by sheila morris
From our first trip together to Cancun, Mexico in 2001…
…to a recent outing 22 years later with our granddaughters at a local Mexican restaurant…
…Pretty and I have considered Mexican food to be nectar of the gods
Viva! Viva!
Find your happy place – and stick with it.
(l – r) Molly, Ella and Caleb
Our granddaughters sixteen-month-old Molly with three-year-old big sister Ella plus their ten-month-old first cousin Caleb had a room with a view in our Memorial Day weekend place in the mountains of the South Carolina upstate. This is their story.
Caleb, come with me, said Molly
then Ella said Caleb, don’t go with Molly – she’s a drama queen
so Caleb stayed with Ella, and Molly sat by herself
I’ve got my baby and my guard dog Carl, Molly said
Carl and I can hang out with Naynay
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I went for a walk with my Aunt Darlene, said Ella…
I petted a baby goat at the Farmer’s Market…
I had s’mores around a big campfire while Molly and Nana talked
Mama and Daddy were all smiles when we went to dinner…
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and then every night Naynay and I were so tired we went fast asleep
while Nana read her book
The End
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Slava Ukraini. For the children.
Number One Son Drew and Pretty Too Caroline along with their daughters Ella and Molly treated Pretty a/k/a Nana and me a/k/a Naynay to a Mother’s Day brunch Saturday at the Luzianna Purchase restaurant in Irmo, the second year in a row we have had that family fun there. Hm. I think I smelled tradition when we were eating, but possibly that was the aroma of the best French toast I ever had. Everyone enjoyed the food – I sat next to fifteen month old Molly whose little teeth allow her to taste whatever looks inviting which, for her at this moment, is everything.
Naynay, can I please try your French toast?
Three and a half year old Ella lost interest in our conversations but never loses interest in her Nana’s phone. Endless entertainment for her although her parents, ahem, prefer limited cell phone viewing. Honestly, where does that child get her phone obsession, Nana and Naynay?
Ella took this photo of her mother using Nana’s phone
At some point during brunch, Ella asked us if she could come to our house when we finished eating. Of course, the answer was yes so she came home with us for the afternoon. The energy level picked up steam when the tornado that is our granddaughter mixed with our barking dogs who announce but try to ignore her presence. Although the afternoon sun was warm with temperatures in the mid 80s, the pool was still too cold for jumping in so Ella had to settle for playing with her toys which we have had on our screen porch for her (and now Molly) for the past three years.
The girls have tons of toys at their house, but when they come to our screen porch they make their own outdoor games with empty pill bottles, bandaid boxes, a tennis ball, homemade wooden car, a green frog that once croaked but the squeaker gave up, and a box of cards that can be admired but too difficult to open. Ella created elaborate stories while she filled the pill bottles with pool water from the shallow steps to make “pretend” sodas for us while we kept watch. She also was happy to carry cold water bottles and peanut butter crackers to the two men who were working on replacing the wood on our deck. Busy, busy, busy.
I told her we were so happy to have her visits but I was afraid there’d come a time when she would have her own friends to play with and she wouldn’t be interested in visiting her Nana and Naynay. She looked at me and said with all sincerity, “When I get bigger I’ll have my own car and can drive to see you.” End of story…
By far the highlight of Ella’s time with us was when Nana took her to the front yard and let her run back and forth through the sprinkler before we loaded her into the car for the trip to take her home. She loves water as much as Pretty does, and she squealed with laughter, with delight, with the pleasure of getting soaked and announced this was her best time ever and didn’t I just love what she was doing?
Of course, I said yes.
our beautiful Mother’s Day gift from the kids
Pretty and I appreciate our family time and understand how fortunate we are to love and be loved by them. We also know Mother’s Day can be a reminder of loss for other mothers, daughters, sisters, grandmothers – losses that leave vacuums in our hearts. I remember a hymn that went something like now the day is over, night is drawing nigh, shadows of the evening steal across the sky. For this one day let the shadows bring us comfort and peace with the possibility of love to fill the vacuums.
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Slava Ukraini. For the mothers and their children.
Look, Joe and other folks, number one is that you people are not listening to 61% of American citizens who want a ban on these assault rifles according to a Fox News Poll in April, 2023.
Thoughts and prayers are not enough. Ban the damn assault weapons, ban them all.
If not us, who? If not now, when?
Six years ago in the summer of 2017 I posted my version of British poet A.E. Housman’s classic poem “When I was One and Twenty” published in 1896 in a collection called A Shropshire Lad. Housman, who was born in 1859 and died in 1936 at the age of seventy-seven, had partially funded the publication of A Shropshire Lad following a publisher’s rejection. In today’s jargon, we call that self-publishing. The book has been in continuous print since then so somewhere in London a poetry publisher in the last decade of the nineteenth century cursed himself on a Roman British tablet…or on something equally appropriate for turning down this classic.
When I was one and twenty, my father said to me,
“Work hard, be kind to others, the truth will set you free;
a penny saved is a penny earned was his advice to me.”
But I was one and twenty, no use to talk to me.
When I was one and twenty, my father said again,
“Work harder, be smarter, but always be a friend;
love family, serve country, life’s games are played to win.”
And now I’m seven and seventy I hear my father say,
“You did your best, forget the rest, your heart led all the way.”
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Tomorrow is my 77th. birthday which I have celebrated with Pretty and our two best friends Nekki and Francie in the south of France for ten remarkable days filled with delicious food, three days at the Masters 1000 Tennis Tournament in Monte Carlo, and a day at the Cannes Films Festival (or “pre-festival” according to Pretty who knows everything about pop culture) where I donated my last American dollars to a casino next to the pink carpet.
The trip was on my short bucket list – a trip made possible through the generosity of our friends whose love and laughter made my bucket overflow with happiness. The time with Pretty is always special – luckily she came home with me but told me she would like to live in Nice for two years (if she could bring her granddaughters and their parents!).
(l. to r.) Francie, me, Pretty, Nekki – country come to town
Pretty and me at Matisse Museum
Francie and me grateful for bus
after unexpected downpour leaving Matisse Museum
Francie and Nekki on hotel rooftop
Pretty happy with setting, lunch and the polka dot hat
Thanks to our trip photographer Nekki for capturing some of our memory makers.
And thanks to all of you, my readers and followers who have also become my friends, for sharing part of my journey over the past thirteen years. Impossible to imagine that time without you.
Onward.
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Slava Ukraini. For the children.
I'll Call It Like I See It 
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