 times. Finally I saw the operator let a very young child get on with his father. I thought we could try it, I grabbed Tinley's hand and we hurried up the ramp. I could feel her little heart pounding as I held her like a mama bear. She indeed screamed as we whizzed by her Paw Paw over and over. The grin on her face was permanent for an hour. Her first roller coaster!

 

We rode two sheets of tickets out. I had a couple left and we headed to the pony carousel. A man held out a handful of tickets to Don and told him that they were leaving and we should use them. Don thanked him and we didn't think anything more of it. 

We boarded the ponies on the carousel. A Hispanic man came up and wanted to put his daughter beside us on a pony, he asked with his eyes, I answered with the shake of my head. The music started, the ride jerked and around we went, the ponies climbed their poles going up and down. I was looking for Don as we passed to get her to wave and when I looked back at Tinley, she had stuck her arm out to the little girl to hold her hand. They rode like that for several rounds.


When we got off the carousel, Tinley headed to the gate, just done. No whining, no crying, just done. Don asked me for the tickets that were left and went to a father in the crowd and gave them to him. Tinley held her hand out for "tix'' as well. I gave her the little advertising part of the tickets that I was saving to put in a journal to her Mimi in heaven. She held them in her hand tightly, I was pretty sure that I would get them back when she went to sleep in the car seat on the way home. But, that wasn't the case. When we hit the fairway, Tinley picked out a couple and stopped them in their tracks, holding out the tickets/not tickets. I explained to the couple that they weren't  tickets but she thought they were and wanted them to have them. They thanked her and she beamed. As we walked down the last feet of the boulevard, Tinley looked up at all of the colors and waving banners for this and that and smiled.


We headed back into the tunnel to leave. The turkey drumstick was gone, but its memory remains and it will end up in a conversation somewhere years from now, "Do you remember the time at the fair that..." 


Tinley went to sleep within minutes of getting in the car. I didn't have any ephemera to paste into the journal, but what I had was better. Don and I held hands as we pulled out, "What an awesome day" I told him. We recounted little clips of the day, I told him Tinley gave away her "tix."  

"Yes, I saw her holding that little girl's hands too, kids show us what the world can really be like." he said. 

The fair will be over soon, the fairway will resemble the boulevard of broken dreams; spilled fries, squished packages of ketchup, sticky everything, lost tickets trampled into the ground and yes, even turkey legs. 

Such is life, such is the fair. It is magical, wonderful and scary. Today I think I caught the brass ring.





Wednesday, September 13, 2023

 

I took these pics while cruising by them on Lake Moultrie last year in our boat. I cast my fishing line up under them because I thought "If I were a fish, I'd like to live here, in the magical shade and protection of this moss shrouded Juniper tree." I guess the fish thought the same thing and decided not to take the bait. 

I love how the moss has claimed the conifers as a host. I know it's detrimental to the health of tree's but look at that color combo. 

A few new Sherwin Williams colors I came up with yesterday 


Gray Berries

Gin as Tonic


Monday, September 4, 2023

Gifts From Above

 

I am blessed to live on a tiny acre between old growth pines. On morning walks to the chicken coop, little Surcee's are gifted me. Surcee means; little gifts for no apparent reason. I think the origin of the word is Scottish. 

This month's offerings have been delightful! Hawk feathers, owl feathers, dove feathers, tufts of nest and this latest, lichen.  

I believe the surcee's to be apologies for the dreadful inundation of Copperhead snakes this year. I think we are at 10 right now. In their defense, they have all been killed at dusk, which is their bewitching hour and happens to coincide with Zoe's potty walk. 


Not all surcee's are tangible. Some are audible, the turkey's squabbling in the pine ridge nearby, the wailing of bob-cats during mating season. Some are visible, said bob-cats, turkey's, rabbit, birds of all species, butterflies, mayflies, dragonflies, hummingbird's...

  

But, I'm most fond of the little things I can bring in to my little space and look at when the days shorten, when the cold comes — and it will. 

"The longer I live, the more beautiful life becomes,

If you foolishly ignore beauty, 

You will be impoverished.

But — if you invest in beauty, 

it will remain with you all the days of your life."

Frank Lloyd Wright

 

Thursday, August 24, 2023

Puzzled

 
  
    

I haven't put a puzzle together for 2 1/2 years now. I presumed this as just another area of my life
that has been altered by grief. 
    
Subconsciously, I think I knew that the last thing I needed was the additional challenge of trying to    make pieces of anything make sense, to put broken back together seemed an impossibility.  
While wandering through the toy department last week looking for a puzzle for Tinley, I inadvertently stumbled across one that spoke to me, not the puzzle itself, the name, Winds of Change.
Winds of Change, yes indeed, I can identify with those. It reminded me of a weird word that popped up on a meme recently, Uitwaaien.
Uitwaaien is a Dutch word that cannot be fully translated into English: it literally means 'to walk in the wind" but in the more figurative and commonly used sense, it means to take a brief break to clear one's head.
I have found that "walking in the wind" does just that for me. It drowns out the internal noise. Walking the beach at tide change is my favorite, the wind always seems to kick up then. Another favorite place to walk in the wind is in my own yard, right before a storm (not during) while the leaves swish together like a feather tambourine.
I bought the puzzle, I'm enjoying it. It seems that things that got turned around are slowly righting themselves, while things that maybe needed to change, have/are.
Winds of Change, I like to think there will be a new place to rest when it subsides.





Wednesday, March 9, 2022

Rowl, the roaring Lion

I asked my granddaughter what she would like me to paint for her. She asked for a white tiger, "And if that mockingbird don't sing, grandma's gonna paint you a ti- a- ger" 

Her baby girl, my great granddaughter Tinley loves tiger's too. She is barely talking but if you ask what a kitty or a tiger says, she will answer "Rowl."  

This is a 26 x 26 oil on wood panel. The Siberian White Tiger has a skull measurement of 16 inches, so with the fur, this is close to the actual size of it's head. Whoa!!