When I finally closed my eyes last night at a quarter past 11 o’clock, my favorite candidate Francie Kleckley was behind by 16 votes in what was a nailbiter in her primary election returns. I can add it was the same 16 votes all the news outlets had been reporting for the past couple of hours. Good grief, Pretty said to me, what can be so hard about tallying votes in those remaining four precincts?
More importantly, I answered, which four precincts are still outstanding?
(I have cleaned up this exchange for “family” readers.)
Five hours later I awoke for my nightly bathroom call and retrieved my cell phone to see this update from local CBS television news WLTX-19 online. I was so groggy at 3 a.m. I thought Francie had lost by 40 votes. After rubbing sleep from my eyes to look again, I realized she’d WON!
I got so excited I whispered to Pretty she won, she won! Pretty slept on even when I raised my voice and repeated the good news. Pretty can sleep through tropical storms, dogs barking, small earthquake tremors. It’s a special gift.
When Pretty was unresponsive, I texted Francie at 3:09 to congratulate her. Thankfully, she was also unresponsive.
This morning’s results from the State newspaper online also offered insights into the Republican incumbent Billy Garrett’s primary.
Watch out, Buffalo Billy – there’s a newcomer coming after you in November.
Still think your voice doesn’t matter? Think again. Vote.
Oh gosh, the old gray mare ain’t what she used to be. She thinks it’s December – not June, right? Sad.
Not to worry or despair, o ye cyberspace friends and followers. Blame Pretty for this one because yesterday she found a large decorative storage box full of Christmas cards we hadn’t looked through in twenty years. That’s right. Twenty years. As I waded through the memories, I found two rainbow greeting cards sent by two gay men named Chuck with different last names in different years, both of whom are now deceased.
That struck me as more than a random coincidence as we begin to celebrate Pride during the month of June, 2024.
So in memory of two friends who are no longer with me, Chuck Heath and Chuck Bowen, I wish you all a Happy Pride! Celebrate the season wherever you are.
Thanks to Pretty for establishing our annual Memorial Day weekend tradition and to our favorite daughter-in-law Caroline for collaborating with Pretty on invites, venues, food, fun, festivities every year when we pack our bags for a vacation in the upstate of South Carolina in the Blue Ridge Province of the Southern Appalachian mountain range. Guaranteed good times, but never forget there is a Chief Worrier in the group, and that would be me.
This year we had two major worries: the oven from hell in the kitchen of our Airbnb that refused to turn off Saturday afternoon when I placed Pretty’s vegetarian lasagna on the top rack of its preheated 350 degrees to cook for 25 minutes. To my horror the oven door refused to open at the end of 25 minutes or for the next twelve hours, the oven continued to bake throughout that time, and my Chief Worrier self kicked into high gear by suggesting we call 911 for the Fire Department at nine o’clock Saturday night – wherever the Fire Department might be for Hogback Mountain. Thank goodness for our calm son Drew who staged an intervention, urged me not to panic, talked me off the ledge on Saturday night, assured me the door handle was cooling, until the oven door finally opened Sunday morning. Repeat: Sunday morning.
Sofia (left) and Molly waiting for breakfast while Ella and I raid refrigerator
three-year-old Sofia brought her big sis Lily plus her parents Bryan and Nicole for the weekend
(they were all a great addition to the mix)
Sofia, Ella and Molly play on the beach at the nearby lake
how do you say salamander?and what are they anyway?
an unresolved mystery until Papa Williams (Pretty’s father) called to say
without salamanders, but her favorite new saying was
Go Away!
Go away, Neena and Naynay – but when we got up to leave, Molly would get up, too,
and say, I go with you!
The window seat in the living area of the Airbnb was a favorite spot for the girls.
she thinks she’s the only one who can have a Unicorn
that Unicorn belongs to me and only me, says four-year-old Ella
oh, man – make her give me back my Unicorn – I’ll trade for sunglasses
ok, let’s trade
just kidding – I’ll keep the sunglasses and the Unicorn
Remember I said two worries? The second one came when we were leaving Monday morning in the midst of a very strong storm on the mountain. Winds actually blowing ferociously, rain pouring on us as we carried our girls and belongings to the cars. I knew my Chief Worrier needed to be summoned when normally calm Drew shouted, Be quick – we have to get out of here – there’s a tree down on the road! Our little caravan of three vehicles left the house in a hurry on the small gravel road we had to use to come down the mountain. Not far from the house a power line was down across the road which meant we had to turn around and take a different direction. Whew. My nerves were a wreck by the time we reached Landrum where we met Papa Williams for lunch.
Guaranteed good times, you bet! High drama an unexpected twist in 2024! I wouldn’t trade sunglasses or anything else for the time with family and friends this year. I’m grateful to the service members who made the ultimate sacrifice for us to live in a free country where we can celebrate their memories in special ways on Memorial Day.
God bless the United States of America, and God bless our troops.
4-year-old Ella in a very special vintage Esprit dress
What could be a more awesome birthday gift for your 64th. birthday than to see your granddaughter wearing a dress you bought when you were pregnant with your son in 1985? For Pretty whose birthday was yesterday, nothing could have made her happier than to see the dress she had carefully preserved for nearly forty years finally being worn by a child she loved with all her being.
In the 1970s technologies made it possible to determine the sex of a fetus before the baby was born; however, these measures were not popular until the 1990s which meant that in 1985 in Columbia, South Carolina when Pretty was pregnant during the very hot summer months and shopping for fashionable clothes for her baby to be, she had no idea that instead of a dainty little baby girl who would treasure a fashionable Esprit dress when she was four years old, she would have a 10 lb. 8 oz. baby boy who probably could have worn that dress on the day he was born.
Occasionally during the past twenty-three years we’ve been together Pretty would take the dress out of the box, remind me of its history, then carefully fold to put it back. That dress represented so much to her and to know Pretty is to understand she finds it nearly impossible to let anything go, but several weeks ago she told me she thought it would fit our older granddaughter perfectly so maybe the dress needed a new home.
When Ella’s dad saw her in the dress yesterday and learned its history, he was astonished and said it fit her perfectly, like it had been bought for her – and of course it had. Hopefully one day it will fit perfectly for Molly.
Happy Birthday to Pretty a/k/a Mom a/k/a Nana a/k/a Neena who recognized the love from her family as the most important gift of all time. You are our treasure.
I'll Call It Like I See It 
You must be logged in to post a comment.